#as if its some kinda necessity (it is not)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

and! barbarian!fig! its her

[toxiccaves]

Buncha doodlies again, this time lots of glober and an angry horse

The first one is based on this tweet! (Rock Crush is partially blind. I know face/body touching is kind of a stereotype when assumed a necessity, but cardbots have a lot more different shapes than humans and this is only for glober and not everyone they meet. I hope its ok!)

[akalikestodraw]

I think I just experienced gender envy for the first time

Bruh of all things it's a cookie

But nah his voice,his build,his hair I want that... gimme >:3

[arolesbianism]

Yet another beautiful day to have the Maxwel tag blocked (can't see half of the posts in the Wendy tags)

[petorahs]

Do you write fic?

i didnt but wrioney tag was so barren and so i took matters into my own hands. i had to put them in situations so i posted like two fics under anonymous on ao3 when ive always been a fanartist than a writer... here they are though if youre interested! it was pretty fun i think i should continue writing for myself :]

[puppyeared]

moar of them

(guy who has never played cotl) haha au time

[be-good-to-bugs]

i wish i wasn't so shy

[sanchoyo]

ik i said i wanted to do at least 2-3 personal solo zines this year aside from the one i already put out but im having such a hard time deciding on a topic?? 'random art zine' or 'sketchbook zine' feel too random kadhfkj. and the only thing ive been MEGA into lately have been my own ocs but making a zine with them would feel weird..also very niche lmao

[honeybubblebeeeeee]

Arranged marriage AU!Toji x Reader

Summary: Your son with toji, Megumi, said his first words today

CW: toji is cold and distant mostly hurt and no comfort mild fluff i guess??

Idk this was a random thought and now its here

REQUESTS OPEN!

Marriages were not always done out of love. Some were done out of necessity or desperation. Much like the one you were currently in. It was necessity of clans and land squabbles and power hungry old men that didn't care for the feelings of those around them - only getting what they want.

And in your case they got what they wanted. Did you get anything you wanted? Well kinda.

Being in an arranged marriage to Toji wasn't the worst thing to happen to you. It could be worse but it could also be much, much better.

You had known each other since you were children as it was planned from a young age that you two were to be married. You hadn't minded. Toji was attractive and you had a mini crush on him for the longest time but he always detested you. You knew of the numerous women he had slept with before your marriage, having run into them multiple times. It felt like he was trying to push you away, to force you to beg for an out but you both knew that wasn't happening.

You had only been married for a short time now almost two years. It had been mostly uneventful in the name of new marriages aside from - ya know - the whole baby you had. Toji and you were told to waste no time in trying to produce an heir and really that was the only Toji showed you any affection. Outside of those moments he was cold and inattentive. Those moments were only out of the necessity to reproduce anyway. He didn't interact with your son Megumi very much either.

You cleaned up the kitchen after dinner in your large but yet lonely house. Toji was still out. Work or something else you weren't sure. Megumi babbled and bounced as he watched you move around the kitchen from his highchair, music played in the background. You smiled at him as he babbled. "Hi 'Gumi." You waved at him smiling wide. He laughed giddly at your voice, his mop of black hair bouncing with his movements.

He was the happiest and the cutest baby you had ever seen. You were more than proud of yourself. It was only mildly hurtful that Megumi was identical to Toji. His dark hair, his facial structure screamed Toji. The only thing he had gotten from you was your eyes. They reflected back at you as you approached the bouncing baby putting him on your hip.

You danced along to he music, bouncing him around as he laughed and babbled.

You put him down on the floor as you turned off the music. He continued babbling to himself as he crawled around. "Dadadadadada"

You turned almost comically slow to look down at your son. "What?!" Your smile was wide and your face was full of surprise.

Megumi babbled on again almost coherently. "dadadadadada"

You were so in shock you could barely move. Picking him up and swiftly sitting him on the counter. "Gumi did you say dada?! Say it again! Say dada."

Megumi laughed and babbled at you. You repeated the word multiple times, he watched intently his mouth moving as if trying to copy you. More coherent this time. "Dada"

You smiled wide and clapped at him. "Good job Megumi!! Oh my we have to tell Dada don't we? Such a smart boy."

Within the same moment Toji burst through the front door. You looked up at him as he passed by the kitchen, not even taking off his shoes before going to stomp up the stairs. "Toji! Oh my gosh come here Megumi just-"

"Leave me alone." He marched up the stairs. You heard his footsteps through the house and his bedroom door slammed. You looked down at Megumi as his small hands held onto your shirt and he looked up at you with big eyes. "Dada." You smiled softly at him. "Yeah baby... dada." Looking towards the stairs as if seeing him stomp up to them all over again.

Hours went by and he never came back down. You texted him that his dinner was in the fridge, that you wanted to show him something, that you were here for him if he needed anything, that you were sorry he had a bad day and he never answered or even read a single message.

Since figuring out he could say 'dada' Megumi had not stopped repeating it. You knew it wasn't to annoy you but you couldn't help feel a pang of hurt every time he said it. Toji was rarely around. Why couldn't his first word be mama, the one who is always around?

It was Megumi's bed time but you really thought Toji hearing Megumi would lighten up his day a little. You sighed to yourself as you built lego towers with Megumi upstairs in his playroom. Here you were, still trying to be the wife but he really was making you into a stranger.

You bathed and dressed Megumi in his pjs and held him close as he looked up at you. "Should we go see if dada is busy Megumi?" His eyes widened at the word and continued his babbling mantra of it. You walked through the east half of the house where your room and Megumi's plus your own office, some extra rooms and Megumi's playroom were. Toji's side was the west wing. If you were actually husband and wife you would share the north wing, where the extravagant bedroom - apartment practically - sat bare and collected dust. You looked to the double doors at the end of the north hall with disappointment before making you way to the west end and stepping up to Toji's door.

You hesitated before knocking softly. Waiting a moment before looking down at Megumi and shrugging. "I don't know if he's awake bud." You thought for a moment before slowly pushing the door open and peering inside. The light were on so you entered even though you knew you shouldn't. Toji never let you in his room. You'd only be in here a handful of times and all those times were unpleasant.

You walked through the sitting area into the bedroom until you noticed the bathroom door shut. You shook your head, looking to Megumi, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I think we will show dada tomorrow okay?" Megumi was unusually quiet, maybe being able to feel the tension that grew in your body. Turning swiftly you made for the door you came through but before you made it out of the bedroom the bathroom door opened.

"What are you doing in here?" Toji's voice was loud and cold. You turned to look at him. Water dripped from his wet hair, his body damp with steam. A towel hung loosely around his waist. "Did I say you could come in my room?" His eyes bore holes into you. The heat that rushed into your face gave away your fear.

You looked down to the son you both created, trying to look anywhere but at the way his muscled form rippled infront of you. It was easier to pretend you didn't find him attractive or care about him or have feelings for him when he wasn't right infront of you.

"Oh... sorry... I just..."

He eyed you, how you stayed focus on Megumi. The small boy holding onto your free hand. "What happened? Is Megumi ok?" His expression changed as he approached the two of you. His voice still cold and annoyed but a hint of concern hid underneath it all.

Your head snapped to him. Eyeing him closely for a reaction. "Nothing I just... he said his first word today. I thought it might cheer you up to hear it if I can get him to say it again."

His features softened ever so slightly. "His first word?" Toji tilted his head in thought. "What was it?" You couldn't help but notice the small amount of excitement in his voice.

Megumi bounced in your arms at Toji's voice, babbling along as if trying to figure out how to say it all over again. I smiled at Toji and then back down at Megumi. I pointed at Toji. "Who's that Gumi? Hmm? Say dada! Say it again baby show dada."

Megumi babbled and pointed towards Toji for a few moments before sounding out dada once again.

Toji's face immediately brightened. "What?! Dada??" He chuckled deeply, one that sounded genuine and it shook something in you. "He actually said it. Good boy Megumi." Toji stepped up to you and the baby as he spoke. Brushing Megumi's heap of hair back.

You kissed to side of Megumi's head as he bounced on your hip. "He hasn't even said mama yet." You chuckled softly but the tinge of hurt was in your voice. "Anyway that was all I wanted to tell you. Sorry for coming in your room, I know I'm not supposed to."

He shook his head. "it's okay." He assured as he watched Megumi babble and squirm in your grip. He was overtired for sure. Toji seemed to be a different person than the one you had come accustomed. His permanent scowl was gone and he looked almost happy. "Can I hold him?"

His question shocked you. Eyes widening but you handed him over.

Toji softly cradled him, rocking him back and forth as he whispered to him. Megumi didn't cry or fuss, even his overtired babbling stopped. Slowly his eyes got heavy and closed. You watched intently as Toji interacted with your son. If it could be like this all the time.

"He really does have my hair. He's got your eyes too." Toji commented quietly while admiring his son. His eyes flicked up to yours for a moment.

I smiled at him. "Yeah... he does..."

Toji chuckled softly. "He really does look like me. It's kinda scary."

You laughed a little more sincerely than you intended. "He does, has your personality too."

Toji chuckled low. "Yeah, he's cold and distant just like me?"

Your smile dropped, panic set in at his words. "Oh n-no I didn't mean it like that..."

Toji shook his head and looked up at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips at your panicked expression. "I was joking, I know what you meant." He assured as he watched the sleeping Megumi in his arms.

You let go of a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "oh right."

Toji whole aura seemed to relax when he held Megumi. You wished he could be around all the time. That he could be the father figure Megumi needed. That he could be the husband you wanted. To come home after a long day, and sit together. To be able to go to him when you needed a hug or reassurance or just wanted to feel loved. Your eyes focused as you realized that Toji was watching you deep in thought. Shaking your head you held out your arms. "I can take him now if you want. I don't want to bother you."

He held onto Megumi for a moment, seeming almost reluctant before handing him over to you. You smiled and nodded at him, turning to leave. He called out to you as you reached the door. "Wait, Y/N-"

You turned to look at him. "What's up?"

He opened his mouth to say something but closed it slowly. "Never mind sorry. Goodnight."

You eyed him for a moment before reluctantly turning away. "Alright... goodnight."

He couldn't bring himself to tell you the things he wanted to say. He couldn't find the words. How does he make up for the suffering you already endured? You had always so easily melted his cold dead heart, so he kept you at a distance but you had been so close. He already felt it melting.

[togament]

" 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. windbreaker boys edition. "

pt. 1. (sakura, ume, suo.)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : kinda suggestive (i mean it's me. ofc its gotta be suggestive somehow), some swearing, kinda ooc for suo. can you blame me though? we know so little about the man and we're already 140+ chapters deep.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

- canonically doesn't own a pillow so he only sleeps on his side, curled up to conserve heat. like a cat. but after having you around? he's clinging onto you, man. he may deny it vehemently when you tease him about it in the morning, throwing pillows at you as he's blushing profusely, but he doesn't know you've taken a picture of him with his arm over your chest, tugging you close to him. - clenches and grinds his teeth when he sleeps. you buy him a mouth guard so his jaw isn't as tense when he wakes up. (TMJ sufferers rise up) - sleeps in his boxers when you're around but if not, he's going commando, baby. just... text him when you're planning on surprising him in the morning. give him prep time unless you're looking to eat sausage for breakfast. - gets bed hair but doesn't care. he'd have a huge cowlick on his head but he doesn't mind. best he could do is kind of wet his hair? anything more than that is too much effort. - very light sleeper. if he hears the smallest bump in the night, he's immediately up. - has only one duvet and it's kind of falling apart. you gifted him a new one and he almost cried in front of you (not without freaking out about it first.) - talks in his sleep sometimes. you record him whenever you catch him doing it just to play it back for him in the morning. he's always so confused as to how and why he does it.

𝐔𝐌𝐄.

- won't sleep unless you give him his goodnight kisses. you have to. how dare you deny him of the pleasure of kissing you before you sleep? - always lets you sleep before he does because he reads before he sleeps. - needs reading glasses and falls asleep with them on. CONSTANTLY. you have to remind him about them before you snooze or you peel them off when you wake up before he does. has broken one (close to a dozen) reading glasses before you came along because he kept sleeping on them. - has to read before he sleeps. it's a necessity. he reads stuff ranging from philosophy to manga. never fails to fall asleep with a book in his hand too. - checks on a spreadsheet he's got for his plants so he has a game plan ready in the morning. checks the weather and temperature and everything before he does his reading routine. worries endlessly if a heavy typhoon drops or god forbid hailstorms. - HUGE SLEEP HUGGER AND YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. his body just naturally gravitates towards you in his sleep. it's cute. it's endearing. until it's a hot summer night and you're damn near naked because just wearing a shirt's making you sweat. ume's just a happy sleeping puppy of a man, sweaty body clinging to your side. - a very light snorer. you rarely ever get to hear him snore. he only does after a particularly tiring day or after you've had rounds and rounds of se-- - gets a boner most nights. - wet dreams often. you have to help him out in the mornings. - that being said, he's very, very touchy in the mornings.

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

- sleeps like the dead. you may or may not have held your finger to his nose to check if he's still breathing. - never has bed hair. when he wakes up, he looks absolutely impeccable. it's crazy. - has a candle warmer set to a timer. likes sleeping when his surroundings smell good. also has a scent diffuser. - has like... a 30 minute long ritual before bed. candle warmer, check. proper pyjamas, check. pillows plumped, check. skincare routine, done. you always end up waiting for him on the bed while he's apologizing with that sweet voice of his while crawling into bed with you. - only ever sleeps facing up. if you want to cuddle, he could. but he can't engulf you in his frame or anything. just an arm around you or maybe with you pressed up against his side. - he runs cold so he's got thick duvets over thick duvets. they're really soft too. hotel quality. always gets them washed. - somehow you've never caught him in the process of waking up. he's always up before you, brewing tea or cooking breakfast. hell, he already has a set ready for you by the time you wake up. - who am I kidding suo never sleeps.

a/n: just a quick little thing before i hop into bed. doing part two soon bc i wanna clown on kaji so fucking BAAAAAD omg (affectionately) ok goodnight babycakes.

[coldfanbou]

Showtime

In the end, I went with Giselle this week. Also, this is kinda what I meant in the author's notes of the last Eunha fic when I said making a little AU around this building. Anyway enjoy Giselle.

Giselle X Mreader

Length 4K

Aeri clutched at her knees, tears rolling down her face as the video continued playing inches from her, replaying whenever it finished. Her friend had sent her a video of her boyfriend with some woman, a health girl, they called them. She felt devasted at the betrayal, her heart aching because of the video, unable to comprehend how the person she loved could do this to her. 

Hearing the front doorknob jiggle, Aeri was on the verge of tears. She heard the door open and held herself tightly as the bedroom door opened, but it wasn’t her boyfriend there. It was her friend Jimin. The older woman rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Aeri. “It’s okay, Aeri.” Aeri slowly returned the hug, crying as she buried her face into Jimin’s shoulder. “I know, I know.” Jimin felt her friend's grip tighten around her waist. She held the younger woman close to her, letting Aeri pour her soul out to her.  “Do you want to grab some stuff and stay with me?” Jimin asks, patting her friend's head. She felt Aeri nod and slowly let her go. Aeri felt a wave of relief when Jimin offered her a place to stay. “Alright, let's pack some stuff up for you and go to my place.” The pair looked through Aeri’s drawers, packing some clothes and necessities before leaving the apartment.

The drive to Jimin’s home was quiet, and Aeri was in no mood to speak. Once they had arrived and were inside, the older woman spent her time pampering Aeri. She made Aeri a warm cup of tea and brought out her favorite blanket, all in an effort to make her feel better. The familiar warmth of Jimin's home enveloped Aeri. It wasn’t the first time Jimin had helped Aeri through heartbreak, but it was the first time that she had been cheated on. It hurt her more than any other; Aeri was motionless, holding the warm teacup in her hands and staring at the concoction.

“You know you can talk to me, Aeri,” Jimin said, finally sitting beside her friend.

“It hurts.” She whispered, her grip on the cup becoming tighter as she went through her relationship, trying to find where things went wrong. 

“I know, Aeri. I know.” Jimin glances at her phone as she pats Aeri’s back. She gets a message from Yizhuo and Minjeong saying they are on their way. The room is soon filled with her friends, who surround the heartbroken woman and comfort her. 

Yizhuo showed her support through anger, her protective instincts kicking in as she threatened to beat the man, while Minjeong tried to lighten the mood with jokes. The chaotic mix of energy from the two women trying to speak over one another was enough to make Aeri crack a smile. Seeing her smile calmed them down for the moment, allowing Aeri to gather the strength to explain what she saw. The women shook their heads, their protective anger simmering beneath the surface, annoyed that her boyfriend would do something like that to her. 

As they continued to comfort Aeri, Yizhuo's mind began to work. She wanted Aeri to get back at her boyfriend and show him up. When Aeri played the video for the others to see what he had done, she refocused on the surrounding details. She remembered all the details she could, from it being obviously on the ground floor, the neon lights that gave the video a pink glow, to a name written overhead. The friends stayed over for the night, and when everyone else had gone to sleep, Yizhuo pulled up her phone and began searching, finding the place, Tinker Bell. She snuck out of the house, heading over to the redlight district, heading directly for the building. Yizhuo was slightly shocked at its size, as it took up the entire block and was several stories tall. It was an exact match, though. Heading inside, Yizhuo walked down the long corridor, finding a lobby at the end. 

The staff working behind the counter was stunned as an angry Yizhuo turned to him. “C-can I help you?”

“Are you hiring?” She asked without hesitation.

“I, um, yes.” The man said, gulping. “We’re always hiring.” 

“Okay, good. Now, what would it take to be put in one of the rooms on the street?”

The staff was a little more than confused by the situation but tried his best to answer. “Most of the ladies in the front have submitted request forms. We would like to have more experienced workers there, but if you want a spot that badly, I’m sure we can work something out. We have a lot of ladies who want those spots to build up their customer base.”

“Oh, it’s not for me. A friend of mine wants to work here. Here,” Yizhuo how said, pulling out a picture of Aeri. “She’s a little nervous about asking, but she’d be able to get one of those street positions on her first night, right?”

“I, um, we’d need to talk to her. I’m afraid I can’t speak to people who aren’t the workers themselves about this.”

Yizhuo leaned on the desk, her eyes turning soft. “She’s just a real shy girl. It would be really hard for her to ask. That’s why I’m here. Look, you seem like a really good guy,” Yizhuo stood back, walking around the table. “You also look like someone who hasn’t gotten to have any action lately. I’m sure we can help each other out, right? I’ll get my friend to come here and apply in a few days; you give her a room on the street so she can build up a lot of clients and as thanks. I’ll use my mouth to take some stress off you.” Yizhuo pressed a hand on the staff’s chest, reaching into her purse to pull some lipstick out of her bag. “Wouldn’t you like to ruin my pretty face?” She asked, applying a deep shade of red. “I’ll even let you cum on me, or I’ll drink it, your call.” 

Reaching down, Yizhuo felt the man’s growing bulge, “Please?” She asked, batting her eyes and pouting.

“O-okay,” the man responded. 

“Thank you so much for this,” Yizhuo said, kneeling behind the table and pulling out the man’s cock, stroking it slowly. She raised his cock, planting slow kisses along the shaft, leaving a trail of red lip marks on it as she reached the tip. “Relax and enjoy,” Yizhuo spread her lips apart, swallowing the head and forming a seal around his cock as she bobbed her head. The man groaned, Yizhuo’s tongue lashing at his cock. He placed a hand on her head, pushing her head to take more. Yizhuo rolled her eyes, knowing the man was going to force himself to an early orgasm. Still, she let him have control; she was held against his crotch, his cock hitting the back of her throat. She could feel his cock throb and saw as his legs began to shake. 

“Please drink my cum,” He groaned, his cum spewing into Yizhuo's mouth. She filled her mouth with his cum. After he pulled out, she opened her mouth to show she had it all and then drank it, showing him a clean mouth afterward. Knowing it was something a guy like him would like. 

“So we have a deal?” Yizhuo asked, a drop of saliva running down from the corner of her mouth.

“Yes, I’ll make sure your friend gets a room in the front.” He said, out of breath. Yizhuo smiled at him and rose slowly, kissing him on the cheek before walking out of the building and returning to Jimin’s home. 

She hadn’t expected Aeri to be up and waiting in the living room. “Where were you?”

Yizhuo considered her options before deciding to come clean to Aeri and tell her the plan. “Aeri, that dirtbag of a boyfriend slept with some other woman while you were probably waiting for him at home. I think it’s only fair that you get to have your own fun at his cost. I went out to the place he was at in the video.” Yizhuo decided to come out strong, trying to rouse anger from the Japanese woman. “I asked if they were hiring. I think you should get back at him and show him you don’t need him.”

“Yizhuo…”

“I know, Aeri, but think about it. He deserves it for what he did. He probably thinks he can go out and fuck other girls and still come back to you. You can’t let that happen, and what better way than getting a job there so you can show him you don’t need him.”

Aeri considered Yizhuo’s words; a growing sense of frustration was inside her. It might’ve been her emotions blinding her, but Aeri felt that Yizhuo had a point. “You’re right.”

Yizhuo was shocked that Aeri would side with her so easily but didn’t show it. “Okay, let’s go down there tomorrow to get you all signed up. You said before how he had begun coming home late every night. He’s probably going to go back there again, so he’ll get to see you not needing him, and he can just fuck off.”

“Yeah,” Aeri said with a little more confidence. She wiped her eyes and smirked, “I’m going to show him I don’t need him.”

“That’s the spirit.” 

Without telling Jimin or Minjeong their plan, the pair headed together to Tinker Bell in the evening. Approaching the building, Aeri felt some nerves building up, but with Yizhuo by her side, she pushed onward, heading inside the building. They stopped at the front desk, “I’m back and with my friend this time.” Yizhuo announced.

“Very good,” the man said, pulling out some forms. “Please fill these out, and you can begin soon enough.” Together, they filled out their own set of forms. Yizhuo didn’t want to leave Aeri completely alone, so she applied with her. 

“Stage name?” Aeri said, looking at the form.

“Yeah, we don’t want people to know our information.” Aeri nodded and considered the name she would use. “I’m not going to put too much thought into it. I’m going to go with Ningning.”

“I think I’ll use the name Giselle. It sounds pretty.” Yizhuo chuckled and smiled at Aeri.

“Alright, Giselle,” Yizhuo said in a slightly mocking tone. Once the forms were finished, Yizhuo stood up and handed hers in. Aeri followed suit and handed hers in. “Okay, Giselle, let's get dressed and ready to start. Be safe out there.”

“You too, Ningning.”

“We have a process to go through, ladies. Please follow me.” The staff member walked from behind the desk and led them down a spiral staircase down one floor. “We’re heading to the dressing room; considering this is mid-shift, we’ll have to introduce you to the other girls later.” The dressing room was large, similar to a locker room, with each woman having their own space for storage. The three walked to the end of the room, where the man pointed out the lockers Ningning and Giselle would use. “You’ll have to try on some of the outfits we have on hand for your shift today, but you’re welcome to bring something of your own as well. The company will reimburse you the cost, but once you bring something here, it is for work only?”  The women nodded, “Good, I’ll wait for you two outside. Please choose your outfit for today.” With that, the man left, leaving Giselle and Ningning alone with a closet full of clothes at their disposal. 

They spent some time looking through the clothes, with Ningning deciding on a matching set of lacy pink underwear and high heels. “Giselle, I found just the thing for you.” Giselle turned to see Ningning holding a sheer white bra and panty in one hand and a garter belt and stocking of the same color in the other. “You’ll look so good in this; try it on.” Giselle hesitated but tried on the clothes Ningning recommended. The younger woman clapped and yelled her support, loving how the clothes clung to Giselle’s body, pushing her breasts together and showing off her wide hips. “They’re going to love you out there.” Ningning said, holding onto Giselle’s hands. “Come on, let's go.” The women headed outside, where they met with the staff member. 

“Wonderful; we’re running late, though, so let's take your picture, " he said, not giving them another second of attention. He led them to a room a few doors down, taking their headshots against a white background. “I’ll upload these and get them on the lobby board. Let’s get you to your rooms,” he said, rushing them back to the ground floor. They moved toward the front of the building, stopping at Ningning’s room for the night. “Ningning, this is going to be your room. Please make yourself comfortable.” He said before leaving the room. 

Ningning waved to her friend, “I’ll see you at the end!” She shouted to Giselle before closing the door to her room. The staff member led Giselle further to the front, turning around to face her and opening the door to her room. 

“Good luck tonight; I hope you get many customers. In these rooms, you can attract more attention to yourself by dancing, and don’t forget that if you want more privacy, there is a screen you can lower. Press the red button to drop it and the green to raise it. Most women keep it raised to attract more attention. What else was there…oh you’ll hear a chime when you have a customer on the way. Anyway, good look, I have to give your friend the run down.” With that, the man closed the door, leaving Giselle alone; she turned around and looked at the screen; it was the only thing keeping people on the streets from seeing her. Giselle took a deep breath and looked around the room. It was relatively small, with a twin-sized bed and nightstand on one side of the room and a desk with a chair on the other. She noted that there was still enough space to walk around the room comfortably and headed toward the buttons. She raised her hand to it, hesitating before finally pressing the button and watching the screen rise. 

Surprisingly enough for Giselle, a few people were waiting on the other side. She waved to them. She couldn’t help but blush as she saw all eyes on her. She looked to the ground, rubbing a foot into the floor before looking back up and waving to the group again. Giselle turned around, grabbed the desk chair, and placed it in front of the group, sitting with her legs crossed. She felt awkward and didn’t know what to do; she considered dancing but felt embarrassed. 

After a minute of sitting down, Giselle stood up, wracking her brain for things to attract a customer. She bent over, giving the crowd a look at her cleavage before standing up and adjusting her bra, giving the men outside a peek at her breasts before covering up.

You were outside watching her. You knew she was a new worker, and you had visited Tinker Bell a few times but didn’t recognize her. Something told you, though, that she just needed a slight push to get started. You head inside the building and head to the board, paying for an hour's session before looking for the woman. You spot her, Giselle. Pressing her button, you turn around, take the keycard from the staff member, and head to your room.

You tap the keycard and open the door. Giselle has her hands in balls but bows as you enter. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Giselle.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Giselle. Let’s have some fun tonight.”

She gives you a nod, “Yeah, let’s have some fun.”

You walk up to the young woman, sliding your hand down her smooth back until you reach her ass, giving it a light tap. You feel her shudder. Giselle stares up at you, wondering what your next move will be; she feels vulnerable. It’s the first time she’s going to have sex with another man, and she doesn’t know what to do in this situation. You can see as much; she was like a deer caught in headlights. She slowly wrapped her arms around your neck, breathing quickening as your hands shifted to her waist. “I’ll be in charge tonight.”

“Y-yes, sir.” You press your lips against Giselle’s, kissing her forcefully as your grip on her waist tightens and you dig into her flesh. Giselle stifles her moan, leaning back and keeping her hold on you. You lean back, breaking the kiss and staring at the young woman before letting go of her. “Sir?”

“Hold on, Giselle, there’s something here to help get us in the mood.” You tell her as you walk over to the desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a bottle of oil. “Help me out of my clothes.” You command; Giselle rushes over to you, helping you out of your clothes in a rush. You keep on your underwear, letting Giselle stare at your bulge with intrigue. You turn Giselle around, letting her look at the growing crowd as you unlatch her bra. Giselle catches it, holding it to her chest, but once given the order to let it go, she does. Pursing her lips, Giselle looks to the ground, not daring to look at the crowd as they grow more excited. While she’s in her head, you grab open the oil bottle and pour some onto your hands, snaking them under Giselle’s arms before squeezing her bare breasts. She’s shocked back to reality, your hands teasing her nipple as you make her breasts slick. Giselle leans against you, her voice filling the room as she moans. 

She holds her hands over yours as you massage the oil into her skin. Giselle feels her body begin to heat up and bites her lip. The oil moves down her body, soaking her sheer panties and practically revealing her most private area to everyone. You grab the oil bottle and pour half onto Giselle, massaging it into every part of her body. Moving closer to the window, you snake your hands down under her panties and toy with her slit, running your fingers between her wet folds. Giselle’s moans grow louder as you move upward and pinch her clit, her legs tremble, and she presses her hands against the window, leaning on it for support. Giselle’s mind begins to grow hazy, lust overtaking her body.

You rub against Giselle’s ass, forcing her mind to your cock. “Sir…” She groans, returning the favor and grinding against you.

“Yes?”

“I-you can put it in whenever you’d like.” Giselle moans, submitting to you. You push a finger inside Giselle before adding another. Her walls squeeze your fingers as you pump them in and out of the young woman. 

“I’ll decide when. I want you to look out into the crowd and smile.” Giselle nods, staring out the window and making eye contact with all the men outside, smiling at them as you make her cum. Her walls clamp down on your fingers while you continue to move them, “You’re going to have to build up more endurance if you’re going to work here, Giselle.” 

You pull out your fingers slowly and reach around, pushing them into her mouth and hooking the corner. You feel her tongue move up and down your fingers and smile. Though you can’t see her face, you know she’s in heaven right now. 

You pull down your underwear with your other hand and grab your cock, placing it between her thighs and thrusting. “Ah, sir,” She groans, feeling the hot piece of flesh slide between her slick thighs. 

“I know you want it, Giselle.”

“Please,” She whimpers, moving her hips. “I want it inside now.” You smirk and adjust Giselle’s panties, pressing your cock against her entrance. “Yes, please! Take me, sir.”

You thrust, burying yourself inside Giselle with one swift movement; you press your body against Giselle’s, forcing her to the window, her tits gliding across the glass as you begin thrusting. Giselle’s moans flood the room again; it was music to your ears. You grab her arms and pull them back as you continue thrusting, but keep her upper body pressed against the glass. Her walls tighten around your cock, holding you snuggly as you make sure every inch goes inside. 

Giselle stared out the window, finding a growing sense of enjoyment from being watched by strangers. She smiled at them, showing them just how much she loved being fucked. She felt her hard nipples slide along the glass, bringing her more pleasure as she focused her body around your cock. Then she saw him, her boyfriend or ex, at this point was watching her get fucked by some man. She smiled at him, letting him know he meant nothing to her. 

“Kiss me, sir, kiss me.” She moaned. Her request surprised you, but you gave her what she wanted. You turned Giselle’s head and kissed her, slipping your tongue into her mouth. Giselle eyed her ex, watching his face drop as he watched you take Giselle. “Thank you, sir.”

You let pull back from the kiss and let go of Giselle’s arms moving one hand to her tit and the other to her clit. You play with both, pushing Giselle toward her second orgasm. You move your fingers in small circles around her clit as you thrust, making her cunt tighten around you. Her large breasts filled your hands as you gave them rough squeezes. Giselle gritted her teeth as she felt a tightness in her core; she warned you of her coming climax and screamed as you made her cum. You made Giselle squirt, her slick spraying onto the window as you played with her body. 

Pulling out of Giselle, you watched her drop to her knees. “I didn’t get to cum yet, Giselle. You’ll have to use your mouth.”

“Yes, sir.” She groaned, reaching for your cock and stroking it slowly. Giselle got closer to your cock, giving her boyfriend, who was still watching, a wink before wrapping her lips around your shaft and bobbing her head. You listened to her moan as she sucked your cock. Reveling in the feeling of her tired tongue moving around your shaft, you pat Giselle’s head. 

“You’re going to be a good girl here, Giselle. You’ll just need a little bit of training.”

“Can you be my master?” She asked innocently, popping you out of her mouth and rubbing your saliva-covered cock against her face. “I like this cock; I want you to train me,” Giselle whispered before bobbing her head again. 

The idea of being the only one to touch her body for a long time excited you, but you knew it was better for her to learn how to please different people, so you lied to her. “I'll be your master.” Giselle smiles at you as she bobs her head, pushing you toward your climax. You place your hand on her head and begin thrusting into her mouth, telling her to relax her throat. Giselle follows along with little trouble, taking your cock down her throat. As you neared your climax, you pulled out, jerking yourself off and cumming on Giselle painting her tits and face with your cum. Once you were done, Giselle licked her lips and smiled. “Show everyone how pretty you are, Giselle,” you say, motioning to the window.

She follows your order without a second thought, standing up and giving the crowd a peace sign as they take pictures. Giselle glances at her ex, not caring about him anymore, as she bends herself over and offers herself up to you again. You slap her ass, making her moan before taking her again. 

After you were done with your time, you returned to the lobby, handing in your key and watching as it was immediately handed to someone else. You went outside and watched as Giselle began fucking another man. 

For her entire shift, Giselle did not have a moment to rest. The show she had put on made people line up for her, leaving the young woman covered in cum and sore from the experience. Ningning was left to wash the young woman after, asking how it went. Giselle responded that it went great and that the plan had worked.

[parfaitblogs]

illicit affairs ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you want more than spencer reid can give you. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: angst (18+ for suggestive content) tags: relation(situation)ship. s7 spencer. mentions of past intimacy. unrequited feelings. spencer's not the best person ever. kinda fade to black & unhappy ending (welcome back june parfaitblogs). reader has kinda bad self-worth. word count: 2.5k a/n: soooo fucking cliche man chases the girl after she leaves. im sorry. except im not. so sorry for whatever ooc thing spencer reid does in this. except it isnt ooc. tell me he didnt have a whore phase in s7. u cant. im sorry this is soooo dialogue heavy LOL.

Fractured shards of your soul scatter this apartment. 

This Godforsaken green-walled, quaint apartment, that you had spent so much of your time in. Nights, not days, because his days were spent yearning for an engaged woman. His nights, however, were reserved for you. Most of them, at least. Some of them. A few of them. Not many of them at all, actually.

It was a little embarrassing; how much of yourself you were willing to disrespect for some attention from a man who probably didn't think much about you outside of your presence inside his walls. But then he would touch you, and he would kiss you, and all self-deprecation will go out the window. For he is so gentle, and he knows every single crevice and button to press on your body like he speaks its language. 

Embarrassing.

It started innocently. A night spent with him after you had been broken up with, resulting in one awful decision that led to the other. Crying in his arms, to kissing him, to having sex, which he was rebutting all up until it actually happened. Rambling about transference while still leaving open-mouthed kisses down your neck, shaking his head because you two should not be doing this. 

A week later you went back to him. You were sad, in your defence, and Spencer Reid was your friend first. He was good at distracting you, you learned. You would cry, and thus, he would make you come to forget about it. Like clockwork. 

At some point it changed from a coping mechanism, to an emotional necessity. You stopped thinking about your broken heart, and instead about how good Spencer was to you. Which might've been your biggest mistake.

You were not to him what he was to you anymore. 

And maybe he knew that. A laughable idea, because Spencer Reid, who could be slapped in the face with a poster that said I am in love with you in big bold letters, would still be oblivious to it all. But maybe he knew.

You had to ask this time to come over. Maybe pathetic, how much of your self-worth you relied on whether or not a man you weren't even dating wanted to see you. How much of your world had crumbled around you because it had been two weeks and he hadn't spoken to you outside of discussing a case. 

It was definitely pathetic how small you felt as you sat in the corner of his couch, a glass of water you didn't really want to drink encased in your palms, condensation seeping into your skin. In your defence, it didn't usually go like this. Usually, it took you all of three seconds to get insidehis apartment before he started kissing you. Why wasn't he kissing you?

You could hear the faint sound of shuffling behind you, glasses clinking together and ceramics settling on the marble countertop. The only other indicator Spencer was even there was his irregular breathing. Irregular from what, you didn't know. 

Another beat of silence passed, and with it, your patience. You set the glass down on the coffee table — something he would’ve scolded you over if not for the thick layer of tension between you two.

"Did you not want me to come over?" You regret the words the second they're out of your mouth, and they uncomfortably pierce the air, only to be followed by another thick blanket of fucking silence. You had already said it — you might as well commit. "Spencer?" 

You lifted your gaze from its fixated position on your lap to find him standing still in the kitchen, a bowl in his hands, still damp from its time in the dishwasher. 

"You know you're always welcome here," he replied when you had locked gazes. 

"That's not what I asked," you said, readjusting your body, chest pressed up against the back of the couch, chin resting atop its ledge. You watched as he dried the bowl and put it away, his shoulders deflating, before he turned back to face you. 

"I do want you here," he said, but even with the finality in his voice, you were sceptical. 

"Are you sure?" you despised the insecurity that seeped into your tone.

He stilled again, and even with the distance between you two, you could see gears turning behind his eyes, coming up with a response that wouldn't break your heart, probably. Because he knew.

He could lie. Say that yes, he is sure, and he does want you in his apartment right now, and he wasn't simply entertaining your own desires. Desires that he seemingly had grown tired of. But you would figure him out immediately, and maybe he knew that as well. Stupidly smart Spencer Reid thinking ahead, frustratingly so. 

Instead, he said your name, in an awfully cautious tone. Maybe lying would've hurt less. He took a step around the kitchen counter, ever so slowly closing the distance between you two. 

"It's okay if you don't want me here," you tell him, forcing a reassuring smile and stopping him in his tracks. "You're not forced to amuse me."

"Do you think that's what I'm doing?"

"Yes. You've hardly said a word to me, and I've been here twenty minutes," you rebutted. 

"I told you on the phone that I had some maintenance chores to do." Okay, true. "Once they're done, I'm all yours."

You shouldn't say anything. You knew that. The words on the tip of your tongue would cause an argument, and he had just technically promised to do what you both knew you had come to do, and after two weeks of hearing nothing, any attention from him was good attention. You shouldn't.

But you did. "Are you really?"

His eyes closed and a harsher breath of air expelled through his nose, his hands flexing by his side as he took a moment to respond. "What does that mean?"

"Are you really all mine?" you cringed even as you asked the question. And, you already knew the answer. 

"What do you want my answer to be?"

You could scream. "That isn't fair, Spencer."

"Do you want it to be yes?"

You didn't want to answer that honestly, too afraid of the rejection that was sure to follow. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, this is a relationship, and relationships need communication—"

"—A relationship?" you repeated back to him, incredulously. "You think this is a relationship?" 

Fingers dug into his eyes, and his shoulders sagged further. "What is it, then?"

"Convenient." The word stung even you, despite being the one to have said it. 

Or maybe it didn't hurt him. For he responded, in an achingly calm tone, "Explain that to me."

"Don't use profiling techniques on me," you countered, and he watched as your walls shot up around you. 

"Asking you to explain something to me isn't a profiling technique," he said, taking another step towards your residence on the couch.

"No, but the tone of voice you're using is."

"Would you rather I yell at you?"

"No—Spencer," you stammered so frustratingly in an attempt to come up with a response, emotions taking authority of your brain functions. "I come here when I'm sad, we fuck, I go home. That's all this is. That isn't a relationship."

"I could argue what a relationship legitimately is."

"Please don't."

"Okay," he agreed with a short nod. "Do you want more out of this arrangement, then?"

"Can you give me more if I do?"

His silence was answer enough, and so slowly but surely, you were untangling your limbs from themselves on the couch, and planting your feet on the floor.

"Where are you going?" he asked as you stood up.

"Home," you replied, curtly, and he watched in a still silence as you left. 

The slam of his apartment door was loud, and it echoed throughout the hall. Feet pattered against the stairs as you descended them, quickly, because your tears were forming fast and you were attempting to beat exposure to the outside world before they started to fall down your face. 

But the universe had other plans for you, and your named reverberated throughout the final staircase you had to descend. Your lips pulled into a line in an attempt to neutralise your expression, and you turned at the base of the stairs.

"You want more with me," he said, admittedly a little breathless from chasing you the way he did. 

"Glad you could deduce that one, Doctor."

A frustrated huff left his lips. "Stop shutting me out."

"I'm not doing this here," you replied, taking another step back — that he matched, stepping down a step. "Spencer."

"No, we are. If you are going to walk out of my apartment, then we're having this conversation here."

"I don't even want to have this conversation," you argued. 

"Yes you do."

"You don't know me."

"Yes I do." When you opened your mouth to argue again, he was quick to cut you off. "You want more with me, but you're too scared of me rejecting you, so you're brushing it off as something unimportant, in hopes that I'll forget about it so things can go back to what they were before."

"God forbid."

His lips pursed. "Can you be an adult about this?" 

Your heart stuttered uncomfortably in your chest, and he stared expectingly at you for minutes. Minutes that you let pass, your breaths shallow as you stared up at him, boring holes into his own eyes. Then, "Are you going to reject me?" 

"Yes, but—"

Oh.

Somewhere your name was said once, then twice, but it all sounded far too distant, submerged underwater, maybe. Your brain muddling with every single thought it had ever conjured up in all your years of living, to the point where you couldn't even figure out if the tears burning your eyes were actually there, communications in your brain on lockdown. 

You were detached from your own body as a hand was placed on your shoulder, your eyes flickering over to Spencer's face, which was an alarming amount closer than before. It was his hand, you figured, which meant he was watching you have this breakdown, and suddenly the thought of being like this in front of him was far worse than anything he could've said to you. 

"Okay," you said, almost breathlessly, stumbling back a few steps, nodding your head, and blinking away the tears all at once. "Which is fine, by the way. Because this isn't a relationship. And we agreed on casual sex, so really, you're not doing anything surprising, and I should've expected this. Yeah."

"Can you please look at me?" You hadn't even realised your gaze was flitting around the place until he said it, and you forced your eyes to rest on his face again. "Yeah, there you go. Hi. Deep breath."

You took in the gulp of air, despite it still being shallow from your onslaught of emotions, matching your rhythm with his own. He repeated the act a few more times, until you had settled into less violent gasps, and he was sure you were grounded with him again. 

"You back with me?" he asked just in case, his voice horrifically gentle, and you wordlessly nodded your head. "Can we talk about this, now?"

"In your stairwell?"

"I don't think you want to walk all the way up to my apartment again," he said, and he was correct; you didn't. "I would reject you. That's true."

"Which you're allowed to do," you answered, quietly. 

"I am," he agreed with a nod. "If that isn't okay with you, then tell me. We can call this off right now."

"And what?" you asked, ugly emotions clawing their way up your throat again. "Go back to how things were before?"

"Well, yes—"

"—No, Spencer!" you snapped, and he seemingly hadn't expected it. At all. "I can't go back to normal with you, not after this. Sex is fucking intimate, and it is scary, and you have seen me at my absolute worst and still slept with me these last few months. You have seen parts of me I refuse to share with anyone, because I trusted you."

"I didn't force you to do that," he countered. "You showed me every single side of you on your own accord. So do not paint me to be a villain."

"I'm not trying to," your voice was desperate, and if you weren't so busy using your hands to talk animatedly, you might be tearing out your hair by now. "I just—I don't get it. How was it so casual for you? How can you go back to what we had before all of this like it's nothing?" 

"All of this was never anything serious. We agreed on that."

"No. No, don't explain what this was to me. I know what it was. Answer the question."

How was he so calm? His eyes searching your own now tear-filled ones, but the crease in his brows was the only indicator of any emotion, for his body was alarmingly relaxed. 

He exhaled, "I don't know what to tell you. What do you want to hear?"

"The truth."

"I don't have feelings for you," he said, voice so curt you wondered if it was the way he said it, or what he said, that shattered your barely mended heart. Again. 

"Which is fine," you repeated the phrase, because maybe if you said it enough, you'll start to believe it. 

"So, do you want to call this off?" 

"We should."

He only nodded in agreement; a violent reminder that you weren't imagining the things he was saying to you. This wasn't a bad dream, and he was actually telling you the relationship you had built up in your head wasn't real. 

"I don't want to," you murmured, voice pathetically small, shrinking in your shoes beneath him. "I really like you, Spencer."

"Which is why we should call this off," he reasoned, and you wanted to scream.

"Are you going to be even a little sad if we do?" He parted his lips, and a beat of silence passed. And then you were stepping back, puffing out a strained breath of air, nodding your head in understanding. "I should go."

"You won't talk to me if we call it off," he said before you could get too far from him. When you turned to look at him again, he added, "Will you?"

"No."

"Then yes. I'll be sad."

"Because I won't talk to you?"

"Yes."

You stared at him for a beat longer. "Not because you won't have a fuck buddy anymore?"

"You were never just a fuck buddy," he said, exasperated, the phrase sounding foreign on his tongue. Sorry for exasperating you.

"No. But I'm not enough to like, right?" 

He said your name, and stepped off the staircase he had been residing on, lowering the height difference between you two. "You are enough to like."

"Not to you!" "I am not the only man in the world."

The bottomless pit in your stomach grew larger, only because to you he was. To you, he was everything. And you felt things far too big, and the realisation that he had never and will never see you that way was a world-shattering discovery. 

You sighed, lowering your gaze to the floor. "We never should have started this."

"I agree." 

"I'm gonna go."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, seemingly deciding against arguing with you any more. He merely nodded his head, and forced a smile. "Yeah."

"Bye, Spencer."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[marsprincess889]

VEDIC ASTRO OBSERVATIONS

Part 4

I thought, why not

Editing and finishing this as I have a face mask on

Bharanis are very sensitive, in a very misunderstood way. They're often either dangerously passive and stubborn or fiercely proactive, and this comes from the fact that they can read people well, and are sensitive to the energies around them. They know the importance of sticking to their own convictions/their way. Bharani is the place where you MUST NOT be fooled into submission and gaslighting, no matter who it comes from. It's where all kinds of forces try to enforce influence on you, right when you are so aware of your true calling/desire(s). That's why this nakshatra is so prominent in the charts of great philosophers and thinkers. They are defensive and secretive, but it all comes from the necessity to protect their truth, which is their life, and everything to them. Do not mistake their defensiveness as childish defiance. They know the pain of giving up and the strength it requires to stand up to themselves.

I said this multiple times, and I'm saying at again: ketu is VERY IMPORTANT. look at your ketu nakshatra and just take it in for a sec. Its infulence is on everything. Since you can rarely attribute that infulence on a specific thing in a person, it's often overlooked, but once you start looking at ketu in charts and apply it to the native/their life, you cannot unsee it. Also, when you are being natural, when life feels effortless and when you don't think a lot, oftentimes the appearance of your ketu will come to the surface, i mean, you'll be able to see it physically. Ik I don't look like my ketu nakshatra at first glance but boy do i see it when I look in the mirror, and I like it a lot. Oftentimes, as I've noticed, people love their ketu.

Your true essence, I think, is moon+ketu(very personal and mostly private but extremely important. They color the most of your inner world), then sun+ascendant(your way of dealing with the world, also very important) and atmakaraka+amatyakaraka(your path to yourself). Your chart ruler(ruling planet of your rising sign) is kind of separate but still visible, and it colors the whole chart, but unlike ketu, it's more on the surface and more visible in the native's behavior. I'm not saying you should disregard other placements, but this is how I see them.

Some nakshatras that I think are most prone to agitation/reactiveness(in order of their appearance from Ashwini to Revati, not ranked): Ardra, Ashlesha, Chitra, Vishakha, Purva Ashadha(?), Dhanishta.

In contrast, most stoic and hard to get a reaction out of: Pushya, Magha, Purva Phalguni, Uttara Phalguni, Uttara Ashadha, Shatabhisha, Uttara Bhadrapada.

Ketu in Ashlesha is dangerous like I know it personally(I don't have it tho). Ketu, unless exalted and/or developed by the native(conciously or subconciously) is mostly in a state of ignorance. Ashlesha is, dare I say, the most manipulative placement, but the tragedy is that Ashlesha natives kinda need it, that's what they know. It's the torturous place of attachments and distance and forced attachments and forced distance, of abuse and healing and alertness on a deeply nervous and emotional level. Ketu, the planet of raw, dangerously powerful stored energy and experience in a place like that can be horrible, for both the native and the people around them, especially if the native is unaware of their behavior.

Uttara Phalgunis can be taken for granted by others, especially people they're close to, but those people still refuse to let the U. Phalguni native go. They're so "Sunny" and supportive that some people refuse to take them seriously. The thing with Sun nakshatras though is that they have inner strength and are in no way naive, they just have trust because they trust themselves and know and are proud of their convictions. U. Phalgunis' convictions almost always include support and loyalty to people close to them/dear to their heart, but unfortunately, not everyone can appreciate that for what it is and pass it off as naivety. Mostly it comes from people who value manipulation, which Uttara Phalgunis hate. Uttara Phalguni women/girls especially can be seen as "good girls" at first glance, or as "vanilla", but in reality, it's based on their inner strength and trust in themselves. Ik this sounds biased, that's just because it's personal and I know many examples of it, mine and others. This one's for the "good" ones.

Interesting thing I've noticed: Krittikas, despite being a Sun nakshatra, have a reputation of being "aggressive"? I would not say they're aggressive, but they can be more reactive than other sun nakshatras. Krittika starts in Aries(ram), which is ruled by the active Mars. It's yoni animal is a sheep/goat/ram(sources vary). I mean, its essence is that of fire, and its meaning is "to cut", so, they're kind of aggressive about their individuality/selectivity/. They're aggressively stoic, if that makes sense.

To expand on the point above, a great way to understand nakshatras is to view their ruling planet as what is given/what we have, and the rashi(s) that it's in as what is done with it. So, for example, if Bharani is about protecting/defending(mars/aries) beauty, life and love(Venus), Mrigashira(the Taurus part) is about beautifying/enjoying(passive venus/taurus) pursuit/defiance(Mars). You can see how different those are, especially because a planet ruling a rashi is not the same as a planet ruling a nakshatra, they manifest slightly differently.

Another great way to understand nakshatras is to learn their mythology. I am very well aware that different sources say different things, and ik it's more tiring than rewarding to go from site to site but you can take little details that are consistent and stick to them. For example, Revati's god Pushan is known as the one who guides, who nourishes, but he's the nourishing form of a Sun god. So now you see that Revati is solar in nature, rather than Saturnian(its opposite). It's all about association and how different associations relate to each other. I think this kind of approach is better than relying on other people's opinions and observations.

So, this is all I guess?

Interact pleaseeeeeeeeee 😩💕 esp reblog and comment

[lunarw0rks]

sweet thing | part one

˖⁺‧₊˚ read it on ao3 | masterlist | ask box | next part

price takes a liking to his neighbor. vulnerable, expecting, and in need of his helping hand. it's a good thing he always wanted a family.

john price x pregnant!reader (based on this idea of mine.)

warning(s): MDNI (18+); NOT EDITED, price is touch starved and kinda pathetic, pregnancy, angst/depression, alcoholism, fluff, fem!reader [wc: 1.3k]

Involuntary stress leave, they called it.

But for John, it was just short of decay. Sedentary, bitter—restless. Stuck at home while there's still a fight to be fought, men who need guidance. His men.

Before the stress does him in, he figures boredom will close in on him first, and it would be less merciful than any bullet or blade. Chores are a necessity, and hobbies are nothing more than a temporary soothe to his aches.

Every morning, irony wakes him up cold. Takes its pound of flesh. The world he devoted his adult life to fighting for, has nothing in it for him.

(Stiff fingers, heaving chest, bile in his throat, tremors marring his nervous system.)

It's hours before he can shake the feeling, so he compromises by rising at ungodly hours and fulfilling a rigid routine—still a trained soldier to his core. And by nightfall, he nurses a bottle until he's warm again, ready for the reset at dawn.

As they gaze out the window, his eyes search for purpose. Two fingers parting the blinds. Something, anything, please. But nothing. The sharp sting of cheap booze rushes past his teeth, and he's ready to retreat.

He winces through the taste before he's at attention again. The rumble of an engine cut short right next door. He angles himself to catch a clear view of the person. Instinct yells for him to be vigilant, but the sight in front of him snuffs the bellow.

The flow of a slip dress in the breeze, sticky strands of hair pulled back, glowing skin, a nurturing hand resting on the bump that shows through the fabric.

You look anything but thrilled while you wrangle your bags and fight the wind gusts, and you're well aware of it.

All John sees is bloom. Purpose. Duty.

Before he can gather all his wits, he's closed the front door behind him, his spilled bottle dribbling along the end table. It's not so much your beauty that drives him; he isn't a superficial man and can't afford to be.

A living, breathing person is what quickens his stride. Someone to talk to. Someone to touch and study. As of late, the only people near have been on the other side of the TV screen, fueled by dramatics and in character.

You find yourself stuck in your headspace again, mentally listing all the tasks that await you inside your house. Chores, mostly, some grocery shopping—and loads more of that endless baby planning. Relaxation wasn't an option and you're actively learning to accept that. Although, it's admittedly difficult to feel any other way when you've got another human to consider now.

John clears his throat. "Let me take tha' for you, darling."

He waits until you meet his stare to extend a hand, fingers grazing the flimsy straps of your shopping bags. You freeze, soaking in the sight of him.

"Hm?" Your brows knit together, and it's only then that you catch up with him.

"Your bags."

The man has already taken them before the words finish rolling off his tongue, but he stays in place.

A soft chuckle comes out of you to crack open the sheet of embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm a little out of it today."

Pregnancy brain, you want to blame it on. But deep down you know it's because kindness is a new taste nowadays.

Most are courteous and accommodating, making way for you. Others look at you like dirt on their shoes. Fatigue draining your features doesn't help, and neither does the absence of a wedding band. Early on, you were naive enough to believe society had moved beyond the stigma. Wrong, more wrong, and a fool is all you are nowadays, even if only in your head.

Exhausted, not out of it, he analyses, and his heart aches.

"It's alright." His voice is smooth as nectar, leaving goosebumps on your skin that you'll chalk up to the wind. "Shouldn't be carrying all this by yourself, anyhow."

You fight the urge to scoff and instead lead the way to the front porch.

He's right. You shouldn’t be doing any of this alone.

Turning the key, you step inside and let the words spill. “Yeah, I, uh— I didn’t have anyone to call.”

Price should be more shocked by your words, but he isn’t. He is really, and truly, desensitized to all the misfortune around him. And it’s not any different with you. His eyes—conditioned to spot every minute detail of a person—took milliseconds to notice your left hand.

Feel her out. Find out more.

“That so?” He questions softly but doesn’t give you a chance to respond. You’ve painted the whole picture and more.

His words are full of every sensibility possible. “That’s a shame.” Pity. Empathy. Grief. Outrage. All except condescension; none of this is your fault, he can sense it.

You expect admonition.

Leading a stranger inside is bad enough, and walking the fine line between small talk and oversharing is worse.

But you can’t bring yourself to taste it. Outside of some coworkers and your mother, this is your first taste of organic interaction, and it’s been overwhelmingly amicable so far. Not something you can take lightly; loneliness is prevalent.

You let out a tired sigh, letting the silent gesture speak for itself. What else can you say? He's already got you pegged after spending all but two minutes with you. Makes you wonder how you haven't noticed him sooner, though you remember his driveway is usually vacant and the blinds are always closed.

By now, it's obvious that if he had ill intentions, he would've acted on them by now. The silence isn't thick or stiff—it's refreshing, oddly enough.

When his mouth upturns, the crow's feet around his eyes are made visible. They've witnessed things, awful things, no doubt. But he's also got a world of wisdom in them.

This is the part where you find a farewell, something moderately polite so you don't feel awful for kicking him out. (Not your fault you need to rest your feet. At least you get the sense that he'll understand.)

In search for the words, you place a hand on your stomach, "well, it was kind of you to bring that in, uh—"

"—John." He interjects.

Out of habit, you form a clumsy smile and ache to get the proper words out. "It was very kind of you, John. Thank you."

Without any further direction, he's able to pick up on your hints for him to make his exit. The bar is so low these days, it's almost shocking. Shuffling to follow him to the front door, your hand seizes the knob.

There's a lot left unsaid, despite meeting your handsome neighbor only a short time ago. The voice inside urges you to keep it short. Send him off, get out of his hair. He was just being nice.

"I should thank you again," you blurt, almost abruptly. Price turns on his heels with little surprise, a leer written on his thin lips. "Next time, I'll take another trip to carry the bags."

"No next time, love." A purr and a new nickname.

Too smitten to even notice the ruffle of some paper when he reaches a hand in his pocket. Even stole the pen off your entry table (a.k.a the junk-pile-of-mail-table) and you were none the wiser. Dated, the way he scribbles on the crumbled receipt and hands it to you between his index and middle.

Heat rises up your neck and to your face when you inch closer to retrieve the number, somehow finding it within yourself to not break eye contact. John's gaze stays genuine, despite the puff of his chest and the way he breathes your scent in shamelessly.

Albeit frazzled—you weren't born yesterday; he's attractive and extremely luring and you're single and hormonal. Wouldn't take much for something to happen.

And if not, you know you'll have fond daydreams, at the very least.

"You ever need anything, give me a call. 'M good for more than bag carrying."

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Too Old

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: Dean confronts you about a strange habit, and you have to confess something to him.

Author’s note: hey guys! Currently obsessed with supernatural (I’m very late to the fandom, and just about done the first season), so I took a tiny break from my Sherlock series to write this! Maybe there’ll be more Winchesters in the future, we’ll see!

“Y/N, why is your stupid dog on my bed again?”

You returned from the measly motel breakfast only to find Dean glaring at you, holding your stuffed dog with two fingers like it was made of acid. You bounded forward, snatching it up out of his hands.

“Gee I don’t know, why are you stealing him?” You hugged the animal to your chest, a feigned innocent expression on your face as you looked up at your big brother. At Sam’s light chuckle, you dropped the expression and giggled, punching Dean playfully on the arm when his glare hardened. “Aw c’mon, you gotta admit that was kinda funny.”

Dean only rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, hilarious. Seriously though, keep the dog on your own bed.”

You scoffed.

“What bed?”

Every motel you went to, your big brothers instantly claimed the two beds, leaving you with the fold out couch. Every. Time.

Dean quirked his eyebrow, staring down at you.

“Someone’s feeling sassy this morning.”

You ignored him, turning around to stuff your dog in your backpack and double-checking that you had everything packed. Dean turned his back on you to do the same, tossing over his shoulder-

“Aren’t you a little old for that stuffed dog anyway?”

Your hands stilled, nearly dropping your bag before you regained your composure quickly before your brothers noticed.

“Nope, I don’t care what you say,” gosh, if only that were true, “I’m not tossing him out.”

Dean just scoffed and, you assumed, rolled his eyes.

“Alright, whatever. Hurry up, I wanna get out of here.”

Not twenty minutes later, you were on the road again, another days-long drive ahead of you. When darkness fell and the moon arose, you dug around in one of the bags for a blanket, pulling out your dog with it and cuddling up in the back for some rest. You pressed the soft fur of the stuffed animal up against your face, breathing in its calming scent contentedly.

“You alright back there?” Dean’s gruff voice broke the silence, and you mumbled a positive response as you shifted, trying to get comfortable enough to get to sleep.

…

Two days later, the pattern started over again. Checking into a motel for the night, the fold-out couch, the small bag by your side filled with only the necessities–you weren’t staying long. You never did. And that was fine, just fine.

What wasn’t fine was the next step in the pattern. You awoke in the middle of the night, the back of your neck and your forehead drenched in sweat, your breathing labored. Another nightmare, stupid, stupid nightmare, of yet another stupid, stupid monster attacking you. Was it a monster? Maybe it was a demon tonight. Not that it mattered, you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again either way. You hugged your stuffed dog to your chest and tried to breathe in its scent, before you remembered that you had washed it with the blankets as soon as you’d gotten to the motel.

Sighing in annoyance, you stood with the dog in hand, tip toeing over to Dean’s bed before hesitating. Would he get mad? Would he be suspicious about finding the animal in his bed again? No, you wouldn’t let him, you’d just have to get up before he did in the morning and take it back before he noticed. He couldn’t figure it out, he just couldn’t. You’d die of embarrassment if your big brother ever found out the real reason that he kept finding your dog in his bed.

You’d just have to be more careful next time.

…

Despite your surety that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again after the nightmare, after hours of tossing and turning, trying to rid yourself of the demons that haunted your dreams, you finally fell asleep. Unfortunately, because it took you so long to fall asleep, you didn’t wake up before your brothers in the morning, as you usually did.

“Y/N,” a voice cut through your sleep just as a hand shook your arm, “Y/N c’mon, time to get ready.”

You groaned, rolling over and blinking up to see Dean hovering above you, just before something dropped onto your head. You grabbed at it with your hand, and pulled it away enough to look at it. When you saw what it was, your stomach dropped.

Your dog. You’d left it in Dean’s bed again, and you hadn’t gotten up to retrieve it.

Dean was frowning at you, “That thing was in my bed again. Why do you keep putting it there? I know it’s not getting there on its own, and I know that Sam’s not determined enough in pranking me to lose precious minutes of sleep just to put this darn thing in my bed.”

You shook your head groggily, trying desperately to hide both your guilty look and your embarrassment as you shoved the animal into your bag.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean. I didn’t do that.”

Dean grabbed your arm and turned you to face him.

“Come on, don’t give me that, I know when you’re lying,” He sighed. “Look, you’re not in trouble or anything, I’m not mad. It’s not that big of a deal, I just can’t figure out why you’re doing it.”

You shook your head.

“Dean, I mean it, I’m not-”

“Hey!”

Dean’s sudden change in tone made you flinch. You hadn’t expected him to get so persistent about something so small, but you should’ve known him better than that. He never let anything go.

“I told you, I’m not mad. I just want to know. C’mon, you can tell me anything.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but you also knew that Dean wouldn’t drop this no matter what you said. You figured you might as well get it over with now, with Sam out–probably getting coffee. The less people who had to hear your confession, the better.

“It smells like you,” You kept your voice so quiet, you almost hoped Dean hadn’t heard you.

“What?”

Ok, that backfired. Now you wished he had heard you, so you didn’t have to repeat it.

“When I leave it on your-on your bed. It smells like you.”

Dean was frowning at you now, curiosity covering his features.

“I don’t understand.”

You cleared your throat, blinking rapidly and trying desperately to look anywhere in the room but at Dean’s face.

“I leave it on your bed, because then it smells like your cologne. It-it’s a nice smell, it helps me sleep.”

Dean was trying desperately to catch your eye, but you wouldn’t let him.

“Ok,” Dean said slowly, thinking through your explanation. “You could’ve just sprayed my cologne on it, I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

You huffed in frustration, your cheeks growing more flushed with embarrassment by the second.

“It’s not just-just your cologne. It’s like this mix of your cologne and shampoo and-” you stopped your rambling, too embarrassed to go on. “Look, just forget it, ok? If it really bugs you so much, I can stop.” You swallowed hard, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t tell you to stop. You were having a hard enough time sleeping as it was, you weren’t sure how well you would do if Dean made you stop your little routine.

Dean shook his head.

“No, no it doesn’t bug me. I just don’t get it.”

Your lip was quivering now, and the longer Dean penetrated you with his stare the more you felt like crying.

“It’s just…it reminds me of-of when you used to let me sleep in your bed. When I was having a nightmare,” your breath caught when you felt a tear trailing down your cheek. You really didn’t want to cry in front of Dean, but his gentle, yet firm grip on your arm told you that you wouldn’t get out of this conversation easily. “But since you said I’m to-too old for that, I figured this might be ok.”

Dean was frowning again, and you couldn’t help but notice the alarm on his face when he saw your tears.

“Hey now, when did I say that?”

You bit your lip to keep it from trembling, flitting your eyes upward so that you didn’t have to look Dean in the eye.

“U-um, maybe a couple months ago? When I tried to,” you choked on the lump in your throat, but forced yourself to keep going, “When I tried to get in your bed one night, you tol-told me to go back to my own bed, because I was too–I was too old to sleep in your bed.”

Dean’s brows scrunched together, and a sigh escaped his lips as he tried again to catch your eye.

“I don’t remember that.”

A sound that sounded half laugh, half sob escaped your throat, and you ducked your head in shame.

“I do.”

You felt Dean’s strong arms wrap around your shoulders, and before you knew it his hand was at the back of your head, pushing your face against the soft fabric of his shirt as his other hand rubbed your back.

“I don’t remember…baby, I didn’t mean it. You can come to me whenever you need to, ok?”

You sniffled, wincing when you saw you were getting tears all over his shirt.

“I don’t need to…I shouldn’t…Dean you’re right, I’m too old to-”

“No,” Dean’s voice was firm, and he pulled away from you just enough to try to look into your eyes. But you wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Look at me.”

Slowly, reluctantly, you let your eyes stray to his, and you saw resolve hardening his gaze. But there was a softness there too, a tenderness that only you, his baby sister, got to see.

“You’re never gonna be too old to need me, ok? I’m always gonna be here for you, I promise.” Dean sighed, and when his gaze wandered below your eyes you knew he was seeing the dark circles planted there. “You’ve been having nightmares, right? That’s why you wanted to sleep in my bed?”

You nodded, your head again ducking in shame. Dean’s strong fingers gripped your chin, lifting your head up so you were forced to meet his gaze.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not gonna let you go through those alone, ok? Next time you have one, I want you to come straight to me, understand?”

There was something comforting about Dean’s commanding tone. If he had been only reassuring, you would’ve perhaps felt that he was just trying to be nice. But his “soldier tone”, his ordering you to come to him, made you feel less like you were bothering him, and more like you were following an order, something that you knew made him happy.

You snapped a sarcastic salute, and even though he tried to hide it, you saw the corners of his lips turn up slightly at your action before he maintained a more serious expression.

“Alright, alright, you little smart-alek,” He pulled you into his arms again and stood, holding you off the ground and making you giggle, before he dropped you to the floor and clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Go get your stuff, ok? We’ve got about a thirteen-hour drive ahead of us before we reach where we’re going.”

Just as you turned to grab your bag, Dean gripped your shoulder a little tighter and leaned down to look at you.

“Hey, when we get there tonight, I want you to come to me if you can’t sleep, ok? Promise me.”

You smiled widely at your big brother, and lunged forward to wrap him in a hug.

“Promise.”

[driftsart]

if its okay, could u explain who’s in Tarns group, who’s in Megatron’s group, and which decepticons are captured and if they are treated Kindly there?

(if u don’t get message i might like resend it just in case because i know you have loads of asks :)

Sure!

In Megatron's group as of right now, there's Starscream, Soundwave, Shockwave, Soundwave's cassettes, Starscream's seekers, knockout, breakdown, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Thunderblast, Lockdown, Swindle, Hook, and Blitzwing (before his capture)

(Megaempress and her group are another thing)

The main ones being:

Tarn's group isn't really complete yet, so far I only have Tarn and his most trusted sidekick and mad scientist, Arachnid. (I'm still working on that group lmao)

As for the Decepticons that were captured,

The only surviving one at the moment is Blitzwing, and he's not doing too well. Sentinel keeps prisoners in a hidden area of cybertron's autobot base, and it's hell in there (kinda like a concentration camp (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠))

Blitzwing's gets a little help from Bee, an autobot who sneaks in sometimes to give Blitzwing the necessities (like energon/food?) in return for some "truth/stories"