#Psych You Out Socks

[juliets-roller-derby-awesomeness]

"it's not going to happen"

"i need time"

"i can't just flip a switch"

"now soup i can do"

literally one credit scene later and he's spooning you

[isekyaaa]

The hard thing about typology is that eventually you reach a point where, despite knowing theory very well, you type purely off of habits/quirks/etc because they're easy to catch (when you know what you're looking for) and almost always right.

[myrtaceaae]

Ngl I fucking hate the "ahhaha grippy sock vacation!!!" thing so much. Idk it seems to trivialise how fucking awful pysch wards are, and simultaneously makes me feel like a freak because I didn't have a fun little "grippy sock vacation".

Anyways. I don't care how many diagnoses a person has. If you cannot be normal about psychosis and severe mental illness that has significant impacts on daily levels of functioning, even when not having an episode, just stfu.

[kagehisanotsu]

Reconsidering The Bra Issue bcos sometimes a sports bra might be nice but also like if I get one while I still live w my family my mams gonna take it as me accepting that I Need to wear bras as like a societal thing... maybe if I throw the transgenderism thing (which she doesnt know abt yet) and the autism thing at her at the same time, shell be so flabbergasted that she'll cave

[bookshelf-dust]

promise to take care of my heart

carmy berzatto x fem!reader

gif by @emziess

word count: 1,830

warnings: nothing? a little swearing, but this is pure fluff and that’s all

synopsis: carmy wants to cuddle with you for the first time.

a/n: hi! new character, i know. but i’ve become rather attached to carm in the past few months and i had a cute idea for him and here we are. he’s bringing me so much comfort right now and now i’m gonna share that with you <333

————

“Why don’t you pick out a movie or somethin,’ bub?” 

“If I could find your damn remote, Carm, I would.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, eyes on his hands where they sit deep in the dishwater below. Good luck, he thinks. 

You scan the coffee table, the rug below the shabby couch. It’s not like there’s any use checking the tv stand because it’s still a fucking table tray. You know he doesn’t even own the full set of four table trays? He’s just got the one? That knowledge keeps you up at night. Just like how he doesn’t have a ceiling fan pull and has to get tweezers to change the speed.

You find the remote nestled in a stack of freshly organized books. You helped Carmen assemble a very simple bookshelf so that his stash of cookbooks wouldn’t have to live on the floor anymore. 

Just getting to help him turn his apartment into something other than a place to sleep brought you a contagious giddiness. Carmen’s chest aches with how much he’s laughed since he met you. 

Look at all my muscles, Carm. I’m practically ready for my dick now, don’t you think? 

Where’d you even get these? He’d looked down at the little allen wrench in your hand and said I don’t know, they were just here one day. 

Now you have a bookshelf, Bear. What a grown up. 

Carmen wouldn’t let you help him with the dishes after he cooked you dinner. He’d just kissed your shoulder and said, “Let me take care of it, alright?” with that little raise of his brows and quirk of his lips telling you not to argue because you’d never win. 

And when Carmen tells you to let him take care of something, well…you listen. 

You haven’t been dating very long, but it’s been enough that you’ve both developed this rhythm, this way of moving around and with each other and you just…work. 

He doesn’t understand how you can dial his shyness, his hesitance, so quickly, how you can make him feel like a human again so easily. But you do. 

You settle against the back of the couch, flipping through the tv guide (because Carm has never subscribed to any streaming services) until you find something worth listening to. It’s already a few minutes in, but you’ve seen the movie enough times that it doesn’t really matter. 

The overhead light in the kitchen switches off and Carmen pads out to the living room, socked feet dragging on the hardwoods. Your biggest pet peeve is people who don’t pick up their feet, but somehow it’s more tolerable when it’s him. 

He sits down on the edge of the couch. Just sits. On the edge. That means he wants to say something. You give him the time to psych himself up. 

Carmy chews on his thumb nail and rubs his nose before he turns to you, placing his hand on the couch. His blue eyes burn into yours, and the intensity of his gaze, trained on you, makes you feel like the most important person in the world. 

“H-hey, um…can we—could we snuggle, maybe?” He flushes at the fact that he just used the world snuggle. Richie would have his ass so quick if he’d heard him say that. 

Your grin is brilliant. You’ve never cuddled properly with Carmen before. Maybe a head on a shoulder or a leg tossed across another, but never a real cuddle session. “Fuck yeah, we can, Carm.” You giggle and the sound softens that bubble of fear in his chest. 

He bites the inside of his cheek, letting out the barest laugh. 

“How did you want t-to lay, Bear?” You blink at him. “Were you just gonna—” 

He starts to nod. “I was just gonna lay on your chest, honestly.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, that works.”

“Y-yeah.”

You snort. “Lemme’ stretch out for you and then you can be a teddy bear.” 

“Seriously?”

“Yes.” Carmen shakes his head at you. He lets you pull that shit because he likes it. Secretly.

When you have a pillow under your neck and are laid out on your back, Carm slips beside you against the back of the couch and clumsily settles on top of you. He doesn’t want to crush you or anything, so he settles between your legs, only allowing the weight of his torso to envelop you. 

One arm wraps around your back, the other cradling your hip, his curls brushing your chin. He turns his head to face the tv and lets out a satisfied sigh. 

On instinct your hand threads through his tangled hair, scratching at his scalp gently and sorting through any piece that feels knotted. 

“What is this?” Carmy asks, nodding in the direction of the screen. 

“The Wedding Planner. It has Jlo and Matthew McConaughey in it.” 

“Chick flick?”

You hum in agreeance. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t hate it. Jlo’s character is like you but if the restaurant was a wedding planning business and you were, you know, a chick.”

He laughs lightly against your stomach and you can feel the puff of air over your shirt. 

The weight of Carmen’s body on top of yours is easily the most calming feeling you’ve ever experienced. You can’t get enough of him. 

“This okay?” you ask, scratching his scalp a little more for emphasis. This is a new way of showing affection. Uncharted territory. 

“Hm?” He looks up at you briefly, blue eyes fluttering closed. “Oh yeah, feels nice. I like it.”

You grin and continue to play with his hair. He’s right. It does feel nice. It is. 

The next few minutes go by without any conversation, just silence. But it’s so comfortable. Carmen’s tired gaze is on the tv. You can feel him breathing, feel the way he scratches over your back absently. You don’t know if he’s aware he does it, but he nuzzles his nose against the soft of your stomach every now and then like it’s keeping him safe. 

“You know I thought about being a wedding planner?”

Carmy pushes up onto his elbows, looking at you with the smallest smirk playing on his lips. “Really?”

You playfully bat at his shoulder and he moves to lay back down, but not before pressing a kiss to your sternum over your shirt. “Mhm. Still think about it sometimes.” You pause, but Carm doesn’t say anything yet because he knows you aren’t finished with that thought. 

“I guess I just thought it’d be nice to help put things like that together? The organization would make me feel…complete, I guess. And you know I don’t like to help people in such an extroverted way? I like to be behind the scenes.” You laugh, a little self-deprecatingly. “Does that make sense?”

Carmen squeezes your side. “‘Course it does. And then you could come home and tell me stories about all the family drama you eavesdrop on.”

You giggle, and Carmy loves that he can feel it where he lays on your chest. He can feel your joy, and that’s fucking cool. “That I could.”

He rubs your back in small, gentle circles. “And you know, I happen to have some friends who make pretty good food and would be happy to help if you ever needed.”

“Oh, do you? Well, that’s very helpful, Mr. Berzatto. You’ll have to give me their number.”

Carmy laughs into your chest. A pure, genuine laugh. It’s such a beautiful sound, and you truly think you’d have it tattooed all over your body if that was even remotely possible. His glee makes you laugh, and then you’re both snickering like you’re teenagers doing something that’ll get you in big trouble. 

You reach for his hand, the one that’s resting on your hip now, and he lets you lift it towards your face. He bites his cheek, fighting the smile that rises when you press your warm and chapstick covered lips to his knuckles. 

“You have such pretty hands, Carmy.”

He pinches your back. “I still don’t get why you’re so fascinated by them.”

“Because they’re pretty. And, look—” You hold yours up to his. “—they’re so much bigger than mine. And I like your tattoos, obviously. I like that I know how talented you are with your hands and how capable. I’m very lucky to hold such capable hands, Bear.”

“Capable, huh?” He gives you a look, one that makes you want to both tackle him and smack him on the arm. Instead you roll your eyes and he raises up to kiss you. 

“Capable of being the world’s biggest pain in the ass.”

Carmy laughs. It’s that little chuckle, light and airy and like he can’t believe what he’s hearing but he wants to hear more anyway. He flops back down on your chest, making you let out a rather loud oomph. 

You take Carmen’s hand in yours again, rubbing over the dry patches on his knuckles, the scabs on the insides of his fingers, the scar on his palm. His whole life is written in these hands. 

You start massaging the pads of his fingers without even thinking about it. No one’s ever been that gentle with him—definitely not with his hands—and a little part of him melts at the feeling. 

You kiss the tattoo on the back of his hand and just look at his skin. You’re determined to memorize each line and freckle and fucked up cuticle he’s got. 

“At least your nails don’t look like Richie’s, Carm.”

His chest moves with the giggle that travels throughout his body. 

“Trust me, they didn’t look like that when he was still with Tiff.”

You grin, your eyes falling back on the television. Maybe Carm would be open to setting it on the bookshelf? That table tray has put in a lot of work. It deserves a break. 

Carmen can see why you’re so fond of this movie. It’s one of those that doesn’t require much thought, that has humor and feels more human than most. He knows he shouldn’t think it, but you having said what you said before makes him wonder if you’ll plan your own wedding…with him. 

Shut the fuck up, he tells himself. But maybe we’ll get there. 

You catch him smiling when they fuck up the statue in the garden and pretend not to notice. You both keep quiet now, but Carm reaches up and puts your hand back on his head.

Your fingers thread through his curls again, scratching at his scalp gently. Your other hand does the same thing to his back. You know it’s going to lull him to sleep. 

When you say it, he’s already dozed off. But you are so happy that you get to make him feel safe. That he’s comfortable enough to sleep on you like this. Lucky is an understatement. 

“Thank you for letting me in, Bear. I don’t think my life has ever been this beautiful.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[im-ovulating]

I think Tate should pin reader to a wall and fuck her. W me deserve a treat this Halloween season, and slutty Tate is such a nice thing.

(A/n: I think that's the best idea you've had yet. Slutty Tate is really all I need in this life🫠)

(Forgive the writing rust, it's been a minute)

(Not proofread)

(Pretend it's still October for me, yeah?)

Word Count: 1,611

Summary- Run, baby, run.

Warnings: Chasing, Unprotected Sex

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader: Run

-------------------

"Oh, my fucking god, Tate!" You screech as you use the banister to make a sharp turn. Tate thunders down the stairs after you in that stupid mask he found.

"C'mon~" He rasps out. "Don't you wanna play?~"

You round the kitchen island, circling it to keep distance between you. His vocal fry makes your cheeks burn; the innuendo in his phrasing doing nothing to help the heat.

"Don't -" You cut yourself off with a scream as Tate all but lunges around the island at you.

And you're running again, through the living room, past the home office, until you spot the basement door in your peripheral. You shoot off towards it, ripping the door open and sprinting down the stairs. You use the support pillars to your advantage, losing him in the maze that you call a basement.

You can hear his heavy steps as he taunts you. Boot clad feet clicking and echoing through the dark room.

"Y/n~" He singsongs. "Come out, come out wherever you are~"

His voice is muffled by the mask.

You slip around the last outcropped wall and plaster your back to the brick.

A shiver runs up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end as it suddenly goes deadly silent. The only sound in the damp room is your ragged breathing that gets poorly muffled by your hands.

Why did you think the basement was a good idea? You've done nothing but effectively trap yourself.

You're a sitting duck down here. Your best chance at escaping him is if you can manage to get back up the stairs and make a break for the front door. In theory, it's easy. The door is just a few paces to the right of the basement. But this is a ghost you're dealing with - nothing is that simple with him.

Nonetheless, once you steady your breathing, you start inching your way back to the steps.

Thank the gods you decided to put off putting your shoes on; your socks make your steps silent as you scoot around a corner. Your eyes adjusting to the pitch black does nothing to quell your paranoia; if anything, it merely heightens it. The knowledge that you could turn your head at any point at be face to face with your pursuer has your heart frantically beating against your ribs as if aching to smash through the bone. The quiet roars in your ears as you strain to hear even the slightest shuffle in the dark.

Wait-

No. That was your pulse in your ears...

'Where is he..?'

Every step you take feels like it's being watched like a hawk, and, at this point, you don't know if you're just psyching yourself out or not. Something moves in the corner of your eye, but when you whip around, you're met with nothing.

'This isn't funny anymore...' your mind unhelpfully supplies.

Taking a shuddering breath, you make up your mind and call out into the pitch.

"Tate? Please, this isn't fun anymo-"

A hand covers your mouth, an arm snaking across your stomach to drag you back. You thrash, desperately trying to rip the hand off. Your protests remain muffled as your captor pins you face-first to the nearest wall.

"Gotcha~" Tate quips, his breath fanning your neck. "Are you scared, baby?"

So, he ditched the mask... 'Finally,' you can't help but think.

You shake your head despite the answer being an obvious 'yes'. You can feel his cock pressing into your ass, getting harder with each passing second.

"No?" His hand slips from your mouth to your jaw, tilting your head back, "Liar."

With that, Tate slams his mouth to yours, hungry and not afraid to satiate himself.

You know it's wrong. That being hunted down and caught shouldn't make you feel this way, but it does. It does. It makes your tummy get all hot and fuzzy - makes your head cloudy and hazy.

And Tate knows it.

He knows this dirty little secret of yours and loves to entice it. Because, just as much as you love the chase, he loves the hunt.

The arm around you slides down until his hand can slip into your pants.

"Not only are you a liar -" he murmurs into the kiss, "- but you love that you're scared. I bet you're soaking through your panties, too, aren't ya?"

His fingers finally reach your folds, easily stroking you with all the slick that's shamefully accumulated. "Knew it~"

Tate breaks the kiss and pulls his hand out. Lifting his hand to your lips, he barely has to mutter out an 'open' before you're accepting the digits into your mouth.

You can feel his dark eyes boring into you as you suck your own juices from his fingers.

"Good girl..." His thumbs along your jaw with his free hand before pulling his digits from your mouth.

Tate turns you around and pins you to the wall once more before leaning down to kiss you again. It feels like he's devouring you; eager to eat you until there's nothing left for him to take. His tongue slips past your lips, tasting all you have to offer and still some. It's when he starts to work at your jeans that you pull away.

"Down here?" You ask, as you attempt to catch your breath. Tate makes that easier said than done by shifting to focus on your neck.

You can feel the shit-eating smirk that spreads against your neck as he mumbles out a "Why not? You had no problem soaking your panties down here."

He belts out a laugh at your offended gasp and as much as you want to snark back, you can't deny that he's right. So, instead, you huff out an "Asshole" as you relax against the wall. Wasting no time, Tate shoves your jeans down until you're able to kick them off; after unbuckling his own, he hikes your leg up and lines his cockhead with your entrance with an almost evil grin.

"Tate, don't you fucking dar-" You're cut off with a yelp as he shoves himself to the hilt with one motion.

"You love it," he grunts. And you do.

He pulls out to the tip before thrusting back in. Again and again, he builds up to a frenzied rhythm as the wet sounds of your arousal echo through the basement and all you can think is how glad you are that you're the only one home.

You can feel the staccato of your heartbeat as it mirrors his trusts.

You can barely breathe with how hard he's slamming into you, but he still has you all but clawing at his back, so it's not like you can complain. He isn't much better with how he's basically growling into your neck, sucking and biting a pattern into your skin as he fucks into you.

"How are you still so fucking tight?" He groans out, grinding his cock into you before pulling out. Tate flips you around once more before pushing back in.

Your cheek scrapes against the wall with a few trusts before you're able to get your palms against it. Using your new leverage, you start to press back, meeting him trust for thrust as he draws out grunts and groans from both of you.

The hot, wet slide of him in your cunt has your brain going empty of anything but Tate and the growing need to cum. You can feel the steady build up, the tension mounting in your muscles as he guides you closer and closer to the edge.

You're not even sure what sounds your making; all you can hear is the heavy breathing and growled curses that Tate is releasing. His hands snuck up to play with your tits at some point and with each tug and pinch, your back arches more and more as electricity starts to crackle in your veins.

"God, I'm close," you pant out. "Please, Tate..."

You feel the tip of his nose trail up your neck as he inhales your scent. "You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" He mumbles once his lips meet the skin just below your ear.

He slips one of his hands back down to your clit, "Then cum."

With one last tug to the sensitive nerve, your vision blurs as you cry out his name. The static in your limbs shoots out, spreading through your fingers and toes and tosses your head back against his shoulder. You don't even register your legs going out until Tate's arm tightens around your waist, keeping you up as he chases his own release.

"Hold on, baby," He rasps, "Just hold on for me a little longer-"

The continued stimulation keeps your eyes shut as your forced to take what he gives. Any rhythm he had is gone as he pounds into your cunt like an animal; you could cry out in relief once you feel his hips start to stutter. And you do. As soon as you can feel the thick, hot ropes of his cum pump into you, the tears fall; the overstimulation makes your legs quiver, but ecstasy still hums in your veins.

You don't register the muttered praises Tate presses into your shoulder until your breathing evens out and your heart stops hammering in your ears. "You with me, Pretty?"

Nodding, you test your legs, finally taking the strain off of Tate, though his arm stays firmly locked around your waist. Blinking the remaining blurriness from your eyes, you turn your head to face him before getting pulled into a kiss.

"There she is," he whispers against your lips.

(3 years and I still don't know how to end smut🤪)

[videovamptramp]

you aren’t mine to lose

// you’ve had a crush on ellie since you were kids. you two have always been best friends; until she gets a girlfriend who ironically hates you. //

warnings: pinning, angst, stoner/dealer!ellie, modern day au, i can never write anything happy, this isn’t proof read so my grammatical errors may need a warning???

(you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her)

ellie has been your best friend since you were both 13. throughout high school, the two of you only grew closer. your mother often joked that you were both conjoined at the hip. everywhere ellie was, you were, and vice versa. your crush on ellie started a little after the first year of high school. the brunette has always been really nice to you; even if she was awkward, and didn’t understand very many social cues… ellie was your favorite person in the whole wide world.

your crush on ellie only got worse as the two of you got older. you even found yourself following her after graduation to the university of jackson. now it was your first year of college, and the two of you were still the best of friends. that is, until ellie got a girlfriend. in all honesty, you were a depressed wreck when ellie first started talking to tiffany. she was a blonde with blue eyes, and had a body that could stop a trucker from a mile away. she was perfect in every single way, and it was obvious why ellie liked her. it was also pretty obvious that tiffany hated you. ellie was, of course oblivious to the tension between you and the psych major, but you were pretty sure tiffany only hated you because she knew how you felt about ellie.

but that didn’t discourage you from keeping your friendship with the brunette you’ve come to love so much. you never expected ellie to return your feelings. in fact, that’s the main reason you’ve been so supportive of her relationship with tiffany from the beginning. sure, it made you sad and sometimes you didn’t want to talk to ellie, because all she’d talk about was tiffany… but you still tried really hard to text her and hang out with her. maybe it wasn’t as much as you two used to, but still, you were trying and that’s all that matters, right?

“so are you gonna be at jesse’s party tonight?” your roommate dina inquires curiously, as she folds some of her clothes. she pulls you out of your ellie-induced thoughts, causing you to pry your eyes away from the textbook you hadn’t been paying any attention to. “um, no. i have to study for my english seminar. mr. lydon always calls on me.” you half lie, and dina rolls her eyes playfully. “that’s because you practically know everything already. he’s impressed and probably gonna offer you a position as a student teacher next year.” she admits, and your eyes light up at the thought. you were majoring in english, because it’s always been your dream to be an english teacher or professor.

“you really think he’ll ask me? yara’s super smart and she’s been talking about wanting to be a student teacher since the year started.” you point out, while dina waves dismissively after putting some of her shirts away. “he’s definitely gonna ask you, y/n. you two are always talking about star wars and your weird love for the semi colon.” she taunts, making you blush in a bit of embarrassment. “it’s just… it’s a pause without a coma or period— never mind, you wouldn’t understand. science geek.” you tease your roommate back, causing her to gasp in mock offense as she reaches for a pair of folded socks, tossing them right at your face.

you giggle, and as your laughter dies down, dina flashes you a look. “you should really come tonight though. ellie’s gonna be there.” she continues to pick on you, but you can hear the slight seriousness in her tone. you groan, “which means tiffany is also gonna be there.” you counterpoint. you say the blonde’s name as if it’s venomous, and dina shakes her head, the annoyance on her face clear as water. “ugh, i hate her. i swear, if she tries to psycho analyze me because i had a bad day one more time, i’m going to punch her and ruin that nose job her daddy paid for.” dina states in a tone too serious to be a joke, and you flash her a look of surprise before you both burst into a fit of laughter.

“still, you should go with me tonight. word on the street is ellie and her have been arguing a lot lately.” dina confesses, and this seems to spike your interest. you quirk a brow in your roommates direction, ellie hasn’t told you anything about her and tiffany fighting. then again, you’ve barely been texting ellie about anything other than plans for group hangouts or memes. “what are they fighting about?” you ask, unable to hide the fact that you’re suddenly intrigued. dina shrugs, “i don’t know, but it seems pretty bad. i heard tiffany yelling the other day. like at the top of her lungs yelling. i think the dorm rep had to get involved.” she explains, and your eyes widen a bit.

why didn’t ellie tell me anything?

“look, we can go with our matching flare jeans!” dina holds up the pair of black jeans she had just washed; they were your favorite pair because they had hearts on them. you shake your head, offering her a small smile. “fine. i’ll go; but if i get anything less than a eighty on tomorrow’s assignment, i’m blaming you.” you warn her playfully, and the grin on dina’s face makes your smile widen. you close the book you had long forgotten about, and get up; deciding to pick out your outfit for tonight. you settle on the flare jeans and a black furry sweater that’s too small to even keep you warm. your hair is still a bit damp from your shower earlier, but you let down both of your braids anyways; allowing the semi-curly hair to fall down. after putting on some mascara and lipgloss, you aimlessly scroll through tiktok while you wait for dina to finish getting ready.

by the time the raven haired girl is finished, jesse is texting the group chat, letting you both know the kegs are full and ready. apparently ellie was supplying the weed, and one of jesse’s friends was bringing bottles of liquor along with some packs of beer. “you should text ellie and tell her you’re gonna come.” dina suggests, as you both make your way out of your dorm hall, stepping out into the horrid cold. “so… you and jesse…” you trail off, a tiny smirk etched onto your lips. you can see dina blushing under one of the lampposts, causing you to chuckle. “jeez, d, you really like this guy huh?” you question and her blush deepens; her cheeks turning crimson red.

“he’s sweet… i know we just met earlier this year, but i feel like i really know him. you know? like i know his heart.” dina explains, and you smile brightly. “wow, i never thought i’d hear you talking about someone in such a sappy way.” you poke fun at her, but your friend can hear the softness in your voice and see the fondness in your eyes. dina grins, “yeah, well, who knows, he might get lucky tonight.” she half jokes and you gasp, throwing your head back while releasing a howling laugh.

when you get to the frat house, there’s already hoard of people there. the music is loud, but not too loud, so for that you’re sort of grateful. jesse finds you both a minute after you two walk in; he has a large smile on his face and his varsity jacket hanging off his back. “hello ladies.” he says, his smile more directed to dina. “hey jesse, is ellie here yet?” you ask curiously, trying to sound nonchalant, but he can see right through you. he nods, “yup! she’s in the back rolling a few j’s. you can head back there and say hi if you want. she’s alone.” he clarifies, and you smile gratefully. “thanks! i’ll see you guys in a minute. save me a dance, party girl.” you tell dina, and she nods. “you better come find me to dance!” she warns, and you giggle as you begin to make your way to the back of the frat house.

the only bedroom downstairs is usually used for seven minutes in heaven, or for movie nights. when you push your way into the bedroom the room is full of smoke, and you spot ellie sitting on the bed. she’s wearing a buttoned up flannel shirt, and those old faded jeans that you love on her. she’s staring out of the closed window, seemingly deep in thought; her short brown hair barely reaches the nape of her neck, and you can’t help but stare for a minute as you lean against the doorframe. she takes another drag of the joint, inhaling the smoke and keeping it in her throat before releasing it. “hey there.” you pull her out of her thoughts, causing her to snap her head in your direction.

ellie’s eyes change as soon as they land on you. her face expression goes soft. “hey. what are you doing here?” she questions, her voice light but clearly confused. “dina convinced me to come.” you explain shortly as you walk in, inching closer to ellie. you don’t seem to notice the way those pale green eyes seem to roam up and down your body as you stand in front of her. she holds the joint out, offering you some. ellie knows you love to smoke, you’re not a drinker, but you’ve always been a smoker. growing up, you were the only one who was always down to get high with ellie. it was, shamefully her favorite thing. getting high alone or with anyone else wasn’t the same for her.

you gladly take it, placing the joint between your lips before fixing your sweater, and taking the lit joint out of your mouth. you hold the smoke while you hand it back to ellie, offering her a cute little smile that makes something in her chest clench. you cough a little after exhaling the smoke, and it makes her chuckle. “good?” she asks, and you nod, “what strain as that?” you wonder out loud, “cherry chem.” she answers vaguely, placing the joint between her own lips as she reaches into her backpack, retrieving a little wooden box. you watch inquisitively as she opens the box and reveals a bunch of freshly rolled joints.

“here.” she says as she pulls out five and hands them to you. you shake your head, “no, it’s okay—“ she cuts you off, “you don’t wanna get too drunk tonight, do you, princess?” she asks, the old nickname causing you to blush under her droopy, hooded eyes. you reluctantly accept them, knowing ellie is right. you always get too drunk when you don’t smoke in order to level yourself out. “thanks els.” you thank her with that god damn smile on your face, and ellie feels as if the sun is shining on her face. you make her feel so warm.

“sit down.” she says, handing you the nearly finished joint, as she pats the empty space right beside her. you scrunch your nose in disgust, “no way, i saw joan sanders come in here with tommy last month. i know what happens on this bed.” you says in a prissy tone that causes ellie to laugh. “such a priss.” she mutters as she pulls you by your hips and causes you to fall onto the bed right next to her. you gasp, pushing her arm roughly. “ellie!” you squeal in disgust, but you get a whiff of her cologne that causes your head to go fuzzy. your face is hot, and ellie is smirking at you in a way that causes the butterflies in your belly to repopulate.

“it’s almost finished.” you scowl, and ellie shrugs as she snatches the joint out of your hands, tossing it into the ashtray. “i’ll light another one. unless you got somewhere to be.” she raises a brow, and you shake your head, flashing her a puzzled look. “aren’t you supposed to be hanging out with tiffany tonight? you guys are always at every party together.” you point out, and you notice the way ellie tenses at the sound of her girlfriends name. her demeanor shifts as she reaches for another joint, and lights it.

“she’s with her friends tonight. you know ashley and miley?” she asks with clear disdain on her face. you nod, “i know of them. they’re on the cheer team right?” you respond with a question, and she merely nods. “yeah. she’s with them i think.” ellie mutters, and you go quiet for a minute. “dina told me you guys have been fighting lately...” you start, and ellie rolls her eyes. “… why didn’t you tell me anything?” you ask her, and she shrugs. “didn’t wanna bother you with my dumb ass relationship problems.” she mumbles, as she hands you the joint.

you throw her a look of surprise, “your problem are not dumb, ellie.” you say sternly, and she scoffs. “they are. she’s… she’s being stupid.” she murmurs, and you furrow your brows. you’ve never heard ellie speak negatively about tiffany before. if anything, whenever she’d bring the blonde up she’d have this dorky grin on her face. now she looks exhausted. “what happened?” you ask carefully, and ellie freezes. you’ve known each other for years and ellie tells you everything; yet she doesn’t want to tell you about the this. the more you think about it, the more you realize ellie’s never told you anything about her and tiffany fighting. not even once.

she seems to have put a wall up for the first time without you even noticing. have you really been pulling away that much, that you didn’t even notice something’s been going on with her? in your defense, you were only pulling away from her to protect your heart. you knew ellie could never want you the way you want her, and whenever you saw her with tiffany, it hurt.

she shakes her head refusing to tell you. “it’s nothing.”

your brows knit together, she’s never shut you out about anything. ellie’s even told you all of the embarrassing things about herself; she was an open book with no filter when it came to you… but right now it seemed like she didn’t want to tell you what the arguments between her and tiffany are about. the silence in the room is thick, and you can hear the muffled music coming from behind the door. you open your mouth to speak, but jesse rushes into the room, “hey ellie, dani wants to know if she can buy a few joints off you.” the dark haired boy states causing ellie to get up. “yeah, sure. come on, wanna get a drink?” ellie asks you. you nod, standing up and following the brunette and jesse out of the room.

there’s even more people here than there was when you first arrived, and as you check your phone, you realize you were with ellie for nearly thirty minutes. ellie reaches for your hand so she doesn’t lose you in the crowd, and you gladly take it. your stomach flips as soon as your skin meets hers, and she leads you over to the kitchen. jesse walks up to dani with you and ellie not far behind, and your eyes wander around the crowded area as ellie begins to make a deal with the basket ball player. ellie squeezes your hand when she’s done, and the smile she flashes you makes your knees weak.

“whatcha’ want to drink?” she asks you with that cute raspy voice that drives you crazy. “just a cranberry vodka, if you guys have any cranberry juice.” ellie’s sure you don’t mean to look up at her with those sexy lidded eyes, but you do and she finds her mouth going dry. “coming right up.” she winks at you, and nearly grimaces at how awkward she is. you giggle while she makes your drinks, the buzz from ellie’s weed barely now hitting you. you’re partially reminded of why you’ve been trying not to smoke; because whenever you’re high, ellie is all you can think about. it makes you sad knowing she’s probably thinking about making up with her girlfriend right now.

ellie hands you your drink first, before making her own. you take a sip, grimacing at the strong taste of alcohol, “ellie!” the girly voice nearly causes you to wince as tiffany bounces up to the brunette; wrapping her arms around the back of ellie’s neck. you don’t see the way ellie forces a smile because your eyes are now glued to the red drink in your cup. “hey babe.” ellie greets her girlfriend, and the term of endearment causes a pang of pain to linger in your chest. you take a swig of your drink, and ellie looks over at you apologetically. you flash her a small, reassuring smile yet she can see it isn’t your usual smile.

ellie wants to say something to you, but before she can, dani makes her way back to you both. “uh, hey y/n.” the basketball player greets you, and you gratefully find an excuse to pry your gaze off of ellie and tiffany. “hey dani. how did you do on mr. lyndon’s quiz yesterday?” you ask her, and ellie tries not frown as she notices the way the taller girls eyes wander over your body. “i did terrible! i can’t believe midterms are next week. i’m not ready.” the tall girl admits and amusement glints in your eyes as you look up at her. “i like your necklace, by the way.” she adds, complimenting the silver necklace dangling off your collar bone. you smile brightly, your fingers going to play with the necklace your mother gave you before you left to college. you and your sisters all have the same one.

“thanks. my mom got it for me when i turned eighteen. i like your jacket.” you pull on the ends of her varsity jacket, batting your eyes up at her, and tiffany frowns as you don’t notice that ellie’s hard gaze is fixated on you. tiffany definitely notices, and it causes her to scowl. “wanna go smoke?” dani asks, pulling a joint out of her pocket. you grin, but ellie intervenes. “i already smoked her out.” the brunette clarifies, locking eyes with the jock and flashing her a warning look that makes you frown. dani looks at you, ignoring ellie and smirking right at you. “wanna go for round two, princess?” she asks, and something in ellie’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the sound of dani calling you “princess”.

“sure. i’m always down to smoke.” you say, and you flash ellie a look that she doesn’t recognize before you wrap yourself around the jocks arm. ellie keeps her eyes on you as you disappear out of the kitchen with dani, “looks like dani is getting lucky tonight.” tiffany declares, pulling ellie out of her thoughts. if ellie weren’t so preoccupied with thinking about you and dani, she would’ve found that comment strange. but ellie is high and she isn’t thinking about anything other than you giving those eyes to dani walsh.

ellie’s face twists at the mere thought of you hooking up with the raven haired girl tonight. ellie can’t come up with a single reason why she feels so upset about it; you’re single after all, and dani is undoubtedly every girls type. she shakes her head, “no. y/n’s not that kind of girl.” ellie says more to herself than to her girlfriend. tiffany scoffs, “did you not see what i saw? your friend is totally into her.” tiffany says as she takes ellie’s cup and takes a swig. she makes a face, “ugh. cranberry? seriously, ellie? you know i hate cranberry.” she mutters in disgusts, and ellie flashes her a sheepish smile.

“sorry, it was y/n’s drink choice.” the brunette replies, and tiffany rolls her eyes. “what?” ellie asks, detecting the clear annoyance that came from her saying your name. “nothing.” tiffany mutters and ellie rolls her eyes, a wave of frustration washing over her. “seriously, what’s wrong? you look pissed.” ellie points out, and the shorter girl flashes her a sardonic expression. “oh, now you noticed? you’ve been so preoccupied with y/n tonight, you haven’t even talked to me!” she snaps, and ellie’s eyes widen. “what!? you’re the one who ditched me as soon as we got here to hang out with your friends! what do you want me to do? follow you around like a puppy all night?” ellie begins to raise her voice, losing her cool.

“no i don’t want that! i want you to care about me more than you care about y/n!” she shouts, and ellie shakes her head in bewilderment. “what the fuck is your problem with her?! y/n’s my best friend, and i love her! i love you too, but fuck, tiffany!” ellie is clearly losing all the cool inside of her body, if she was angry before she’s even angrier now. “but what?” the blonde challenges, crossing her arms and flashing ellie a stern look. ellie goes quiet, “say it.” tiffany adds demandingly, and ellie scoffs, “say what?” she mumbles, playing dumb. “what you’ve always known but never had the balls to admit. you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her.” tiffany snaps, and ellie can only stare at her with inscrutable features etched onto her face.

the silence is telling, and it seems to give tiffany the only answer she needs. “i’m done coming second in this relationship, ellie. you have to tell me right now… do you love me more or her?” tiffany’s voice is harsh and up for no debates. ellie lets out a breathless chuckle, more so because she’s surprised at the absurd question. “are you serious?” she questions, her voice laced with pure disbelief. tiffany is staring at her as if ellie is the crazy one, and it just now hits ellie that you’ve been alone with dani for over fifteen minutes.

“i don’t have time for your shit tonight, dani. y/n’s cross faded and i’m not gonna let her go home with some sleaze from the basketball team, all because you’re jealous.” she hisses, as she turns around to walk away, but tiffany stops her by reaching out and grabbing her arm. ellie spins and around to face her girlfriend; her patience wearing thin. “i’m jealous!? ellie, look at you! you’re going crazy because y/n might hook up with someone else!” she exasperatedly snaps, and the words seem to knock some sense into ellie. she glances down at her shoes, a bit ashamed; “look me in the eye and tell me right now that you’re not in love with her.” the shorter girl demands. ellie’s eyes lock with tiffany’s piercing blue eyes, and all she can think about is you.

you and your smile. you and your laugh. the way you say her name, and how you remember everything she says. the tiny scar on your back nobody else knows about. the way your eyes light up when you’re excited…

ellie wants to say no. she wants to be a good girlfriend and assure tiffany that she’s in love with her and only her… but as she thinks about your soft eyes being directed at some jock looking to get “lucky”, ellie knows she can’t say it. tiffany lets out a scoff, shaking her head before loosening her grip on ellie’s wrist. “you can’t even say it! you can’t even look at me and lie about it!” tiffany pushes her finger into ellie’s chest, and ellie feels an overwhelming sense of guilt as she begins to calm down. her thoughts seem to rationalize but she knows she’s already fucked up. “tiff…” she trails off, and the cheerleader shakes her head, tears pooling in her baby blue eyes.

“just go get her before she leaves with dani.” tiffany sounds defeated, and a part of ellie is telling her to stay and fix things with tiffany, but there’s a loud voice in her head telling her to go and make sure you haven’t left with that other girl. ellie doesn’t say anything else as she walks out of the kitchen, leaving dani alone. she’s certain whatever was left of the relationship is now over, but she can’t seem to care. you’re the only thing on her mind as her gaze flitters all over the room in search for you. her eyes zero in on dina who is dancing with someone ellie barely knows; the brunette doesn’t think twice before interrupting.

“have you seen y/n? she’s with dani and she’s pretty faded. i wanna make sure she’s okay.” ellie rushes the words out, sounding like a nervous wreck. dina stops dancing for a moment, raising a brow, “uh, i just talked to y/n like four minutes ago, she seemed fine. she said her and dani were gonna smoke and maybe walk back to her dorm.” dina winks insinuatingly, and ellie’s heart falls into the pit of her stomach.

“shit… did they leave through the front or back?” ellie sounds apprehensive, and it causes a wave of confusion to wash over the raven haired girl. “the front i think… wait why does it matter?” dina questions, and ellie shakes her head. “because all dani wants to do is get in y/n’s pants.” ellie hisses, and dina raises her brows in slight shock at the sudden outburst. she watches ellie rush off, and before she can think about chasing after her best friend, jesse swoops in and pushes past the guy dina had been dancing with. “mind if i cut in?” jesse asks hopefully, and dina nods happily, quickly forgetting about you and ellie.

ellie goes out the front door of the frat house, and her eyes flicker around in search for you. when her eyes land on you, her stomach knots up as she sees you’re now wearing dani’s jacket and saying something that ellie can’t make out. her eyes widen and her mind races, as you two begin walking in the direction of the dorm rooms. ellie’s heart nearly stops beating, and it’s like her body has a mind of its own as she begins to rush over in your direction. “y/n wait!” she calls out and you stop in your tracks, spinning around at the sound of your best friends voice.

“ellie?” you sound confused; whenever her and tiffany get together during a party like this, you almost never see her till the next day. “is everything okay?” you ask as she stalks up to you. she has this unrecognizable look etched onto her face, “i just… i needed to talk to you—“ ellie cuts herself off when she sees the smile that was on your face drop. “is it tiffany? did you guys fight again?” you ask, clearly concerned. dani looks at you, then ellie, “i can give you two a minute of you want.” she tells you, and you offer her a grateful smile. “i’ll be right there.” you promise, and ellie hates how soft your gaze is when it’s directed at the jock.

dani offers you an annoyingly charming smile before walking a few feet away from you and ellie. “what’s wrong? what happened with tiffany?” you you ask her, and ellie shakes her head. “since when is dani your type?” she completely ignores your question, going straight for what’s been bugging her all night. you look taken back by the disdain in her voice, causing you to let out a breathless chuckle. “how is she not my type? she’s cute, and nice…” you trail off, and ellie blows a raspberry with her mouth. “so that’s all it takes for you to hookup with someone?” she practically interrogates you, causing you to frown.

“excuse me?” you respond, the offense in your tone clear as day. “what’s your problem? just because we’re hitting it off and i’m going to let her walk me back to my dorm, doesn’t mean i’m going to let her screw me, ellie!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down in order for dani not to hear. the brunette scoffs, “yeah, sure, did you see the way you were looking at her? plus you’re wearing her fucking jacket, and she’s been smoking you out… she thinks she’s getting lucky tonight.” ellie sounds angrier than you’ve ever heard, and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. “it doesn’t matter what she thinks, ellie. she’s not getting lucky tonight unless i say so!” you snap.

“besides, why do you even care so much about what i do with dani!? shouldn’t you be up tiffany’s ass like you always are?!” you know you sound much harsher than you ever do, which is why ellie suddenly has this kicked dog-like expression on her face. “i-i don’t care! i just don’t think it’s cool how she started preying on you and trying to get you all high. she’s a sleaze!” ellie argues, and you roll your eyes. “yeah, well, that’s up for me to decide. i’ll see you tomorrow, ellie. when we’re both sober.” your voice is lower than before, and you flash her one last look before turning around and making your way over to dani.

ellie pathetically watches as you and dani begin to leave together, and her heart plummets right into her stomach. tiffany’s words from earlier are ringing in her head; “you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her.” ellie stupidly realizes tiffany was right. she loves you more than she’s ever loved anyone… yet as she watches dani entwine her hand with yours before you both disappear in the direction of the dormitory, she realizes you aren’t hers to love. and you certainly aren’t hers to lose.

a/n(PLEASE READ): here’s a one-shot i wrote earlier this month, i just finished the next part of “i’m right over here, why can’t you see me”. it should be posted by christmas, and yes i will be tagging everyone who commented on it 🖤 - vamp

[catmarlowastrology]

Transit Jupiter in Gemini for all Rising signs

🗣️ Aries Rising: Jupiter in Gemini is transiting your 3rd house of learning from your environment. Love a bit of gossip? You’re in luck. This transit will flood your life with juicy tidbits about everyone around you. Expect to bump into old acquaintances, or receive bizarre 3am DMs from friends spilling all sorts of tea. Invitations to go out and socialize will be pouring in, so get ready to play social butterfly. You’ll uncover all sorts of secrets about the people who share your daily grind. Have a crush on that cutie you pass every day on your commute? Now's the perfect time to strike up a conversation. In fact, you might want to chat up anyone you fancy building a relationship with, be it platonic or romantic. Networking is your best friend during this transit, and meeting new people on apps could lead to some exciting connections. Basically, this is your golden opportunity to dive headfirst into your social scene and make some memorable connections.

💸 Taurus Rising: Jupiter in Gemini is transiting your 2nd house of finances and possessions. This transit can be tricky sometimes. On the bright side, you might suddenly find people falling over themselves to offer you investment opportunities (assuming you roll in those circles). Your friends and family could also be all over you, urging you to turn your hobbies into cash cows. And it's actually a great time to do just that and rake in some extra dough. Perfect moment to start that Etsy store you've been daydreaming about. But make sure to gather all the info you need and politely ignore the unsolicited advice from people who couldn’t tell a stock from a sock. With Gemini’s influence, money can appear in your bank account quickly but vanish just as fast. Watch out for the shopaholic bug. The temptation to splurge will be strong, with endless cool experiences and shiny things calling your name. Keep a level head and focus on a few key purchases instead of buying everything that catches your eye.

🔍 Gemini Rising: Jupiter is transiting your 1st house. Expect countless opportunities to learn about yourself and grow wiser. If you've been feeling a bit adrift, now’s the time to dive into therapy sessions or binge on self-help books to boost your self-awareness and finally get comfy in your own skin. This transit is also the perfect excuse to play dress-up with your life, trying on different personas and styles to see what fits. You're in a self-discovery phase, and relationships will act like funhouse mirrors, reflecting who you are, who you aren't, and who you want to become (thanks to Jupiter opposing your 7th house). But don't worry, this isn't some grueling self-help marathon (we’re not dealing with a Saturn transit). It's a fun, enlightening chapter where you learn more about yourself and enjoy every minute of it.

🌜 Cancer Rising: Jupiter will be transiting your 12th house in Gemini. This house is introspective, personal, subjective, and takes place mostly in the hidden depths of your psyche. Expect a lot of overthinking, more than usual, to the point where your brain might just pack up and leave. If you have planets in the 12th house, external events might trigger this mental marathon. But if that house is empty, you’re left with your own thoughts. You'll reminisce, ponder, and lose sleep over things that probably don’t matter to anyone else but you. Now is the perfect time to start writing down your dreams and thoughts. Get them out of your head and onto paper, so you can analyze them and maybe even laugh at how absurd some of them are. Therapy is also a great idea during this transit. You'll learn a lot about your subconscious, but brace yourself: it’s going to be mentally exhausting.

🌍 Leo Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 11th house. Get ready, because your social circle is about to explode. Unlike Aries Rising, who are busy making friends at the local coffee shop, you’re going global. The world is your oyster, and it’s about to serve you a platter of new acquaintances from every corner of the globe. This is the perfect time to join groups and communities where you can share your interests. If you're into social media, now's the time to take it seriously. Get out there, mingle, and talk to as many people as you can. This is your moment to enjoy your time with strangers and make new friends from all walks of life.

🎭 Virgo Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 10th house. Buckle up Virgo Rising because your reputation and public accomplishments are about to get a serious boost. Jupiter in Gemini loves multitasking, so get ready to juggle new opportunities like a circus performer on caffeine. There's a fun twist here: you won't just be known for one thing, but for multiple things. Thinking about a new career path? Now’s the perfect time to dip your toe in, while still keeping one foot firmly planted in your old job. Who said you can’t have it all? Whatever happens, your reputation is set to expand. You'll be known as the multitasking marvel who can do it all. You might also become famous in your field for your expansive contact list and your knack for connecting people. Embrace the chaos and show off those multiple skills you've been hiding up your sleeve.

🎓 Libra Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 9th house. This house is all about stretching your horizons and either confirming or totally overhauling your belief system. Brace yourself because this could be the transit that crams your brain with so many new interests that your poor computer gives up and crashes under the weight of all those tabs you’ve got open. Maybe you'll even consider international travel, hopping from one far-flung place to another, just to soak up their vastly different lifestyles and beliefs. If Venus is in this house, people who think completely unlike you might just be the ones to trigger your personal growth and expansive worldview. This transit is the perfect excuse to sign up for every course under the sun, or maybe even drag yourself back to university if that was on your vision board. Let your heart run wild with as many academic endeavors as it pleases.

💥 Scorpio Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 8th house. This house is the realm of losing control. Maybe you're itching to explore your sexuality? Maybe you're thinking about juggling multiple partners? Whatever wild ride you're on, you'll come out wiser. Gemini loves options and spreading knowledge like confetti, so expect to learn some jaw-dropping truths about yourself and others, especially if Mercury is in this house. If you're the sharing type, brace yourself for a crash course in joint finances. You might discover that your partner has a secret stash of cash they’re funneling into some mysterious hobby. But don't worry, it's Jupiter delivering the news, so it's more of a "well, that's interesting" revelation rather than a life-shattering bombshell (we'll leave that to Uranus, Pluto, or Saturn). Expect to dive into topics that most people run away from. It's all about growth with Jupiter. You’ll emerge from this transit not emotionally wrecked, but definitely a whole lot wiser.

💑 Sagittarius Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 7th house. Your 7th house is the VIP lounge for getting to know people on a deep, meaningful level. It's not your usual gossip fest like in the 11th house where everyone’s spilling tea. No, this is more like spending a day meandering with someone and talking their ear off. But, since we're dealing with Gemini here, your attention isn't glued to just one special someone. Nope, you've got at least two people vying for your attention. And it's not all about romance, either. Platonic relationships get a spotlight too. Your closest friends live here. Business contracts too. If you work with clients and close deals, brace yourself for a flood of new business. If you're in a relationship, keep an eye out for someone new who might turn your head and tempt you into some extracurricular activities — especially if Venus is in this house. Being an angular house, this transit is a big deal.

📅 Capricorn Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 6th house. Capricorn, you love it when life is a neat little package. With Jupiter transiting your 6th house in Gemini, you're suddenly all about efficiency and streamlining every aspect of your existence. This transit has you scheduling your life down to the millisecond, convinced that you can overhaul everything at once. So, naturally, you decide it's the perfect time to dive into yoga, Pilates, and kickboxing — all at the same time. Not stopping there, you become a culinary genius, mastering healthy meals like a gourmet chef. And why not throw in some home improvement classes, despite having zero DIY skills? You’re superhuman. At work, you’ve set your sights on the “Employee of the Month” title and are ready to work yourself to the bone to get it. It’s a lot to juggle for one person. The upside of this transit is that you’ll learn a ton about self-improvement. But you're not a robot — don't push it too far.

🎉 Aquarius Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 5th house. Aquarius, this transit is all about fun! With Jupiter transiting your 5th house, you'll be knee-deep in what makes you happy. You'll discover new hobbies, attend countless cool parties, and go on so many hot dates you'll lose count. The universe is basically Santa Claus, throwing a bunch of exciting opportunities at your feet to make you fall in love with life all over again. If expanding your family is on the agenda, this is the golden moment, especially if your Moon or Sun is in this house. Enjoy!

🏡 Pisces Rising: Jupiter will transit your 4th house. This is the perfect time to connect (or reconnect) with your family and roots. Expect sudden DMs from relatives you haven’t seen since forever popping up in your inbox. You might get an itch to discover your origins and splurge on a DNA test. Learning about your family’s past and culture is the theme of this transit. Thinking about buying a home or moving out? Now’s your chance, as the universe will throw a bunch of cool offers your way. During this transit, you might also suddenly become obsessed with home decor, trying out different styles and buying furniture that either goes wonderfully together... or creates a total eyesore. But the beauty of this transit is that you’ll end up wiser and more knowledgeable. By the end of it, you might just become the local guru on home styling. Who knows? Maybe you'll even be able to tell a chaise from a chesterfield.

[hvlcy0n]

CANVAS . sakura haruka x fem! reader

+ tsubaki’s birthday is approaching, and sakura may or may not need your help finding a present. coincidentally, you may or may not need someone to test the gifts on first.

+ 4.3k words

+ SFW (account is still 18+). UNEDITED. i gave tsubaki they/them pronouns. friends to ???

+ i mostly wrote this to get back into the groove of writing, so this was my first time writing for any of these characters. i hope it's not terribly ooc but i literally can’t look at it anymore so just take it

sakura has always prided himself on having never backed down from a fight—never, even when the odds were clearly stacked against him. he has never cowered, never turned tail and fled, never made excuses to weasel his way out of a sticky situation.

but this . . . this is different. 

now, every muscle in his body is rigid, a rubber band poised to snap and launch him straight out of the cosmetic shop he’s found himself in. the tips of his ears feel entirely too warm to be normal, and his hands are shoved firmly in his pockets to mask the sheen of sweat clinging to his palms. he feels out of his element, relegated to the corner between two false eyelash displays. make no mistake, the problem isn’t that he’s cornered in a female–dominated area and couldn’t tell you the difference between blush and bronzer. after all, it doesn’t apply to him, so what business of his is it?

the issue is that tsubaki’s birthday is approaching, and at suo’s behest, sakura set out to locate a proper birthday present for his upperclassman. his first two attempts were sorry at best, with suo sending him straight back into town after being presented with a keychain and then a five–pack of white socks. begrudgingly, sakura complied, trudging through the streets in search of a store that would be appealing to someone of tsubaki’s style. 

that’s where he bumped into you.

as one of tsubaki’s close friends, you’ve been in their orbit for as long as he’s known them, and consequently, in his. from the beginning, you were unabashed in your acceptance of sakura, the glimmer of kindness in your gaze unwavering despite his embarrassed outbursts as he struggled to get used to your presence. he wholeheartedly expected you to give up and deem him unlikable, but you never did. there was always an invitation to hang out on the tip of your tongue, a certain carefulness in your fingertips as you fussed over his injuries and pinched his skin for being reckless, a smile blooming on your lips every time you saw him approach. 

you made strides to understand him—social awkwardness and all.

but, unfortunately—or fortunately, he doesn’t really know—somewhere along the line, that sheepishness and defensiveness he naturally regarded everyone with gave way to something else. he couldn’t quite identify what those feelings were, but he did know that you made him feel different. for starters, the blush that would normally tinge his cheeks when in the presence of his friends would flare almost uncontrollably when he’s with you. 

warmth would bleed down the porcelain column of his throat and stain his chest, stirring to life tongues of flame that lap over his muscles and cocoon his chest cavity in a nearly blistering heat. from there, it would trickle into the pit of his stomach, coalescing into a knot of tangled feelings that left him teetering on the cusp of being addicted to and frightened by your closeness. at some point, you’ve managed to sew yourself into the lining of his life, carving out a space in his psyche that makes his stomach clench to imagine empty.

you’re a fucking problem is what you are.

so, when you, arms laden with your own shopping bags, volunteered to help him find a gift for tsubaki since you were already bouncing from store to store, he was initially planning to decline. but he figured that you would know what they like better than anyone. on top of that, he really didn’t want to return to suo with a third failed attempt.

but, now that you’ve corralled him into some tiny makeup store nobody knows about, he wonders if he should’ve just bitten the bullet and admitted defeat. nobody told him ahead of time that the aisles would be so slim and that he would be expected to leave any concept of personal space at the door. you knew what you were doing, that was for sure. but every time you swept past him on the hunt for something new, a whiff of your perfume would smack him directly in the face and cause his heart rate to spike. if that wasn’t disorienting enough, he didn’t know how many more times he could handle being asked by the senile store manager if you two were together.

no, of course, you weren’t together. that would be ridiculous.

but, every time he stumbled over his words to explain the situation, you would merely laugh, causing his blush to worsen.

yeah, definitely not together . . . 

there’s no way that would happen.

that would be . . .

“sakura!”

the glassiness in his eyes snaps into focus at the sound of your voice, and his soul nearly slips out of his body when he realizes that you’re standing directly in front of him. a worried frown is etched into your features, and you lift a hand striped with an array of different colors to wave at him. “i’ve been calling you! what are you doing all the way over here? i moved like three aisles away and thought you came with me.”

a rosy blush explodes across his face when he realizes that there’s only a sliver of space separating your chests. an almost comical gasp is punched from his chest as he springs past you, rushing to escape the weight of your gaze on his and the bewitching cloud of perfume that’s beginning to settle over him. “sakura,” you sigh when he lands nimbly a few feet away, “just—”

“what?” he snaps defensively, whirling around to fix you with a weak excuse for a glare.”what do you think you’re doing, sneaking up on me? i could’ve knocked you out!”

“well, thank goodness you didn’t,” you answer breezily, adjusting your hold on your bags. “here, come on. i need to test some swatches on you since your skin tone is like identical to theirs.”

“some what?”

“swatches.” you nod. “they’re like these,” you lift your hand once more to show off the lines of color smeared over your skin. “it’ll give me a better idea of what i’m working with.”

“yeah, alright.” he agrees easily, glancing off to the side to try to salvage what’s left of his self–control and pretend like he hadn’t just seen his life flash before his eyes. “whatever.” turning away, you can’t help but chuckle softly at his desperate grab for nonchalance. he bristles, heart palpitating, at the sound. “don’t laugh at me!” he shouts, sharply jabbing his index finger at your back as you retreat.

nevertheless, he trails after you, glancing at the abundance of lotions and soaps piled on wooden display shelves along the way. what could girls really need all these options for? do they even sell? his attention drifts to you as you stroll a couple paces ahead. do you use any of them? now that he thinks about it, you seem pretty comfortable in this store. do you frequent it often? were you also looking at stuff you liked? should he have been paying attention? did he make a mistake? holy shit, what is he gonna do for your birthday? 

“sakura,” his spiraling thoughts are dispelled swiftly, and his eyes dart to you immediately. you’ve halted at one of the aisles and are regarding him carefully, features softened with concern. “are you alright? you look like you’re in pain.”

having been caught, his defenses rise automatically. “‘course, i’m alright!” he retorts, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets as he stalks past you and into the aisle you were poised to enter. “dunno what you’re talking about.” he mumbles.

you simply shake your head and follow him. “you’re so prickly.” you sigh, but your tone is laced with a faint lilt of amusement.

“no, i’m not!” he objects instantly, eyes popping open in indignation, not even pausing to think about how it makes him seem.

you simply gesture to him with a loose wave of your hand. “exhibit a.” you snort.

he huffs, spinning back around to glower at the array of eyeshadow palettes beaming up at him. “whatever.” he grumbles. “what’d ‘ya want over here?”

you shift the bags you’re holding to one hand before answering. “this one,” you pick up a sleek black palette and pop it open, showing him a lineup of rich, earthy shades. “here, roll up your sleeve.”

“my sleeve?” he gawks at you like you just told him that you were expecting him to leap headfirst into a tank of venomous snakes. “hold on, that wasn’t part of the agreement! i thought it was just gonna be on my hand. what if it gets on my jacket?”

“that’s the whole reason i’m asking you to roll up your sleeve. the plan is still to just use your hand, don’t worry.” you assure him, and he reluctantly obeys.

you place your shopping bags on the tile floor in favor of reaching for his hand. his reflex is to snatch his hand away and launch himself three feet back, but for some reason, your voice echoes in the back of his mind. prickly. 

sakura knows that he is pretty rough around the edges and isn’t always the easiest person to get along with, but he can say with full confidence that he strives to better himself and adapt to his new situation every day. that being said, physical affection—or affection of any kind—has always thrown him for a loop. he never understood how people could be so casual with one another, so generous with embraces and pats on the back; but he couldn’t deny the warm, fuzzy sensation that would envelop his body whenever he received it. 

your touch is the one that is taking him the longest to grow accustomed to, it’s different from the rough headlocks and fondly ruffled hair that his friends shower him with. at first, he reasoned it was simply because you’re a girl, but that doesn’t quite make sense either. after all, he certainly doesn’t feel like this whenever kotoha or some other girl he winds up saving grabs his arm. this . . . he doesn’t know what it is. 

but he does know that whenever you would make contact with him, he felt fucking weird. butterflies would explode in his chest, the light kiss of their ticklish wings causing his stomach to flip and goosebumps to prickle along his skin. at first, he just thought it was anxiety. but the more he considered it, he recalls that in all his years, he’s never found himself yearning for the feeling of anxiety afterward. 

this is different. your touch is soft. it’s comforting. it brims with a gentle affection that he worries will disarm him if he indulges for too long, yet he can’t deny the tiny nagging in the back of his mind that waits for the next time you’ll playfully bump your shoulder into his or casually place your hand on his shoulder to reach over him. 

maybe that’s why he finds himself remaining still despite the alarm bells ringing in his ears, his body tense and breath lodged in his throat as your fingers curl around his wrist. the certainty in your hold causes a shiver to zing up his spine and a new wave of heat to surge through his body, but you don’t seem phased in the slightest, blissfully ignorant to the internal crisis roiling in his brain as you shuffle half a step closer. he squints at your face in disbelief. why are you so okay with this? with him?

shit. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this, much less understand it. 

whatever.

“keep it like this.” you instruct him, and he swears he can physically feel his chest decompress when you release him. 

the first color you smear across the back of his hand is a shimmery copper, and his eyebrows raise as he tilts his wrist to examine it. “not bad, i guess.” he comments. “you think that’ll work?”

“of course! earthy colors look heavenly on blue eyes.” you insist, raising your head with a vibrant grin. dear god, this is not good for his wellbeing.

but, just as quickly, your smile vanishes, and sakura’s eyebrows twitch. “what’s wrong?”

“there’s blue in this one. they don’t particularly care for that color.” you inform him, pointing to a vivid electric blue at the very end of the line.

“what’s so bad about that one?” he frowns. “blue’s not bad.”

“not, it’s not, but it isn’t as flattering on blue eyes as other colors.” his lips pucker into a small “o” at your explanation, and you flip the palette closed and return it to its rightful place.

“huh . . .” sakura muses, eyes skipping over the selection. “earthy colors . . . so like brown?” you hum in agreement, and after a moment of hesitation, he points to a slim palette with a fuzzy coffee–brown color. “what about this?”

“uh . . . let’s see. here’s the tester for it.” you swipe the frontmost one and pop it open to display a dazzling lineup of warm tones ranging from a deep oak shade to pale peach, and after a moment, your eyes gleam. “wait, this might be perfect!” you gasp. your head snaps over to him, delight scrawled across your expression. “how’d you do that?”

inexplicably, he finds his chest swelling with pride at your praise. “well—” he stumbles. “it was just a lucky guess. it’s not like i was payin’ attention or anything. i just happened to pick it up.”

“regardless,” your smile is genuine and unrestrained, and in that split second, he decides that he wants to see it again—just for fun, of course, obviously, “the colors you chose are gorgeous. here.” you swipe a line of light peach eyeshadow beside the copper color. “this one would be perfect for a more subtle everyday look. it’s pretty light on your skin, so i know it’ll look super pretty on theirs. and look!” you point to a copper shade identical to the one from the previous palette. “there’s even one of these!”

“huh . . . yeah, you’re right.” he blinks.

you promptly snap the tester shut and switch it out for an unopened palette. “alright, this is the one! i think they’ll like this one the best.” you beam. he takes it from you, flipping it over in his hands.

oh.

“uh . . .” his brain stalls for a moment as he processes what you’re insinuating. “so . . .” he hesitates, doing his best to ignore the strange prick of disappointment in his gut. “does that mean we’re done here?”

“let me think . . .” you hum, taking a moment to ponder your next move before decisively planting your hands on your hips. “nope! there’s still something else we’ve gotta grab.” he perks up when you abruptly spin around and take off the aisle without warning. 

“h–hey!” he protests, trying yet failing miserably to sound intimidating. “don’t just go off on your own!” he’s left to scramble after you, cheeks burning.

he catches up to you fairly easily, finding you perusing a display of brand new lip glosses by the time he slows to a halt. “this?” he questions. “you wanna get tsubaki . . .” he squints at the sign, “lip gloss?”

your lips curve into a frown. “ugh, there’s no tester for these. whatever, it’s fine.” sakura stares, aghast, as you deftly pluck a light pink gloss from the batch and start to twist it open.

“wh—you can’t just open it!” he gasps. “are you insane?”

“i’m gonna buy it regardless. tsubaki likes this brand.” you reassure him. “i just want to know if it leaves a tint at all.” spotting a mirror on a nearby display, you shimmy past him and make your way up to it, only to heave an exasperated sigh at your reflection. “damn, i forgot i already have one on. this won’t work.”

“well, what are you gonna do?” sakura demands, casting tense, feverish glances around him to ensure you two aren’t about to be accused of thievery. 

he can practically see the cogs rotating in your brain as you mull over your options and pensively press your lips together. he stiffens when you slowly turn to him, a wicked grin blooming on your lips and a new idea illuminating your gaze. “you’re not wearing anything, are you?”

a thick silence stretches between the two of you, disturbed only by the monotonous whir of the air conditioning and the staccato squeak of his sneakers along the tile floor as he shifts backward. he’s not . . . what? he blinks blankly at you, arms dangling uselessly at his sides. wearing anything? why would that matter?

“ . . . huh?”

it’s only when you remove the wand from the bottle with a viscous pop! and take a step toward him that the gravity of your words sets in, and his body jolts as if he’s been struck by a bolt of lightning. a shrill gasp that sounds more like a pitiful wheeze wracks his chest, and he staggers backward, narrowly avoiding catching a metal display hook to the back of his skull. “hell no!” he barks, a furious blush blazing across his face. “what are you—you can’t put that on me!”

you continue creeping toward him, eyes alight with mischief. “come here!” you laugh. “you can’t fight destiny.”

of course, he can.

unsuccessful at deterring you, his body naturally assumes a fighting stance, fists lifting as if preparing to strike. but unlike his usual stance, which is cemented by self–assurance and an undeniable prowess, his body feels cumbersome and unsteady, as if he could be bowled over by a single shove to his chest. “so, you wanna fight? is that it?" the slight fracture in his voice doesn’t help the situation. in fact, it only seems to fuel your decision. 

there is no reluctance in your movements as you step directly in front of him. with the way your disposition is still relaxed, he wouldn’t be shocked if his words were merely a figment of his imagination. “oh, come on,” you beg, nudging aside his clenched fists without breaking eye contact. “i just need you to wear a little bit. i’d really do it myself if i could! i have makeup wipes in my bag. you can wipe it off immediately after if you want. promise.”

“the hell you think this is, huh?” he snaps. his defenses compromised, sakura presses the back of his hand to his lips in a last–ditch attempt at protecting the lower half of his face.

“you only have to bear with me for five seconds.”

“fuck no!”

closer.

“sakura, please!”

“y–you . . .”

closer.

“just one . . .” you murmur, stepping close enough for your chest to graze his. sakura inhales sharply and flushes a shade you didn’t even know was possible. “little . . .” the hand clutching the tube raises to tug his last defense away as you lean in. he grits his teeth.

really close.

a small, gravelley sound of complaint grinds its way out of sakura’s throat as he finally stills, pinned helplessly between you and a lip balm display. even so, he doesn’t push you away. he doesn’t swat the lip gloss out of your hand. he simply stands there, stiff as a board and overly warm to the touch, and allows you to do as you please. as he waits for you to finish, all he can wonder is why? 

why is he letting this happen? he should be rejecting your touch and cursing you out just as he would anyone else. but he isn’t. why? and why are you doing this to him? why are you so comfortable behaving this way with him? why is his heart beating so hard? can you hear it? he sure as hell hopes not.

by the time you step away, it feels both too long yet too soon. sakura clenches his jaw at the frustrating jumble of emotions, but you’re none the wiser as you simply twist the wand back into the tube, eyes aglow. “i was right, it is a pretty color!” you purse your lips sympathetically. “sorry, i know that was probably pretty miserable. you can wipe it off now if you want. it shouldn’t take long for the stain to show up.”

you’re mistaken. the makeup was never the issue. the whole problem is that you were in such close proximity that all he could focus on was the wrinkle of concentration in your brow and how you were close enough for him to count the eyelashes rimming your bottom lid and how warm your skin was and how good you smelled . . . you obscured every one of his senses until he felt like he was drowning in your presence. the problem was that his insecurities began to surface the moment he failed to quell the incessant pounding of his heart and the warm, syrupy feeling seeping through his body at your kindness toward and implicit trust in him. 

the problem was that he liked it, but past memories of loss and betrayal have planted seeds of doubt and fear in his chest, leading him to ponder how long he will be granted such goodness before it slips through his fingers. the problem was that he liked it, and he believes that someone like him shouldn’t. the problem was that he liked it, and now he has no clue what the fuck to do.

regardless, he doesn’t respond right away, swiping the hand free of eyeshadow swatches over his lips. “‘s nothing,” he finally mumbles after a moment.

you hum, squinting at his lips. “so, it does leave a stain.”

sakura jolts. “is it super bright?”

you chuckle. “no, it’s pretty faint. oh, right!” you readjust the shopping bags resting on the crook of your elbow to root around in your own personal bag for the makeup wipes you’d promised him. “here!”

he accepts it with a gruff, “thanks . . .” and begins scrubbing the tint off his bottom lip. his tongue reflexively darts out to wet it once he’s finished, and his face contorts in disgust at the sour chemical taste that greets him. 

“gross, right?” you laugh at his reaction.

“dunno how these things haven’t poisoned you yet.” he gripes. 

“me neither,” you agree. you lightly bump your shoulder into his to distract him. “come on, let’s go.”

“whoa, whoa, wait,” sakura wrinkles his nose and points at the tube in your hand. “i can’t give that one to tsubaki if you already used it on me.”

“oh!” your eyes light up. “i’m getting this one. i figured i’d try out their recommendation since i’m here.” you reach out and pick up a crimson color of the same brand. “this one is the present. they mentioned wanting to try a gloss in the same color as their lipstick. i just wanted to see if it really tinted your lips or not.” before he can think too hard about the situation and throw a fit all over again, you turn on your heel and head for the checkout counter.

sakura feels as if his brain has been switched to autopilot during his transaction. his blood pressure has been at dangerous heights throughout almost the entire interaction. how he’s supposed to walk outside and continue on with his day as if nothing happened is beyond his scope of comprehension. is he supposed to pretend like this was normal? or is he supposed to pretend like this didn’t happen?

he sneaks a sly glance in your direction while you pay for your lip gloss, trying to gauge your expression and body language. how do you feel about him? well, he assumes you must find him at least somewhat tolerable if you volunteered your time to assist him. 

his attention trickles down to the abundance of shopping bags balanced on your arm as you use your free hand to pick up the newest addition to your collection. his eyebrows twitch. they must be heavy. at the very least, your circulation must be suffering. he’s carried groceries for enough elderly people to know that much. 

“you’re pretty quiet,” you tease as you both turn away from the counter and head for the exit. “something on your mind?”

he’s silent for a moment, debating whether or not he should risk it. what if this was a stupid decision? what if he’s reading this all wrong? what if you wanted to carry your own bags? you’re a strong girl. you’re perfectly capable of carrying them yourself. he exhales forcefully, and before he can let doubt settle in, he rigidly juts his hand out to you.

“give ‘em here.” he mumbles.

your attention bounces back to him, perplexed. “huh?”

he grits his teeth, embarrassment already beginning to creep in. “your bags. i’ll hold them.”

at first, you’re pleasantly taken aback, a smile blossoming on your lips. but it turns wistful after a couple seconds. “i can’t make you carry everything, sakura. that’d be too—”

a fleeting hint of irritation sharpens his expression, and he kisses his teeth. “fine, then.” he—a tad ungracefully, he hates to admit—snatches your shopping bags off your arm and shoves the small gift bag containing the eyeshadow and lip gloss into your hands instead. “you wanna carry something so badly? carry this.” 

you stare at him with wide eyes, shocked. pretending like he doesn’t feel your gaze burning holes into his temple, he clears his throat and hikes the shopping bags up onto his right shoulder, all the while keeping his head angled away to conceal the light blush dusting his cheekbones.

“sakura, thank you, but you really didn’t have to.” you assure him, but one glance at the indentations where they’d once been tells him otherwise. 

he grunts. “quit worryin’ about it. if they’re heavy, then say something. you helped me out, so just . . .” he pauses, trying to string together his words in a way that doesn’t incriminate him. “think of it as me payin’ you back.”

“but—”

“deal?” he interjects, his voice bearing a note of urgency he hopes you mistake for roughness—for his sake.

but you, ever perceptive, let your gaze linger on him for a moment before your expression melts into a small, knowing smile.

“deal.”

[interstellar-productions]

Thinking so many thoughts honestly, about Aaron currently (spiritually not situationally I relate to him, it’s complicated). Aaron so specifically speaks to me because of how (at least with the crumbs we’re fed by canon) he internalizes and deals with his trauma. He WANTS to be normal. In fact he tries so hard to be normal (as society interprets normality) that he actively distances himself and represses any part of him that may lead people to viewing him as anything other then normal.

In my mind this was probably done intentionally, it creates a contrast between him and Andrew (and is probably why Neil is able to tell the twins apart pretty much from the get go). Andrew doesn’t speak about his trauma but he also doesn’t necessarily minimize it. Andrew makes himself big, body language wise he’s very loud. “Look at me, at what they did to me. Look at who I became”. Andrew is a warning sign, he lets his bleeding wounds show and mixes them with ragged bone and snarling teeth. Andrew is telling people without telling people what will happen if someone crosses him.

In contrast Aaron hides, his pain and his scares. Aaron turns everything inwards, shoving it all into closets and under beds. If he blends in then maybe no one will notice him enough to pick him out. Hiding in plane sight. Aaron works so hard to be normal and is canonically known as the least interesting and most normal fox, despite having a murder charge and being a recovered addict. He is the normal fox. People overlook him, glance right over him, his teammates, peers, everyone. Perfect grades, good at his sports, girl next door girlfriend. Aaron is so painfully NORMAL.

It speaks so deeply because it’s so obvious to me that its a coping mechanism and not actually because that’s how he really is. If he was just painfully normal we wouldn’t get some of his more violent or assholeish out burst and he probably wouldn’t have that grudge against Bee. His grudge against Bee is actually what sparked this whole thing for me. He hates Bee, he says that he’s never actually spoken a word to her and even when he starts sessions with Andrew he’s really just speaking to Andrew while Bee is in the room rather then directly speaking to Bee. My little psych major mind (mixed with my personal feelings but HUSH) is just screaming that this whole “I’m normal look right through me please I’m normal”. It’s how he COPES. This guy grew up at least a little bit inside a church (because Luther) and had to hide both bruises and addiction and whatever else was going on inside that house. Statistically speaking there’s two major ways you internalize trauma like that. And I love Aaron and Andrew because their those two ways basically. Aaron is trying so hard to be so Normal that he becomes basically invisible. Blending into the background.

He probably has everyone convinced that he’s got it all in the bag, all his shit? It’s in a sock, don’t even worry about it. He’s got the grades, the girlfriend and he plays a sport. Bro is literally sitting pretty to be so uninteresting that he gets nothing but a cursory glance, and it’s totally part of his scheme. No one’s going to think to ask questions he doesn’t want them too. Not about his past and not about what’s going on in his life. “Oh that’s Aaron yeah I’ve got advanced chem with him, yeah good guy. I think he plays exy.” Aaron doesn’t want people to ask questions, because he knows he’s towing the line. Does he have it all together? Or is he desperately trying to keep all his shit in the boxes he’s stuffed it in? Who knows. Aaron probably doesn’t even know.

Aaron gives me “fake it til you make it” vibes that it actually hurts my soul. This man wants to be normal so bad that he’s doing everything he can to not have to address what’s actually wrong, because acknowledging something’s wrong means acknowledging that he is in fact NOT normal. And he wants to be normal because being normal is how you survive. (How he got Tilda to not beat him for dragging the wrong sort of attention to her)

My psych major mind is absolutely consumed by AFTG because to me they represent all the different ways that trauma can manifest in people. Basically all of the foxes (even and Renee Wymack) are the violent kind. Their teeth and warning signs, don’t get too close, don’t step on my toes. But they all show it so differently. Renee for example is the healed sort of violent, she’s faced the majority of her demons and won, she knows she’ll be able to handle you if you step out of line (see her ruining the nest). Nicky is the loud kind. He’s not the break bone sort of violent but he is the make you uncomfortable kind. So much of Nicky’s early character (Foxhole court) is him giving off borderline predatory vibes. His jokes, his mannerisms, the whole Edens trip. It’s his version of violent. He makes you uncomfortable so he knows whose safe and who isn’t.

Then you have aaron and his whole character is a ticking time bomb. Aaron isn’t normal because he’s healed, he’s normal because its the only way he knows to survive. That’s why he doesn’t like Bee. Bee is a psychologist, her whole job is to know their problems and fix them and the fact he even has to go sit in a room with her is a threat to his overall performance of normality. Because normal people don’t NEED therapy.

Screams into the void, I’m so normal about him.

Also all of this is just my personal little ramblings about a purely fictional character that reminds me of myself as it relates to the topic of interest I’m currently studying. If you don’t agree with me that’s totally fine, if you have different preconceptions about him thats totally ok too. This is just my little brain rot corner of the internet and I’m just trying to have fun.

To the 3 people that wanted to see my deranged psych rambles i hope this reaches you, this is all for you!

[gremlingottoosilly]

HELLOO

ok so small idea..

as someone with a huge fear of spiders i literally start going into panic mode whenever i see one like i have to psych myself up before taking care of it it’s badddd

anyways König who hears his wifey SCREAM in another room and RUNS to her to find her on top of some surface scared out her mind. him being so worried before he realizes what’s it about

(your writings so good btw 💕)

He is ready to throw things!! Willing to destroy anything and kill anyone who just barged into the house because no one gets to hurt his precious wifey! When he gets in the house and sees you, sitting on top of the couch, scared and clutching to some pillow in your hands because you can't even stop looking at the damn spider, too horrified to let it out of your sight...yeah, I want to write that Konig would be a sensitive gentle giant who will never hurt a harmless arachnid or an insect, he is a friend to all animals etc etc...but I think we all agree that he steps on the spider before he even notices it. Just get into the house and you suddenly stop screaming because he already killed the reasons for your fear. He will laugh at your fear though( scraps the poor spider remains from his foot(I am a firm believer that he doesn't wear socks or even slippers in the house, this man had worked so hard to have a heated floor, not to save money on heating!!) and shows it to you, even as you cry and squirm. You were seriously so worked up over this dead little guy?? Gosh, you're adorable, he can't wait till just pushing you even more with your nerves. But, hey, you can distract yourself by sitting with him and thanking him for being your hero!! Konig gets such an ego boost after killing that spider, he makes you praise him and call him your hero because he literally saved you from this monster! A celebratory sex would be really appreciated btw....

[brattyfork]

his girl

summary: chris’ gf convinces him to make fresh love skirts

warnings: hair pulling, face fucking (kinda) nothing super crazy :3 super long tho, you can skip to the hearts, that’s where the fun stuff starts :>

my boyfriends brand has really been taking off lately. he’s reaching people outside of his fans so he’s been trying to add more clothing types. i suggested he should make a tennis skirt, just a simple one with the logo on it. he loved this idea and started getting it in the works.

once chris got them in he surprised me with it, a short white tennis skirt with “FRESH LOVE” on the right side. it was cuter than i could’ve ever imagined. he said that since i came up with the idea he wanted me and some of my friends to be the models for it. i, of course, said yes and texted madi and some of my other girlfriends.

they all said yes so chris set up the shoot date and told us all when to be there. i told chris i’d meet him there with the girls. i wanted to pick up my ladies and get hyped up before.

i picked them up, listening to madi’s “badbitch” playlist the whole way. i texted chris that we were there and he was already out front to show us where to go. he led us into the studio that had a little leather loveseat and an arm chair, the set looked good. chris got pulled away for “business” stuff so the girls and i made out way to the dressing room area. it was super cool, like something out of a movie, there were a bunch of mirror with lights around them over vanities with cute stools in front of each one. one of the makeup artists saw us oogling the room and pulled us all in, introducing us to the three people that would be doing our hair and makeup. we all took seats while they got all their stuff set up and we got started.

chris had asked me before what kind of makeup i thought we should do. i told him something simple so we didn’t take away from the clothes. my artist put me in a light but pigmented blue eyeshadow, lowkey winged eyeliner, mascara, some clear lip gloss and a shit ton of glittery highlighter. i loved the way it looked. madi and the other girls had something similar, altered based on their face shape, skin tone and what outfit they’d be in. we decided simple curls would be best, everyone’s being a bit different due to their hair type but it looked better that way.

it was time to get dressed and i was psyched. even though i had seen the skirts, i hadn’t tried them on. my skirt was white with the blue “fresh” and “love” heart on the corner, it hugged my hips perfectly and was just long enough to cover me. my stylist and i decided it would go best with a blue and white striped sweater. the other girls had different logo variations on their skirts, madi had the little deer while my other friend wore one with the “F” and the heart by it. we had all brought our own simple silver jewelry to go with our outfits and we decided we needed a little something more. madi slipped on some below the knee socks that ended up being over the knee anyway and i had some white knitted leg warmers. chris had already picked out shoes for every outfit, all sneakers of course. we slipped them on and tied them, giggling and squealing about how hot we looked. we took some pictures in the mirrors before chris knocked on the door.

“yall decent in there?” he slowly opened the door, showing his hand over his eyes. i said yes and he uncovered his eyes.

“you guys look great, we ready?” he said to all of us but he didn’t take his eyes off mine. the girls all said yes, making their way out the door past chris. i was behind them all hoping to see chris for a moment. i walked up to him, he looked me up and down, starting at the hem of my skirt, going all the way up to my head before looking back at my shoes.

“one of your shoes is untied baby”

“oh shit” i said as i began to kneel down to tie them

“let me do it” he beat me to the floor, sitting on one knee. he tied my shoe in a very methodical and particular way, then looked up at me and it was like the butterflies in my stomach had been given crack. he pushed himself up off his knee and slinked his arm around my waist. leaning into me, he moved my hair out of the way of my neck so he could leave a wet open mouthed kiss on my neck below my ear.

“you look so fucking good” he whispered in that low sultry voice i love so much. he placed a short kiss back below my ear and pulled away, leaving me standing there, frozen. chris started walking, noticing that i wasn’t behind him, he stopped and looked back at me. he held his hand out for me to grab, innocently staring at me as if nothing had happened. we both knew what he was doing, i could play that game too.

we started the shoot with pictures of just us girls in cute poses that showed off the skirts. i made sure to keep eye contact with chris, every time i looked back at him his pupils had dilated so his eyes were almost completely black when we were done.

after we had gotten all the ones of the girls, the director waved chris over.

“okay we’re gonna do some with just chris and his girl” he stated loudly, hinting for the other girls to move off set. they were done for the day so they started collecting their things. chris and i did some basic shots, sitting next to each other on the couch with his arm around me before he got up and sat in the arm chair next to the couch. i looked at him confused.

“come sit on my lap” i gave him a look but he tapped his thigh beckoning me over. i walked over to him, thinking this would be the perfect time to tease him a bit. i got situated on one of his thighs and crossed my legs. i could feel his very obvious half boner beneath my hip, realizing why he wanted me to sit on his lap. we took quite a few pictures, altering the position slightly every other shot. everytime i moved on him i made sure to press whatever body part was convenient to the area, pulling soft groans from him while he gave me warning looks.

we had finished with the shoot but i wasn’t satisfied. i got up off his lap, a tiny whine coming from him at the loss of pressure. i pulled one of the rings from my fingers and “accidentally” dropped it in front of me.

“whoops” i said almost comically. i bent down to pick up the ring, my backside turned to him, giving him a full view of my light blue lady panties i had on underneath the skirt. i stood back up slowly and wiggled my hips a bit, essentially shaking my ass in his face. when i turned to face him his eyes were dark, the smallest ring of blue surrounding his pupils. he adjusted himself as subtly as he could before standing up and walking past me.

chris went to wrap up the business end of the shoot and i made my way back to the dressing room. i passed my friends who had called their boyfriends to pick them up, saying quick goodbyes. when i got to the dressing room, madi was on one of the little stools.

“hey do you need a ride home?”

“nah my moms gonna take me, she’s just finishing up with the photographers and stuff”

“oh okay”

“dude, chris has been looking at you like he wants to eat you all day”

i blushed a little, slightly embarrassed that she had noticed our behavior.

“yeah i might’ve teased him a bit, i might be fucked”

“yeah i should hope so” we laughed over my choice of words, continuing to talk before we heard laura speak behind us. she stood in the door way with chris next to her with the scariest smile i’ve ever seen on his face.

“ready madi?”

“yep” she got up and grabbed her bag. “good luck” she whispered to me.

“you guys good?” laura asked chris and i. i started to respond but he beat me to it.

“yeah we’re fine” he said, not breaking eye contact with me.

they said their goodbyes and chris watched them turn a corner before closing the door locking it behind him.

🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀

“you’ve been quite the tease today” he said while making his way over to the vanity i was sitting at. i stayed seated, too nervous to move.

once he was in front of me, he caressed my cheek, slowly moving his hand to the back of my neck.

“nothing to say now?” he taunted, tilting his head to the side. i opened my mouth slightly, trying to get any words out but i truly had nothing to say. he quickly moved his hand to the back of my neck, weaving his fingers into my hair before harshly pulling. my head flung backward, making me gasp louder than i would’ve liked.

“i asked you a fucking question slut”

“n-no daddy, just wanted to have a little fun”

“oh we’re gonna have a lot of fun” the knot in my stomach becoming tighter at his words. he moved his face closer, ghosting his lips against mine.

“are you gonna be good baby?”

“yes daddy, wanna make you feel good”

he finally connected our lips and tugged on my hair again, causing me to open my mouth just enough for him to slide his tongue in. his tongue ran over ever inch of my mouth, claiming it as his own.

“get on your knees sweet girl” he released my hair from his grip. i pouted at his order, the floor was basically concrete. his eyes didn’t soften though so i gave in, moving off my stool and kneeling on the cold hard floor in front of him. he moved his hand back to my cheek while undoing his belt and pants with the other hand.

“so pretty for me baby” he cooed, letting his cock spring up out of his boxers and slap his stomach. i looked up at him for permission and he nodded his head ever so slightly.

i licked my way up the underside of him, feeling every individual vein on my tongue before taking the tip into my mouth. i sucked on just the tip for a second while he watched me, neither of us breaking eye contact. i slowly took more of him into my mouth, making him let out a soft groan.

“fuck so good baby” i moaned at his praise, sending vibrations down his cock. this made him grab the top of my head by my hair and force himself down my throat, making me gag and struggle.

“i know baby, breathe through your nose… just like that, that’s my girl” i did as he said, breathing through my nose as calmly as i could. the second i got used to it, he began slowly fucking my mouth, his speed increasing with every thrust as he used me. at this point i was drooling and had tears running down my face, stained black from the makeup.

“i’m close baby” he warned me. i was trying to prepare myself for his load when he shot hot cum down my throat. i gagged before swallowing, keeping his gaze. i was catching my breath when he leaned down in front of me.

“what do you say sweetheart?”

“thank you daddy”

“good girl, i think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” i smiled and nodded frantically, making him chuckle.

he stood up, reaching his hands out for me to grab. he helped me up, making sure i was stable before taking his hands back to slip his shirt off. i stood staring at his torso, mesmerized by every inch of him. he smiled before grabbing at the hem of my sweater and pulling it off me.

“turn around, lean on the table” referring to the vanity behind me. i followed his orders, shuddering as i laid my stomach on the cold surface. i looked up to see him standing behind me via the mirror attached to the vanity, smirking.

he reached up under my skirt to grab my panties before dragging them down my legs. he left small kisses on the backs of my thighs and calves in his wake, causing the puddle in between my legs to grow. he ran one of his hands up the inside of my leg, making me whine louder as he got closer to where i needed him. he finally placed his hand over my pussy while bringing his other hand to unclasp my bra.

“so wet for me baby”

i whimpered at his words, “please daddy, need you”

he said nothing before slipping a finger into me at an agonizingly slow rate. i let out frustrated moans, desperate for more.

“use your words angel”

“more please, i need more” he slipped a second finger into me, giving into my pleas.

“fuck thank you daddy” he was thrusting his two fingers into me at the perfect pace, i could feel myself coming undone.

“daddy gonna cum, can i cum?” i babbled out.

“go ahead baby, cum all over my fingers”

i let go with his permission, my legs shaking from the pleasure. before i could fully come down from my high, i felt something prodding my entrance. i looked up into the mirror, meeting his gaze. he looked to me for consent, i nodded my head, not being able to stand another second without him inside me. he pushed into me, watching my face contort with pleasure, not once breaking eye contact.

chris wasted no time, instantly pounding into me at an insane pace, his hands squeezing my hips. the feeling overtook my body, forcing my head down on the table. he weaved his fingers through my hair to pull my head up roughly, forcing me to face the mirror.

“look at yourself while i’m fucking you”

i let out a high pitched squeal as he sped up his thrusts, i could feel myself nearing the edge.

“daddy fuck can i cum?”

“do you think you deserve to cum slut?”

“please daddy i’ve been so good”

“i think you should beg me”

i threw my dignity out the window, needing to cum more ever.

“please daddy please let me cum” he just stared at me, unconvinced.

“fuck- PLEASE”

“love when you beg me like a whore, go ahead, cum all over me” i let go before he could even finish his sentence.

“fuck i love when you cum on my cock, so fucking tight” he grunted out. his sharp thrusts became uncoordinated and sloppy.

i heard him let out a loud groan before i felt him release inside me, the feeling so incredible, so warm and full, i could stay there forever. he fucked into me slowly, riding out his high before leaning down to lay on my back.

i turned my head to him, “i think you should make panties next”

a/n: sorry this is so late and so fucking long holy shit. i’ve had this idea for like 2 weeks now but didn’t rly know how to execute it. i really like how it turned out, hope yall feel the same :3

[myrtaceaae]

One thing about talking to my old housemate the other day reminded me of what a mess my other housemate was

[starks-hero]

Little Runaway

Pairing: Jake Lockley x Reader

Summary: “You heading home, carinõ?” “Not exactly.”

You decide to run and leave everything behind you, but the cabbie you've hailed to drop you to the airport might just change your mind.

Word Count: 2.3k

a/n: I'm not saying that you should listen to this song whilst reading but it definitely gives off the ~vibe~

It was raining and you hadn't packed a jacket.

You hadn't packed much of anything, really. A heap of clothes, your passport, and what little cash you had. You had no clear idea where you were heading; you'd decided you'd figure that out as you went.

The pavement was already beginning to flood, water seeping into the soles of your shoes and dampening your socks. You cringed, readjusting the bag on your back. Your arm, which had been extended to the road in a desperate plea for someone to take pity and pick you up, was growing heavy.

The sky rumbled above you, an unpleasant preview of the deluge that was to come. You huddled in on yourself.

The screech of rubber against gravel split the air as a blue Honda Civic made its entrance at the end of the street. It spun from one side of the road to the other in flamboyant turns, and its radio blared so loudly the windows vibrated and quivered.

You took your chances and raised your arm. You'd take a lift from Ghostface at this rate if it meant getting off this godforsaken sidewalk.

The car sped up, frighteningly so, and your stomach dropped. It swerved towards the path, purposely speeding through the puddles collecting in the gutter. The small wave of water drenched the legs of your pants, from your knees down to your shoes. The blaring music barely drowned out the hysterical laughter from inside the car as it sped off.

You stepped away from the road and the squelch of your wet socks almost reduced you to tears. You folded your arms across your chest and started walking. You weren't even sure you were heading in the right direction but anywhere would be better than here.

Five minutes into your trek and drenched to the point it was a miracle your skin hadn't turned blue, a car horn sounded. You turned to the road.

A cab emerged from the heavy curtain of rain, black and sleek. Its tires were deathly quiet against the gravel and you questioned if it was a figment of your psyche. An imaginary savior.

It slowed as it pulled up beside you, tires kissing the pavement. The paint job was so prestine you could see your reflection staring back at you.

You were a pitiful sight.

The tinted window rolled down painfully slow and you squinted your eyes against the rain to catch sight of the man who sat inside.

Dark brown eyes regarded you from under the fraying edge of his cap. His stare was stern but not judgmental, looking you over with something close to pity.

"You need a ride?"

You oddly found yourself speechless. Blinking twice then once more, you surveyed the car again before looking back to your knight in clad leather. His hand tapped against the steering wheel in an uneven beat, an action you might have mistaken for impatience if his expression was an inch less friendly.

You shuffled your feet, the small puddles of water collecting in your shoes making themselves known. This was exactly what you'd been hoping for but the reality of getting in a car with a stranger was daunting.

"I don't bite, carinõ." He said suddenly. "Look–" he leaned forward and tapped twice on the taxi sign and (albeit run-down) fair counter on the dashboard. "I'm the real deal. I'll take you anywhere you need to go."

He motioned to the back of the car. You inched forward, then fell back on your heel.

"Look, I'd do anything for a pretty face but I don't have all day, are you coming or going?" Despite the nature of his words, his voice was still low, even; you'd dare say kindly.

Throwing caution, (as well as your memory of every murder mystery film you'd ever seen) to the wind, you slipped into the back of the car.

It was an instant relief. The warm air from the heaters kissing your skin and heating your cheeks. Even the heavy scent of cigarettes that clung to everything inside the taxi was somewhat comforting.

"Coming, then," you heard your driver muse as he pulled back onto the road.

You'd given him your destination, (the nearest airport, railroad or dock) and then you were off. Watching the world fade into a blundered mix of grey's outside the car's window made what you were doing feel far more real.

A few minutes of silence passed, followed by a small handful spent trading small talk, mostly about the weather. You supposed that it was all part of his job.

"You heading home, carinõ?" he asked casually and you supposed it was a fair question to ask.

"Not exactly," you answered, choosing to leave it at that.

You caught sight of his nod in the rearview mirror. He was quiet in contemplation for a moment. "Anywhere in mind?"

A laugh of disbelief, mostly at your own actions. "Anywhere away from here." In all honesty, you hadn't planned that far ahead. Your destination largely depended on which ticket was cheapest.

Another hum of thought from your chofer. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess you're not going to tell me what it is you're running from, no?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and huddled in on yourself. Your clothes were still dripping and the heating was doing little to fend off the chill now.

"Then you'd guess right."

The car lulled back into a gentle quiet. The rhythmic sound of the tires gliding over the road, the occasional bump throwing it off its rhythm. The rain pattering at the roof and windows, and the persistent beating of your driver's hand against the wheel.

You shivered again, a rebellious droplet having fallen from your damp hair and sliding down your back. You missed the look the cabbie gave you in the mirror.

He slowed the cab, just enough for him to lean across and open the glove compartment without having to worry about ending up in an unplanned game of bumper cars.

A large, brown jacket was tossed to you, the faux fur lining the neck feeling heavenly between your stiff fingers.

"Warm yourself up." His eyes were already back on the road.

You slipped the coat over your shoulders. It swallowed you up in warmth and you sighed, pulling it taunt against your damp frame. It smelled of ash, cigarettes and gasoline, an unusual cocktail that somehow screamed comfort. Given where he'd produced it from, something told you that giving his coat to strangers wasn't all part of your cabbie's general service. You sank into the item of clothing a little more.

You thanked him and comedically he tipped his hat to you. The small smile you managed made your cheeks feel warm.

The rain let up if only a little and the radio took its place as the dominant sound in the car. It was a quiet, dreary song playing; one you'd expect to hear from the front porch on a Sunday morning. Soft and gentle, easy to listen to. And the Spanish singing was ethereal.

'Tuvo compasión, más allá del sol, más allá del sol, yo tengo un hogar, hogar bello hogar.’

You let your head fall back against the rest, shoulders slumping and a gentle hum passing your lips.

Your cabbie lifts his brow in the rear view mirror and oddly you don't feel patronized under his gaze.

"The song," you say instead. "I like it."

In a beat, he reached across and turned the radio dial. The song flowed through the speakers with new strength. His gentle raps against the steering wheel fell into tune with the ballad on the radio, and his features softened.

"En la turbación, más allá del sol, más allá del sol."

His singing was nothing like his voice, the gruffness vanished and the rough edge softened. It was light and gentle, soothing and rivaling the artist on the radio. It was homely.

"Yo tengo un hogar, hogar bello hogar."

You weren't sure where or what you were running to, but you thought that whatever it was would, maybe, feel like this.

A warmth sat in your chest now, not just in place of where the rain had left its chill but where a deep void had been, a cold emptiness that had driven you to run in the first place.

This, you realized, was the feeling you were chasing. You just hadn't expected to find it in the back of a stranger's cab.

You pulled off the main road and turned onto a smaller street. The curbs were flooded and the traffic lights shone dimly through the downpour. You cringed at the thought of leaving your little haven, with its calming music, warm coat and absolute enigma of a driver.

"Here's fine," you said, gently tapping the seat in front of you twice in case the sound of rain against glass had drowned out your voice. You caught his gaze in the mirror again, his brows were pulled together, concerned, but he complied and pulled over all the same.

Within a moment of the car slowing to a halt against the path, he turned fully in his seat to face you.

The airport was at least another twenty minute drive and it was a half an hour to the nearest train station. But you'd watched the red numbers on the fair counter as they went up. This was as close as your money could get you.

You shrugged off his coat, the act sluggish and slow with hesitance. As you attempted to hand it back, he pulled away, raising his hands like the item of clothing would burn him.

"Keep it, carinõ. You need it more than me."

You rushed to refuse, practically tossing it back to him. But your fight was short lived and in the end your cabbie reigned victorious.

You reached for the door handle, catching sight of him resetting the fair counter to zero without your payment. He hadn't expected you to see so you decided not to comment.

"There's nowhere else I can take you?" He asked. His voice was so soothing you almost wanted to say yes just to spend more time with him.

You opened the car door, hoping he didn't notice you slipping thirty pound into the pocket of the backseat. It took several attempts of carefully crafted sentences topped with faux confidence to convince him you were fine being left where you were.

“Thank you,” you said, buttoning up his jacket and sending a stiff wave his way. “You've really helped me out.”

Then you were gone, disappearing into the worsening night. And the rain had gotten heavier.

Jake had always prized himself for his indifference; His ability to stumble upon something and, for the most part, decide that it wasn't his problem.

But as he pulled back onto the road and left you stood on the sidewalk, something that felt an awful lot like guilt settled in his stomach. He didn't know why, he'd done his job; ferried you from A to B. And he'd been generous even at that, given that the rain on your clothes had soaked into the leather seats.

But the way you'd sat huddled up and looking impossibly small in the back seat, it stirred up something in Jake he'd dare call an emotion. He'd offered you his jacket, yes, but that was just being gentlemanly, he assured himself.

The car slowed to a halt at the command of a red light, the rain seeming almost louder now that the car was stationary. Jake turned up the radio. There was an angry rumble of thunder in the distance.

"Ay dios mío." Jake drove through the traffic lights and swerved into the other lane. The worsening weather thankfully meant no one was in attendance to attest to his horrific violation of traffic safety.

A minute of backtracking and you finally came into view, battling your way through the wind and rain, his coat serving as pretty useless armour.

You looked like the human personification of misery.

He stopped the car beside you and rolled the window down, raising his voice over the sound of the rain.

"Get in."

You stared at him as though you'd just experienced the strangest bout of deja vu.

"What?"

"You spend another minute out in this and you'll catch your death and personally I don't want to be responsible for you dying of pneumonia."

He was your cabbie. He shouldn't feel responsible for anything about you. Except perhaps for the fact that he was down twenty-one pound in fairs.

Almost to emphasize Jake's point, you sneezed, sinking into his coat as you did.

God give him strength.

He muttered under his breath, before leaning over his armrest and opening the passenger-side door.

"Come on, don't make me beg."

You regarded him again, much like you did when he first took pity on you and pulled over and Jake suddenly remembered that, yes, this definitely wasn't something regular cabbies did.

"Carinõ, if I had murder on my mind I would have done it back on Leyfield Road." He smirked. "You getting in the car now just lets me have a good night's sleep tonight."

You were skeptical, he could tell. But the feel of his jacket sat heavily against your shoulders seemed to remind you that his intentions were good; or not bad at the very least.

As you stepped off the curb and back into the car, Jake took an unburdened breath for the first time since dropping you off. As he kicked the cab back into gear he stole a glance at you, now sitting to his right.

You were shaking, hair drenched and droplets of water falling down your cheeks and dripping from the end of your nose. He felt like he'd plucked a drowning kitten from the gutter and put it in the front seat, all bundled up in his clothes.

You thanked him and Jake nodded, glad that you hadn't asked for an explanation for his sudden change of profession; from cab driver to protector of the traveller's of the night.

"What now?" you asked instead. A fair question. Jake sighed.

"How do you feel about coffee?"

thank you for reading!

moon knight tag list: @bakerstreethound @yoditopascal @moonlighy @linkpk88 @spideysimpossiblegirl @noahspector @malaanii @ineedmorejakelockley @drmeowingfangirl @loonymagizoologist @othersideoftheparadise @doozywoozy @mywellspringoflife

[astroa3h]

mercury through the signs ✨⚡️

Mercury in your birth chart is like the personal assistant of your psyche. It's all about communication, intellect, and how you process and share information. Think of it as the cosmic messenger, zipping through your mind with the speed of light, carrying thoughts, ideas, and words from one neuron to the next.

Aries: When Mercury dashes into Aries, it's like a verbal sprinter. Thoughts and words come out at breakneck speed. It's bold, it's brash, and it's as subtle as a sledgehammer. These folks don't just think outside the box; they set the box on fire.

Taurus: Then Mercury meanders into Taurus, and everything slows down for a leisurely stroll. Here, thoughts are thorough, words are deliberate, and decisions are made with a practicality that could be mistaken for stubbornness. But let's call it dedication, shall we?

Gemini: In Gemini, Mercury's home turf, the vibe is electric. Thoughts zip and zap like fireflies, and conversations can feel like a tennis match with words volleying back and forth. It's lively, it's stimulating, and it's... a bit scatterbrained, but charmingly so.

Cancer: Mercury in Cancer turns the mind inward. Communication is steeped in emotion, intuition guides thoughts, and words are wrapped in care. It's like every conversation is a heart-to-heart, which is sweet, though sometimes a bit clingy.

Leo: When Mercury roars into Leo, it's showtime. Communication becomes a performance, thoughts are grand, and words are delivered with flair and drama. It's confident, it's creative, and it demands attention — and applause.

Virgo: In Virgo, Mercury dons its glasses and gets down to business. Here, Mercury is Exalted and in it's Rulership. Thoughts are precise, communication is methodical, and there's a penchant for critique. It's efficient, it's analytical, and it's oh-so-picky.

Libra: Mercury in Libra is all about harmony. Thoughts are balanced, words are chosen with care, and there's a diplomatic flair to communication. It's charming, it's sociable, and it's indecisive. Like, can you just pick a restaurant for once?

Scorpio: With Mercury in Scorpio, the mind goes deep sea diving. Thoughts are intense, communication is loaded with meaning, and there's a knack for uncovering secrets. It's insightful, it's magnetic, and it's a little paranoid. Relax, not everyone is out to get you.

Sagittarius: Mercury is said to be in detriment in Sagittarius. Here, it's like a philosopher with a hangover. Thoughts are lofty, but scattered; it's adventurous, it's philosophical, and it's tactless. Honestly, sometimes you just need to put a sock in it.

Capricorn: Mercury in Capricorn is the CEO. Thoughts are strategic, communication is conservative, and there's a respect for tradition. It's ambitious, it's disciplined, and it's a bit of a bore. Loosen up, live a little, it won't kill you babe.

Aquarius: In Aquarius, Mercury becomes the rebel with a cause. Thoughts are innovative, words are unconventional, and communication is aimed at shaking up the status quo. It's intellectual, it's eccentric, and it's detached. Because who needs emotions when you have ideas, right?

Pisces: Mercury is said to be both in it's “fall” and its “detriment” in Pisces. It's like a poet who's lost their map. Thoughts are imaginative but directionless; communication is empathetic but vague. It's overly sensitive, and it's confusing. These are the people sobbing after one too many tequila shots.

xox astro ash ✨ Get your own Natal Chart Reading @ astroash.net

[zebulontheplanet]

A lot of people don’t know this because I don’t really talk about it, but I’m talking about it today!

I’ve been to three psychiatric hospitals in my life. Three. That’s quite a lot. I went from ages 12 to about 15 maybe younger, and was in for months at a time. People don’t realize how utterly terrifying and traumatizing psych wards are and it shows. If you even dare to say “psych wards aren’t that bad” then get the fuck out cause we had two different experiences.

It’s constant fighting, screaming, violence, sedation, med trials, seeing people getting restrained and getting restrained yourself. I’ve never personally been restrained or had more than a voluntary pill sedative, but still. Seeing those things, witnessing those things, is traumatizing. Seeing constant violence, being in constant fight or flight mode is not fun.

I would never go back, nor do I think I can ever go back due to my current support needs and the fact I need access to constant AAC which a lot of places deny.

I have severe psychiatric issues, and I think it was a good choice that I went when I did, however I will never be the same because of the experiences I went through while there. Yes, I had some good experiences, yes I had some bad experiences.

I’m tired of the constant romanization of psychiatric hospitals. I’m tired of the quirky “grippy sock vacation” shit because like, what the actual fuck? Do you know what psychiatric wards are like? Do you know how traumatizing they can be? Do you know that you can’t show an ounce of misbehavior or you will get in trouble. I couldn’t meltdown, I couldn’t shutdown, I couldn’t show anger, hurt, anything without getting in trouble! That sucks!

Please stop glamorizing it. Stop trying to make it silly and fun because it isn’t and you’re causing real harm. Instead, educate about psychiatric hospitals, tell the truth. Tell your experiences.

This post is not at all to deter people from getting help. If you need help then get help! If you think it’s the best option for you then go for it! Psych hospitals are great for getting stable on medication. That’s what they’re made for. To get you semi stable so they can do outpatient care or residential care.

I’ll speak more on this later but yeah. This was just my current thoughts.