#but like time and time and time and time and time again I’ve had people leave and i’m

[snoopychris]

introducing… dad’s best friend!chris x reader

warnings: unprotected p in v (DO. NOT. DO. THIS.), no use of y/n, reader has daddy issues, chris is 33 and has a daddy kink, a little dirty talk, dumbification if you squint. oh and also dad!chris.

“so you have kids? you look like one yourself but… maybe i’m just flattering you. but you gotta be at least 18 to be at the airport alone and you’ve got a vertical ID so you’re at least 21.” the bartender speaks, continuing to shake your drink all around.

you chuckle and shake your head, leaning your chin further into your chin. “no i don’t. i’m 23 though…i should probably get on that or something. i don’t even got a boyfriend… just visiting my dad and his new family for the new years. you? any kids?” he sends you a smile as he places the drink in front of you, tasting it from a straw before handing it off. “what is this again?” you ask, furrowing your brows as you take a sip.

the man across the counter chuckles as he grabs another drink ticket, making the beverage all while conversing with you. “i call it the chris. named after the best damn bartender this place has ever known. me. duh. but yes. i got a son. he’s 4. his names owen.”

“he probably looks up to you. don’t screw him up. but with all that aside, how can you be so sure of that?” you whisper, licking your lips as you grab the drink from the counter once more.

“i’ve been workin here since i was 18 years old. first 3 years i was only washing dishes but ive seen a good amount of bartenders come and go. i know im the best bartender that’s ever been here. 15 years of evidence.” his voice is more confident than cocky. a kind of attitude you’d kill to be in bed with. you hum in acknowledgment, looking at your suitcase besides you as the airport PA begins to speak again. the words are incomprehensible, but chris seems to understand them. some flight is leaving from gate B17.

“you think it’s weird or pathetic or something if im drinking at an airport bar at 2pm to avoid seeing my father?” you question, stirring the drink around with the small plastic straw.

“i’ve seen people here blackout drunk at 11am. i think you’re fine. what’s your name again, kid?” he asks, his lips parting as he pours a beer for a man besides you. you give him your name and he hums, handing you a piece of chocolate from behind the bar. “i think kid suits you better.” you furrow your brows at the gesture, reluctantly taking the sweet. “kid, just take it. it’s a piece of chocolate. no harm done if you take it. you don’t even gotta eat it. just get that look off your face. you look sad. you’re too pretty to look that sad.”

you blush at his words, popping the chocolate into your mouth. you slide your empty glass back across the bar, sending the bartender a smile- a real smile- and thank him honestly. “what time does your shift end?” you question, noticing another bartender begin to settle in.

“my shift? the second that you tab out. you want another and keep enjoying my company or you gonna head to your dad’s house?” he teases, washing the glass you handed to him. you shake your head and sigh, sitting up straight. “should probably head home. can i get the tab?” you whine, leaning your arm and head on the marble counter.

“nah i got it. get outta here. go see your dad. be nice to him.” he smiles, clocking out for the day. you slowly walk away, hesitantly pulling your bag with you.

when you finally make it out of the airport after an excruciatingly long walk, you let out a sigh. you knew you had four options. call a cab, call an uber, call one of your high school friends, or call your dad. you take a moment outside to gather your thoughts, only being brought back to reality when you bump into somebody behind you.

“shit i’m so sorry!” you groan, turning to profusely apologize to whoever was the victim. you smile when you notice that it’s chris. “oh. you again. following me are you?” you tease, poking at his shoulder.

“why you still here?” he questions. even though he hardly knew you, he felt like he still had an authority over you for no reason other than he was older than you by 10 years. you shrug as you let out a sigh, looking around. “i just don’t wanna see him yet. i mean… i dunno.”

chris sends you a look of remorse but then pulls you into a tight hug, one you clearly needed. he rubs a hand over his mouth before speaking. “you trust me enough to come back to my place? just till you feel good enough to go to your dads.” the look you gave him made him practically collapse.

your back was arched to a point that you didn’t even know you could reach. your face was buried into a pillow that was most definitely being stained with your mascara. “take it. thaaaaatts a good girl. take that dick. fuck you’re so tight.” chris speaks, his pants getting heavier with each of his thrusts. he’s holding your hands behind your back while you’re pushing yourself back onto his dick. it’s practically impossible for him to go any deeper into you, but you try to get him farther anyway. his grip on your wrists tightens when you let out another one of your whines. he can tell that you’re trying to spit out a sentence but that you’re unable to based on the cockdrunkness you’re experiencing. all you manage to achieve is a “c-cumming” and even that comes out all whiney and in chris’s words ‘pathetic.’ “y’gonna cum? fuck yeah you’re gonna cum. come on, pretty. cum all over daddy’s cock.” he whispers into your ear, leaving a mark on your neck as he lets go of your hands. your orgasm takes over your body, and any control of yourself you had left is out the window. you squirm and shake while chris is just smirking behind you, continuing his thrusts. he pulls out once you’ve settled down, spurts of cum falling onto your ass and lower back.

chris isn’t an asshole. he helps you clean yourself up and look presentable enough to go visit your dad. he even offered to drive you, but you refused because of how close it was. the arrival at your dads house was… fine. his new wife was fine and his four year old son was fine. it was all just fine. you could tell your dad tried cheering you up multiple times but it never worked.

the next day was the same shit, different day. you had to get through the day acting like you liked your step mother, had to get through the day acting like you tolerated children, and had to get through the day acting like your father didn’t hurt you when he left 6 years ago. you’re half tempted to go to the airport just to go to the bar. a knock on the door catches your attention, only furthered when your dad calls out to you. “hey honey can you get that? that must be your brothers friend and his dad, we’re buddies!. i invited them over for lunch!” he yells, to which you comply to almost immediately.

you open the door slowly, your eyes adjusting to the brightness of the outside world. a breath gets stuck in your throat when you’re met with the same eyes you saw at the bar. chris, whose eyes are about to pop out of their sockets, covers his sons ears as he speaks for both of you. “shit.”

a/n: new au who cheered! i did! i did! i finally get to write for chris thank GAWD cause as a chris girl i sure write a lot for matt.

tags(reply or message to be added): @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @chrisscoraline @ayesha-eroticaa

[traveler-at-heart]

Speak or die?

Summary: You have a crush on your poetry professor.

Professor Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request by @jujuu23 :) Hope you like it

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

            Shall be lifted—nevermore!

Professor Romanoff closes the book, the classroom silent as she walks to the front. Her raspy voice had a way of enchanting people, and it almost felt like she had cast a spell on everyone.

“Thoughts?” she asks, adjusting her glasses. Her beautiful features are framed by a couple of strands of fiery hair, the rest of it tied in a messy bun.

A couple of people lean back on their seats, nervous about being called to participate.

“What a weirdo” Barnes says, and some of your classmates laugh.

“Thank you, for that very insightful analysis, Mr. Barnes. Any other thoughts you’d like to share with the class?”

Before he can speak again and say something even more stupid, you jump in.

“It’s about madness, caused by grief. About his beloved, who he’ll never forget but is gone. It’s the same theme in Annabel Lee and Lenore. Though I think Annabel Lee is a lot less haunting… there’s a certain serene beauty to it.”

“Very good, Miss Y/L/N. And of course, we have the references to Pallas Athena. Not uncommon for Allan Poe to mention Greek mythology. Your next assignment will be to find and discuss examples of mythology and classical literature within his work”

As everyone leaves the room, you walk next to the professor’s desk.

“I’ve enjoyed your essay. Well, both of them” she says.

“Both?” you stop, looking confused.

“It’s very obvious your boyfriend is not writing his papers” she tries to keep her composure, but finds it irritating that someone as bright as you is with Barnes of all people.

“Oh, Bucky? Yeah, I might have helped him a bit… not my boyfriend, though”

You think it’s best to leave out the fact he enrolled in this class to meet pretty girls and act like he knows about poetry.

“Well, he should still do his own homework” Natasha says, this time with a kinder tone. “And nice work today”

“Thank you” you nod, smiling as you leave the classroom. 

You hope Professor Romanoff didn’t notice the way you were blushing at her praise. 

—

Natasha glances at her cozy living room one last time. It’s a crisp autumn night, and she could still cancel her plans and stay home with a good book and a glass of wine.

But she’d never hear the end of it, would she?

The woman takes a cab to the gallery downtown, hoping the evening ends early and she can at least read a chapter or two of her novel before bed.

As she enters the crowded space, Natasha feels the need to turn around and leave. Carol’s voice stops her.

“Fancy meeting you here”

“Yelena made me do it” the redhead explains, standing next to her colleague and friend.

“Well, she’s quite the artist. You should be proud of your sister” Carol says, looking around the room until she finds the younger woman. Natasha nods her thanks and walks to her sister, smiling.

“You made it!” Yelena, who was explainig her sculpture to a man, stops mid sentence and hugs Natasha. “I thought you’d find a way to stay home and avoid being out”

“I promised I’d be here. Go. I’ll have a look around” Natasha says when another woman walks up to Yelena.

“Try the appetizers, they’re really good!” Yelena says before going up to meet a group of art dealers.

It’s a big night for the Art Department. They have been planning this exhibit for months now. Plenty of critics and art dealers would stop by, hoping to find the next big name.

Natasha walks around, eyeing the paintings and sculptures in the room. Distracted by a very abstract work, she fails to notice another person walking behind her until her back collides with a shoulder.

“Sorry” she turns, surprised at meeting your eyes and friendly smile.

“Hi, Professor Romanoff” you greet. “How are you liking the exhibit?” 

“It’s good. What are you doing here?”

“College paper business. And to support my roommate, Wanda” you point at a couple of paintings, with very dark themes and distorted faces. “She’s uh… going through her misunderstood artist phase” 

“Well, she’s certainly committed to it” Natasha says, looking at the girl who must be Wanda, dark hair and smokey eyes giving her a grunge look.

“She’s a sweetheart” you promise, knowing that’s only one side of her. You’ve seen her cry over The Dick Van Dyke show, for heaven’s sake. Though you promised you’d never tell anyone. “Want to be on the record for me?”

“How so?”

“Just tell me what you think of the exhibit. Or the department in general” you shrug your shoulders. “It’s good that other faculty members are here”

“Well, I’ve known Carol for years, back when we were both students. She’s very committed to her work and advancing the curriculum, so it’s great to see an amazing selection tonight. My sister seems to think a great deal of the success is due to Danvers”

“Your sister?”

“Yelena Belova” Natasha clarifies. At hearing that name, you blush and she immediately assumes that something happened between you two. 

The reality is, you’ve spoken about how much you love your poetry professor in front of Yelena on more than one occasion. Now you understand why she laughed so hard when you said Natasha was Aphrodite reincarnate.

That little shit.

“Yeah, I know Yel. Wanda and her hang at the dorm, I mean, we all do” you trip over your words, picking up a glass of red wine to ease your nerves.

“You sure you can handle that?” Natasha asks, appreciating the way your cheeks blush at the taste of the alcohol.

“It’s fine” you lick your lips, missing the way Natasha follows the movement with her eyes.

“Well, it’s nice to know Yelena has someone with common sense to keep her grounded” Natasha says and inspite of your internal struggle, you smile.

In that moment, Carol clinks her glass gently, getting everyone’s attention. As she speaks, you try to listen to her words -the toast should be mentioned in the article- but your mind is focused on Natasha’s parfum, and the warmth of her body as she stands next to you. Once Danvers is done, everyone claps and you take a breath, thinking it might be a good idea to get some fresh air.

“Sestra, there you are” Yelena walks up to you two, a knowing smirk at your affected state. “I’d introduce you but I believe you already know each other”

“Yeah” you smile, looking anywhere but Natasha. “I’ll leave you to it, gotta talk to a couple more people. Enjoy your evening”

Yelena doesn’t move, so you’re forced to walk very close to Natasha, and the moment your eyes meet you almost forget how to breathe.

The redhead doesn’t miss the way your pupils are blown or the not so subtle way in which you glance at her lips.

She wants to reach out and grab your wrist, turn you around and devour your lips in a messy kiss. Instead, she sees you walk towards your friend.

“See? Aren’t you glad I made you come out of your cave?”

Apparently, your crush wasn’t one sided after all. 

—

The school paper. Natasha barely paid attention to it, even when it was delivered every Monday to her office, same as every faculty member at Lang University. 

This time, she is eager to open it and read your article. There it is, your name and a very long piece about the exhibit. Your prose is exquisite, and you didn’t just deliver an event summary; it’s a deep dive into the department, budget cuts and how students and professors are investing their own resources to keep the course alive.

Right under the dean’s nose. Natasha has to smile; it’s true that Howard Stark was more inclined to favor the Science department and a number of protests had gone unanswered on his side. Most of them came from tenured professors, as part time teachers and students were concerned with some sort of retaliation.

Not you, though.

Natasha is so focused on the article that she misses the knock on her door until Fury comes in.

“Romanoff” he greets. “Picking up on some light reading?”

“Something very entertaining” she turns the pages to show your article and he chuckles.

“She’s got balls” he recognises. “Heard she was talking about it with some art dealers who donate to the university. Apparently Stark is listening now”

“I’m happy to hear that”

“That’s not why I’m here, though” Fury sits down, crossing his legs. “The Foster Grant”

“What about it?” Natasha says, playing dumb. She hates to be the center of attention. “I know I got it, it’s no big deal”

“It is to the department. We don’t want to be the next on the list of budget cuts”

“Maybe we’ll just have to ask Y/N to write an article for us” she jokes, but Fury just smirks knowingly.

“Great idea! Let’s have her write something about your work and the research you’ve been doing” he slaps his knee, standing up. 

“What?”

“Well, don’t look at me like that, it was your idea, Romanoff. Better be this week so it’s on next Monday’s edition” he winks, leaving her office whistling.

As usual, Natasha is blindsided by her boss. How on Earth will she manage a conversation alone with you?

Still, Fury leaves no room for argument, and at the end of Tuesday’s class, you approach her desk.

“I was told you had an assignment for me” you say, biting your lip nervously.

“Yes, that’s right. Something about a research grant, it’s really not a big deal. Sorry that Fury put you up to it” she dismisses the thing like it’s a nuissance.

“I don’t mind at all. Just wanted to check if… when do you want to meet. And where. It would be better around Thursday so I can come prepared with questions and then write everything over the weekend. But I’ll adjust to your schedule” 

“Thursday is fine by me” Natasha nods. “My office? Last class is at 5, so maybe 6”

“Yeah, sounds good” you nod, blushing. “See you then, professor”

How will you survive this?

—

Thursday comes faster than you’d like, and you’re inspecting your wardrobe as if you’re going on a first date. 

Everythig’s too ugly. Why do you have such ugly clothes? 

Ugh, I should just cancel. 

In the end, you opt for a preppy look, with a black skirt and thights, choosing a black and white stripped sweater for the cold weather.

You run into Yelena and Wanda in the living room.

“Where are you going so fancy?” the blonde says, whistling and forcing you to twirl so she can have a 360 of your outfit. “You’re going on a date, aren’t you?”

Wanda, who actually knows about your appointment, covers her mouth to keep from laughing and you glare at her.

“Don’t”

“What? Is it someone I know?” Yelena looks between the two of you.

“Yes. It’s your sister” Wanda finally cracks. 

“It’s not a date!” you rush to say when Yelena turns to look at you. “I’m writing an article about her research”

“Mmm, right” she nods, not believing you. “She asked about you the other day, you know?”

“She did? I mean, what did she want to know?” you try to pretend it’s no big deal.

“She asked if we hooked up. I told her you’re not my type”

“Oh, please. I’m everyone’s type” you huff, picking up your bag before you run late. You still want to stop by the cafeteria.

“You’re certainly Natasha’s” Yelena mumbles, but you miss it. “Good luck on your non date with my sister”

“Not a date… although, what’s her coffee order?” 

“I’ll tell you if you admit it’s a date”

By the time you finally get Yelena to answer, you’re ten minutes late, walking around campus with two coffees and cookies. Knocking with your elbow, you hear a soft come in and figure out how to open the door. 

Juggling everything, you walk into Natasha’s office.

“Let me help you” the woman says, standing up and rushing to your side. You hand over the cup with her name. “For me?”

“Yes”

“Thank you. I’m sorry, I should be the one with a drink to offer. How did you know?” she licks her lips, appreciating the sweet flavor of the caramel macchiato. Her glasses fog from the warmth of the drink and you have to resist the urge to kiss her.

“I asked Yelena” you admit. “Glad to know she wasn’t pranking me” 

“I do have a sweet tooth”

“No worries, I won’t write anything about it” you take a notepad and your phone to record. “May I?”

“Please” Natasha settles behind her desk, appreciating that cute little frown that always appears when you’re focused. You go over your notes for a minute and then nod, ready to begin.

The hour goes by quickly, and Natasha feels proud when she notices you’ve stopped taking notes, genuinely interested and asking about everything she’s been researching for the past year and a half.

“Oh, it’s getting late. I’m so sorry for keeping you here” you apologize, looking at the time. 

“That’s ok, I’m free for the rest of the evening. I cleared my schedule just for you”

The words make your heart flutter. Of course she doesn’t mean anything by it, but how you wished she did.

“So, do you have time for a couple more questions?”

“Sure” 

For you, she has all the time in the world. Natasha could spend all night watching you put that lose strand of hair behind your ear, while you write down your thoughts. 

It’s dangerously endearing.

“I’d like to know… your favorite poem” you ask, more for yourself than for the article.

Natasha takes a deep breath, standing up and walking around her desk. She speaks as she approaches you, in that soft, tender tone that always makes your heart skip a beat.

“I loved you; even now I may confess,

Some embers of my love their fire retain;

But do not let it cause you more distress,

I do not want to sadden you again.

Hopeless and tongue-tied, yet I loved you dearly

With pangs the jealous and the timid know;

So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely,

I pray God grant another love you so”

Natasha looks into your eyes as she sits on the edge of the desk, mere inches away from you. 

In truth, you had expected her to answer with the poem’s title, not recite it to you so passionately.

“Pushkin” you sigh, looking at your hands.

“Very good” she praises, which makes you blush even harder. “It sounds better in Russian, though”

“I can imagine” you say, torn between wanting to hear it or not. You might lose your last sliver of self control if she speaks her native language.

“Is there anything else you need from me?”

You need to kiss her, discover how her lips feel against yours. Hold her hand, guide her up your skirt…

“Yes. I… mean, no, I have everything I need, professor” you snap out of your thoughts, looking flustered. “Thank you so much for making the time to speak to me”

“I always have time for my best student” she says, standing up and walking you to the door. “I’m looking forward to reading your article”

“I’ll try to live up to the expectations”

“I’m sure you will” she says gently, leaning against the threshold of the door. You look at her lips one last time before stepping back, wishing the evening could be prolonged.

Natasha watches you walk away, already missing your presence.

—

You spend the weekend reliving the interview. Thank God you kept recording when Natasha recited Pushkin, because now you have it for posterity.

The article is done, has been since you got back to your dorm. The words flowed effortlessly as you remembered everything Natasha said, and so you spent all night writing and correcting it until it was perfect. Even your editor was impressed when you sent it over.

Now, all that’s left is you, the recording and the view from your window. You listen to Natasha over and over again, hoping her presence migh somehow slip into your subconscious and then, she’ll be in your dreams as well.

As if you had summoned her, Natasha appears outside your window, walking with Yelena. As her sister walks into your building to meet with Wanda, Natasha looks up, waving at you. You remove your headphones, blushing at the fact that you were just listening to her speak on the recording.

“How’s the article coming along?”

“Signed, sealed, delivered” you smile. “I do hope you’ll like it”

“It will be the first thing I read tomorrow” she promises, saying goodbye. This time, you don’t bother to hide the fact that you’re staring as she leaves, and a little part of you feels like Juliet, watching Romeo walk away.

Forbidden love.

No, not forbidden. Unrequited.

With a sigh, you walk away and join your friends, thinking it’s better to distract yourself now that you remember Natasha Professor Romanoff is out of your reach.

Still, you can only fall asleep as you listen to her reciting that poem over and over again. And when you wake up, the resolve to see her again overcomes every fiber of your being. 

So you walk up to her office, knowing very well she’s there at break of dawn.

“Y/N” she says, looking at the paper in your hands. “Come in”

“I thought you’d like to read it. But maybe you’re busy. And you won’t like it or it’s not a big deal to you” you rant, handing it over and turning to leave. “Never mind”

“Stay” is all she says, hand reaching for your wrist. Your heart skips a beat at the contact and you nod, trying to ease your nerves. 

Natasha sits on her small sofa to read the article, and you’re too anxious so you walk around her office, examining the bookshelves. As you approach her desk, you focus on an open book, some notes scribbled along the margins.

“I love it” Natasha says, standing right behind you. You jump, so absorbed by the book that you didn’t hear her stand up and come close to you. She’s now reading over your shoulder. “It’s the Heptameron, by Marguerite de Navarre. I was working on a translation from the German edition”

You can now see the sheet of paper next to the page, Natasha’s writing looking rushed as if she fears the words will be taken by the wind. With a shaky voice, you break the sudden silence in the room, reading the story.

“A handsome young knight is madly in love with a princess

And she too is in love with him

Though she seems not to be entirely aware of it

Despite the friendship that blossoms between them or

Perhaps because of that very friendship

The young knight finds himself

So humbled and speechless

That he's totally unable to bring up the subject of his love

Till one day he asks the princess point blank

Is it better to speak or to die?”

“I found myself thinking a lot about unrequited love this weekend. And so I remembered this little thing” she says in a low voice. “What do you think is better? Speak or die?”

“I think that depends, Professor” you sigh, feeling her hand against your lower back.

“Depends… on what?” she whispers against your ear, making you shiver. “Should I speak about all the times I think of you, of how endearing and wonderful and intriguing you are to me?”

You turn around, cornered against her desk. Natasha’s hands traces a path down your arm, and takes your hand, lifting it to her lips. Your eyes follow the movement, and a sigh leaves your lips at the soft kiss she places on the back of your hand.

“Should I speak about how I wonder what it would be like to kiss you, taste you, mark you, until you’re chanting my name like a prayer?”

This time, her hand travels to your lips, pupils dilating as you allow her to invade your mouth with her finger, sucking gently until she retrieves it, pulling you by the waist.

“Should I speak, then? Or shall we keep pretending neither one of us wants this?” she whispers against your lips. You close your eyes, taking a breath to steady your heart. Her touch, her words, is all too much and you’re afraid it’s all a perfect dream, and at any moment you’ll wake up, alone and desperate for her.

“Please…” you say, leaning forward and capturing her lips in a messy, frantic kiss. Dream or reality, you’ll take Natasha in whatever way you can.

Natasha craddles your face in her hands, spreading your legs apart with her knee. You whine incoherently at her surprising strenght, your hands balled up in fists around the fabric of her pristine shirt. 

“You’re so perfect” she sighs against your lips. “So beautiful”

“Natasha” you plead, wanting to feel her against you, closer, harder. More, more, more until you’re on the brink of destruction and she’s all that exists.

“I want you. Do you want me?” she asks, and you catch the uncertainty in her tone.

“Of course I do” 

If only she could feel how wet you are, all because of her touch.

But there’s a knock on the door, and you both look at the spot, alarmed. Natasha squeezes your hand to reassure you.

“Yes?”

“Just delivering the paper, Professor”

“Leave it outside, I’ll pick it up in a minute. Thank you”

You take a moment to breathe and fix your hair, aware that your lips are swollen from all the kissing.

You kissed your professor. Natasha Romanoff kissed you.

“Are you ok?” she asks, worried about your sudden silence.

“Just wondering if I’m about to wake up from a beautiful dream” you admit, and she smiles.

“Do you dream of me?” she teases, her hand reaching for yours.

“Only when I’m awake”

Natasha smiles, kissing your fingers.

“Would you like to have dinner with me? My place. This Friday”

“Yes. I’d love to”

There’s another knock on the door, but Fury doesn’t wait for Natasha to answer. You jump away from the woman, unsure if this could get her into trouble.

Luckily, Fury is busy inspecting the paper that was dropped outside of Natasha’s office and he doesn’t pick up on anything as he looks up.

“Miss Y/L/N. You wrote an amazing article. Brilliant”

“Thank you, Doctor Fury” you say. “I should head out, my Sociology class is starting soon”

Natasha smiles at you, hoping you understand how much she wishes you could carry on.

But the promise of more lingers in her eyes and so, as you take one last look at her, you return her smile.

“I’m happy the knight spoke, Professor. See you in class” 

“See you in class, Miss Y/L/N”

[seulszn]

Caitlyn is cannonically an Lesbian so don't headcannons her sexuality as anything other than that she's not straight. She's not bisexual she's a lesbian

Vi is cannonically a Lesbian don't headcannons her sexuality as anything other than that she likes woman, she's married to a woman in the LOL universe (Caitlyn). She isn't straight and she's not bisexual.

Ellie Williams is canonically a lesbian not bisexual, nor straight. All of her love interests in the show have been girls never men.

Like the amount of people trying to erase these characters queerness is insane if you can’t accept that character for their sexuality then that makes you homophobic . And who cares about people writing fem x readers about straight characters like hello did we forget straight is the default sexuality? Also just because a character has a partner of different gender doesn’t automatically make them straight.

The fetishization, sexualization of lesbian’s is absolutely sick. Woman can NEVER have a space without a man being upset about something. you guys have a SHIT ton of media out their that are directed to you. Like even lesbian porn, GL’s and Yuri’s are directed to men never the audience it is attended for which is woman.

And the transphobia that is happening in the community is also fucking sick trans women are women idk why this is another discussion that needs to be had in 2025. Writing Male X readers about Lesbian characters is a form or fetishizing which is overall very sick and homophobic and overall harmful. And getting mad and upset about something that is a very serious issue makes it seem as if you don’t see lesbians as humans but as a toy to your sexual mind.

Lesbian fetishization is the act of treating lesbians as sexual objects for the enjoyment of a privileged group, rather than accepting their sexuality. It can have real-world consequences, such as homophobic attacks and corrective grape.

And for all the men mad because Lesbians or woman in general are Men haters look at yourself and see why. You can’t respect anyone and then get so butt hurt when your called out for it. When people were speaking up about you guys writing Male readers about lesbian characters you tried to justify it when their isn’t any justification for your sick and twisted mindset.

If you maybe idk use your brain and realize why woman don’t like y’all you wouldn’t ask yourself “why doesn’t woman like me” like come on now look at the media, look at what is going on in this world right now for woman just existing. Woman in some countries can’t even speak in public without the fear of getting killed. You guys have so much privilege that it’s starting to make y’all think you are so damn superior. Its so tiring seeing discourse in the tags about something that shouldn’t even be discussed

If your a lesbian you like woman

If your bisexual you like both genders

If your straight your straight but at the same damn time it’s a default sexuality. Also majority of the characters y’all arguing about never once said or mentioned they was straight so y’all argument is pointless.

And another thing they aren’t real characters it doesn’t matter but the only things that do are their background, race, and sexuality

A space that is for woman respect it if a character is a lesbian respect it stop arguing about pointless ass shit and Men once again stop fetishizing lesbians and get a life.

Also another thing (I think the account got deleted) stop writing smut for Isha your fucking sick and twisted that’s a WHOLE ass child their ain’t no such thing as aging up a character. If you have to age up a child to fucking sexualize it you’re a whole ass pedo and need to turn yourself in. It is bizarre how many I’ve seen come up on my timeline like chat are people ok in the head? Like this is a repeat of the MHA fandom writing smut for Eri a whole ass child like it makes no sense that you looked and Isha and was like “I wanna write smut about her” like your weird and need to be called out about it.

Both the Arcane and TLOU fandom needs a cleanse and I mean fast cause this shit don’t make sense AT all like yall done lost y’all’s ever loving mind. (I sound like a black momma 😭)

Also one more thing my page is not a safe space for men I put it in my rules that I don’t want men interacting with my stuff because I am a lesbian and don’t feel comfortable with men interacting with my content and y’all don’t even listen to that so as I said before if a space is for woman don’t try to put yourself in that space if you aren’t the targeted demographic. Hopefully everything I said made sense.

[steddieas-shegoes]

real proud

for @steddiemicrofic January prompt ‘new’

rated t | 517 words | no cw | tags: post-vecna, everybody lives, good uncle Wayne Munson, established relationship, fluff

🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻

“I gotta tell ya, I ain’t never had a new car before. All of mine’ve been hand me downs and extra loved,” Wayne says as he stares at the shiny truck sitting in the driveway. “This is real nice.”

Wayne walks around to inspect it while Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand nervously. Eddie didn’t even want to spend his government money, felt like it was only given out of pity and he hates pity. But his van is beyond repair and it wouldn’t have lasted much longer even if they could have fixed it, so Steve suggested he go find something he likes.

And what he liked most happened to be a new version of the first truck he remembers Wayne having. Wayne doesn’t seem to realize that part yet. He’ll get there, though.

“I wanted to find a van, but the ones they had weren’t the right ones for the band. This one can hold most of our stuff and they gave me a deal on a cover for the bed,” Eddie explains.

Steve squeezes his hand again.

“It’s good,” he mouths at Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t even know why he’s this nervous. Maybe because he’s never made any major life decision without talking to Wayne. Maybe because he thinks Wayne will be jealous. Maybe because a part of him still feels gross for using the pity money while Wayne has his stashed away.

Wayne opens the driver’s side door and whistles.

“You better not smoke in this beauty,” he yells as he sits on the leather seat. “Or eat. I’ve got some wax for leather seats I can give ya to keep these nice.”

Eddie finally lets go of Steve’s hand and gets in the passenger seat. Wayne’s messing with the radio even though the engine’s still off. The key’s in the ignition if he wants to test drive, and Eddie’s almost positive he’ll want to.

“This is nice, Ed.”

Eddie looks over at Wayne, who’s smiling at him like he’s-

“I’m real proud of ya.”

Eddie bursts into tears.

He’s been a tad emotional since they started weaning him from the meds he’s been on for months in the hospital and during physical therapy and regular therapy. He’ll cry over some of the most ridiculous things.

It’s not like Wayne hasn’t said that to him before. Wayne’s always proud of him, tells him so often enough.

Eddie just didn’t know if this was the right thing to do, even with Steve by his side telling him it was, even with the dealership people telling him it was, even with the kids telling him he needs to suck it up and get a new car.

If Wayne approves, it’s the right thing.

Steve is standing outside the passenger door, smiling at them as Wayne pulls Eddie into his side.

“You know I’ve been thinkin’,” he says to both of them. “It’s about time I spent that money they gave me.”

“Yeah?” Eddie sniffles.

“Been lookin’ at a house just outside of Hawkins. “Got plenty of room for all of us.”

“Wait. Even me?” Steve asks.

“Even you.”

[starfilmz]

THOROUGHFARE | UNSURE FEELINGS, DRUNKEN CALLS

⤷ A JJ MAYBANK SOCMED AU .ᐟ

──── you never expected that swapping socials with your call of duty duo would change your life — whether for better or worse, you're still not sure. friendships are made and something much more begins.

thoroughfare masterlist ──── 05 | 06 | 07

a/n: chap 6 has been a bitch to post bc tumblr couldn’t handle it but VIOLA it has arrived. this chap became a mix of smau and written fic so we doin something here 🤔 ofc it’ll still be social media based do not fret, but i feel like these written ones are needed for this. not betaread obvs so mistakes are everywhere!! lmk your thoughts, expectations, or how u see this fic ending cuz it is soon 😝

john b stood up as soon as he heard the whirring sound of his best friend’s motorcycle. it came to a stop when he stepped out on the château’s porch, leaning against one of the posts with his arms crossed. jj looked disheveled and as much as he wanted to say “as per usual”, the boy walked towards the house as if he ran into several bushes on the way.

he had a frown on his face as he faced john b. “i don’t know what do,” he finally spoke, his expression morphing that tells john b he didn’t want to admit to that. “long distance relationships are weird and, i’ve experienced worst that weird, man, you and i both know that and i—“

“alright, calm down,” john b grabbed the boy’s shoulder before he could go on another self-destructive tangent. “let’s talk about this, okay? pope said he’s on his way with beers.”

jj sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair. “it feels unfair for her that i’m making a big deal about this. it’s the whole rafe thing again! honestly, i genuinely think i overreacted.” he sat on the closest couch on the porch with furrowed eyebrows.

john b followed him, an amused expression on his face. jj noticed this, raising his eyebrows at the boy. “what’s so funny?”

he shook his head, his curls falling slightly to his side as he looked at jj. “when’s the last time you acted this way towards a girl?”

“oh, don’t start, jb.”

“i’m sorry, okay? look, you don’t need to be thinking this hard, man, alright?” the boy chuckled, patting his friend firmly on the back. “yn’s a good person, i can tell, and…” john b looked around as if anyone else but the two of them were around. he leaned closer towards jj, who didn’t think twice to do the same.

“from what i’ve read from sar’s phone, yn’s just crazy for you.”

this changed jj’s solemn expression into a mixture of lovesick, curiosity, and excitement. “i mean, that’s natural, right? she agreed to be my girlfriend so it’s natural for her to like me.” his words sounded defensive which made john b’s eyebrows rose.

“what i’m trying to say, jj, you don’t have to freak out just because you don’t know who’s around her. long distance is weird, i agree, but are you going to be like this every time she hangs out with people you don’t know?”

jj lowered his eyes, a tiny wave of shame washing over him. “no.”

“right, and i’m not trying to say don’t be jealous— you can’t help it, you like the girl,” john b held one of the blonde’s shoulder. “and if i were to give you an advice, man to man, thinking in your shoes, if you find long distance so much, why don’t you do something about it?”

jj looked up at john b, confusion etched all over his face. “what are you—“ and as if something clicked in his mind, john b nodded, confirming his thoughts. “isn’t it too soon?”

“what’s too soon?” both boys visibly flinched as pope made his presence known, beer bottles in hand. “i had to swipe this from my dad’s stack so you guys better fill me in.”

you couldn’t help the smile at john b’s story, giving it a heart as scrolled off the app. you would send a response, something about not leaving him in the streets because you guys still have a game session planned tomorrow, but you decided not to.

they were probably still at the boneyard, a place where they usually throw their parties as you’ve learned previously from jj, and they’ve shared enough stories about those to let you know those parties don’t end easily.

you sighed, sliding further into your bed as you hugged your pillow. was it silly to feel the way you do now?

you aren’t ready to fly out to see the boy you’ve been dying to see, but you want to, and you tell yourself you’re okay seeing them have fun, but as you stare deeper into your bedroom wall, you’re beginning to doubt that.

you took a deep breath, closing your eyes in an attempt to sleep and brush off your thoughts, but as soon as you do, your phone rang beside you. you moved the pillow and raised your phone, seeing jj’s profile picture and username across your screen.

jj was calling you.

you sat up, answering the phone, and placed it on your ear. loud music greeted your first, along with voices you’re not familiar with.

“—you can’t just leave her like that, jayj!” a girl harshly whispered against the speaker and it made you think she was either kiara, cleo, or sarah.

“hello?” you finally spoke, and when you did, everyone on the other side seemed to quiet down. you heard some kind of harsh slap, along with a small ‘ow!’. you didn’t recognize the rest of the voice before, but you were definitely aware someone had slapped jj.

“jj? you there?” you called once more, tone lighter in amusement. “i’m gonna hang up on you if you don’t talk.”

that seemed to catch the boy’s attention as he began sputtering away. “no, no, don’t, hello! look, i’m sorry, i’m being peer pressed right now—“

“don’t say that!” a deeper voice interrupted him.

“—and i just wanted to hear your voice…” from the way jj was talking, you could tell he was drunk, though you did believe that slap before sobered him up a bit. “i missed you, yn.”

“it’s only been a day a whole, jj,” you chuckled, leaning against your pillows. despite your answer, you couldn’t help but feel the same way. “but i missed you too, jay.”

“i’ve been building up the courage to call you all night and, i don’t know, i just wanted to hear from you before my lights go out,” jj laughed at his own words, a drunken expression all over his face you imagined.

“build up the courage? i’m your girlfriend, jay, you could call me whenever you want.” you answered, a small smile on your face.

there was a beat of silence from him and you thought it was a sign that he’s close to getting conked out, but his next words proved otherwise.

“can you say that again?” he whispered, almost like he’s hiding, which was most likely from his eavesdropping friends. “about the girlfriend thing, please?”

you hummed a playful tone, the instinct to tease jj was strong and it almost won if it weren’t the way your cheeks heated up at his voice, the way he sounded so soft and near the phone as if he was saying it directly in your ear.

“i’m your girlfriend, jj maybank. you happy?” you had to roll your eyes despite no one being with you hearing your sappy voice and attitude, anything to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay.

“so happy, you don’t even know, baby,” the nickname came to you as a shock, but it didn’t felt wring hearing it from jj. if anything, you wanted to make him say it again. “i’m just so— oh my god, so happy. i’m your boyfriend, you’re my girlfriend— oh, bliss!”

you couldn’t help the laugh that bursted from you as jj’s voice doubled in volume. “i have a girlfriend! and she really likes me!” jj’s speaker managed to get the sound of what sounded like a crowd cheering at his embarrassing announcement, making you chuckle even further.

“alright, hands off the phone, okay— john b, take him, please? before he announces more details about yn?” another voice took over the call, and by the way the boy, who you now know is john b, responded with a ‘yes, ma’am’, you assumed it was sarah who came to the rescue.

“hey, sarah,” you greeted her. “having fun?”

“oh, we are, but no so much for jj tomorrow.”

“i can imagine, you’d think he’ll be able to live with that?” you joked.

“babe, he has no choice,” sarah responded with a laugh. “but for now, john b’s taking him back to the château to properly conk out.”

“that’s good to hear.”

“so,” she started and you already picked up the teasing tone in her voice.

“so?” you chuckled, amused at her.

“still unsure of visiting your hopeless boyfriend? was his very public and loud declaration of love for you enough?”

you hugged the nearest pillow, a warm smile spreading across your face. you felt a lot more at ease and mind solely focused on jj. “it’s enough.”

thoroughfare taglist: @yumwhy @beeskisses @callieyanderechan @udpoota @vivian-555 @popesbby @whatisoutside @roryology @readinghoes @mytimeiswaiting @marleymarleymarleymarley @urmotherlvr @fruitcakerafe @bobobellabo @max23b @mirellef2001 @bearbear21 @cassiewritessalot @baocean @ayy1234567 @lmaowhatt @scaroooos @mbella607 @dylsdaily @1mcrazybutcute

big apologies to the peeps that wanted to be tagged but aren’t here cuz i might’ve missed yall bc and for the people that are written on here but weren’t notified pls refer to this post :)

[chdarling]

As we’re getting closer to a truly awful day for America, I just wanted to check in on you. Things are bleak and about to get so so much worse, I want you to know I’m here and many others are here too when you’re ready

This is very kind of you, thank you. Honestly, I have not been doing great. Watching my neighbors elect a racist, fascist, Nazi-loving rapist triggered a pretty bad depressive episode on top of what was already the worst period of professional and creative burnout of my life, so….I’m struggling. Still trying to claw my way out of the dark. I’m deeply appreciative of the kindness of this community and am sorry that I haven’t (and probably won’t for a little longer) been able to engage the way I once did. I will again one day, and I am so thankful to know all you wonderful people online. <3

On a note that is completely unrelated to this gentle ask, I’ve been getting a ton of messages lately asking for a date when TLE3 is coming out and I don’t feel up to answering them (sorry) so I’m just going to tack this on here since I buried my last post on the subject under a mountain of despair reblogs: TLE3 is going to take a while.

I’m still planning to continue with my writing projects (be they TLE or other things), but right now I’m focusing on securing my own oxygen mask, etc. When I finished posting TLE2, I said that I would be taking a break and also that I would not be posting TLE3 until I had written all of it (like I had for TLE1). Even if I had been writing diligently every single day since I posted the last chapter, I still wouldn’t be done, so please understand that it’s going to take a while. It certainly will not be coming in the next 6 months, very possibly not in 2025. I know some people won’t be happy to hear that, but just a fun statistic: OOTP has 257,045 words and took three years to write/publish after GOF. TLE2 has (and this makes me cringe a little) 407,079 words and took roughly 3 years to write as an unpaid side hobby on top of full time work, education, etc. I don’t say this to toot my own horn (frankly, it just makes me desperately want to retroactively edit the crap out of TLE2 lol), but rather to reiterate that writing a book-length work takes a lot of time, energy, and love. I don’t want it to take 3 years (and I don’t think it will, TLE3 will be a more reasonable length), but it’s certainly not going to be finished in a few months. That would be insanity and I am not that talented lmao.

I do know that the requests for updates come from a place of love and enthusiasm and excitement and I really, truly appreciate that. I also appreciate all of the kind words of the asks I haven’t been answering. Please know that I’ve read them, I love you, and I will be back eventually. I just have to focus on my health right now, and unfortunately these days being online is pretty bad for that, so I'm going to try to be logged off for a while.

And finally, on another completely unrelated but perhaps mildly tangential note: if anyone has any books recommendations or resources on processing climate grief, I, uh, could use them. 🫠

[drdemonprince]

Gender liberation, in the end, is not a war between the good group and the bad. It is a collective struggle against the laws, cultural norms, social rules, and institutional policies that restrict all people, and uses rigid gendered categories to keep us so restricted. 

I think if we are going to be able to move forward in this fight, trans men must abandon the notion that other men are fundamentally the “bad” gender — and that we don’t belong to that category because of our transness. We must embrace manhood as a state of both strength and profound lostness, an immense liability as much as it is a source of gender euphoric joy, and see the frustrated wanderings of other marginalized masculine people as of a piece with our own. 

And so, in the interest of helping us all find our way to each other, here are some of the major struggles that trans men and cis men have in common: 

Gender Dysphoria 

Many people believe the experience of having gender dysphoria is something like having a phantom limb, or seeing the wrong image in the mirror, but that’s rarely true. 

For a lot of trans people, gender dysphoria feels more like a maddening insecurity about how we look and how we are being perceived that seems to know no satisfaction, a mental itching that wanders all across our bodies, our faces, down our throats, across our hairlines, and even all over our clothes. It’s the uncertain sense we are not being ourselves correctly, an out-of-placeness that makes our very being feel like it has no right to exist.

Gender dysphoria is not caused by having the “wrong” gendered brain for one’s body (the notion of “male” and “female” brains is a myth), nor is it a mental illness afflicting only trans people. Rather, gender dysphoria is a pretty sensible trauma response to society’s unrelenting and coercive gendering. All people are categorized as a gender, assigned rules, and threatened with becoming less of a person should they fail to measure up. This means that even cisgender people can experience the terror of feeling that they’ve failed to enact their gender correctly and make themselves socially acceptable— a sensation that often gets called “gender dysphoria.” 

I think I first realized that cis people could be gender dysphoric when the actress Amanda Bynes revealed she had tumbled into a major depressive episode after watching herself portray a male character in the comedy She’s the Man. The disturbance she felt from watching herself enact the “wrong” gender sounded exactly like how I felt back when I looked in the mirror at myself as a “woman.” 

In 2019, when Jason Derulo complained about his bulge being removed with CGI for his role in the film Cats, I was reminded once again that cis people can feel utterly, dysphorically wrong in their bodies or how they are perceived. Each year, millions of cis people spend thousands of dollars on breast augmentations, jaw implants, hair plugs, and leg-lengthening surgeries, at least in part for gender dysphoric reasons, and if you’ve worn both male and female clothing before, you’ve likely recognized how much of the tailoring of garments is done to deliberately accentuate or even manufacture the gendered features of a person’s shape. 

Cis people feel ill-at-ease in their bodies, and fail to measure up to gender normative standards too. That’s how artificially constructed and harshly enforced these standards really are.

In recent years, I’ve spent a good amount of time in gay male bathhouses. When I reveal this fact, even to other gay men, I’m sometimes met with confessions of deep bodily insecurity. The idea of being nude in a highly gendered sexual marketplace often causes people’s worst gendered fears to bubble up. 

“I could never go to a place like that,” one cis gay man in his forties confessed to me. “My dick is too small. Nobody would ever want to look at me.” 

“I wouldn’t fit in there,” said another cis man, a short, effeminate type with long flowing hair. “They might think I was a girl and kick me out or harass me.” 

These men knew, of course, that I don’t have a penis, and can be mistaken for a woman from some angles. And I had just told each of them I’d never had any problem visiting the sauna. Yet they couldn’t shake the sense that I was doing manhood correctly enough, and they were somehow doing it wrong. Despite ostensibly being “cis,” they weren’t quite sure that manhood as a category could hold them as they really were — not when they were nude and vulnerable, surrounded by their idea of the proper man. 

Of course, having been in these spaces frequently, I could have told them that nobody there is the “proper” kind of man at all. There’s just regular human beings in there — with sunken chests, stretch marks, amputated limbs, multi-layered bellies, rounded backs, tiny hands, and eye patches. 

Over the years, cis men have shared dozens of gender dysphoric insecurities with me, about everything from the width of their shoulders to the length of their eyelashes to the way they hold a can of beer. And in some of the sections below, we will explore more specific examples, because these sources of dysphoria mirror trans men’s almost exactly. But it’s important to establish first that the major commonality across both groups of men is our fear we’re not being men correctly at all. 

Every man, I believe, grapples with the disjoint between their actual, complex human selves and the strong, built, stoic, powerful, masculine image that has been pushed upon us. And we fear living up to that standard because the consequences of that failure can be so harsh — these norms are quite violently imposed. 

Failing to be a man, in some sense, is what being a man actually means. We are united in the precarity of our position, as powerful as it is. A man in a tank-top with a bald spot sitting beside a lush pond. Photo by Beth Macdonald on Unsplash

Hair Insecurities 

“I wish I could grow a full beard so that I could pass better,” says Topher, a trans guy with long hair in his mid-twenties. “But I’m realizing that cis men with long hair get misgendered often too.” 

Dunmer, a bisexual trans guy, echoes this experience. “In this one chemistry class a few years ago, both me and this cis guy got called ma’am by a professor. I’m a rather effeminate/androgynous dude, but I have prominent facial hair. And the other guy who got misgendered was pretty masculine, but had long hair and was clean shaven. We both just kinda looked at each other and shrugged after it happened.” 

I’ve found that numerous cis and trans men harbor deep insecurities about their hair — where it’s growing, where it doesn’t, how it looks on their bodies, and where they might be losing it. It may sound like a frivolous subject at first blush, but hair is integral to gendered perceptions, as well as how others view our sexual attractiveness, race, and age. 

Trans men worry frequently about potential hair loss on T for more aesthetic reasons. I’ve known numerous trans masculine people who have avoided starting hormones because they’ve feared eventually going bald and becoming “less attractive.” And in this we aren’t alone, as 52 billion dollars gets spent each year (by people of all genders) on hair loss prevention treatments. 

“It’s helped me to realize that cis men are also scared of going bald,” says Topher. “When I worry about something gender-wise, I ask myself if cis men deal with what I deal with, and it’s helped me settle into my identity more.” 

Cis and trans men also share complicated feelings about body hair. Though being covered in a dark blanket of fuzz certainly reads as “masculine,” male beauty standards for the last several decades have eschewed hairiness in favor of a the glistening, action-figure-y look. Trans and cis men alike often fear that hair sprouting on their backs will make them unattractive, or that growing a “neckbeard” will be seen as slovenly. And it’s no coincidence that hairiness has often been linked with fatness and being racialized in many people’s minds — the uncontrolled proliferation of hair is often cast as animalistic, unclean, disgusting, less than human. 

But some men have sought refuge from such punishing standards within the gay Bear community. 

“I have never felt more welcomed in my masculinity than I have around other bears,” says Kody, a trans male bear. “I’m literally growing in my manhood — getting bigger, hairier, louder, taking up more space. While being really soft and tender too.” 

I wrote about the many struggles that unite trans and cis men, and how a deep appreciation for our commonalities is essential to the fight for gender liberation. You can read the full piece for free, or have it narrated to you by the Substack app, at drdevonprice.substack.com.

[xxxstraightfromtheheartxxx]

Read my tags first, ran out of space.

Note: I change my mind a few times throughout this text post, what I began with is not entirely what I ended with. And I’m not even sure of the ‘conclusion’ I got to. However I’m too tired to try and figure the rest out about it right now. Might change this post later when I have made up my mind or got more questions about it. Heads up! Spelling- and other mistakes in writing, were made. Frequently.

I know my tags make me a hypocrite and that’s one of the judgemental thought processes I’ve been fighting/growing against most for a while now.

I expect people to think similarly to me about this and that’s not within my right, they don’t owe me anything for the choice I decided to make and put the hard work in for. That I’ve suffered for it and for the patience I’ve had to bring up towards others being judgemental and having prejudices they didn’t fight within themselves. The frustration I keep feeling every time I have to explain to other adults how to respect accept and see minorities or marginalised groups as equal in worth to themselves. It’s so tiring, and I’m just white, I can’t imagine what it must be like to try and have these conversations to protect yourself and your family and friends and loved ones over and over again whilst still experiencing racist comments assumptions treatment behaviour bullying exclusion exploitation… through systemic racism, racist communities,through so many facets of their lives.

I feel like I’ve been shouting for equality. Not sure if that’s the best most respectful word for it in english, in my language literally translated our word means ‘equally worthy”. And to me that means that from birth we should all be treated with the same amount of respect love and acceptance. It’s only society, nurture that causes this inequality to exist, that not only allows but encourages prejudices and othering for power. Shouting at people who seemingly just refuse to open their eyes, minds and hearts and keep humanity from growing into healthier behavioural patterns in the future. They refuses to put in more effort to try our best to avoid wars, make the idea of hurting another person out of anything other than self defence, be heavily rejected, punished. Instead of not saving each other out of fear for economic and political threats to our own habitants and countries. To be unified so firmly by the absolute belief that violence is wrong, that those fears wouldn’t even be an issue because we’re all know all the other countries will still have our backs and we’d be able to function without the country that’s trying to start or continue a war, while only having to put in mild effort to be entirely independent from the threatening county, as humanity instead of as “individual countries”. It would cut the county/group at war of their resources entirely, which would endanger them to much to be able to actually be able to hold out being at war and making an actual big difference in the big picture of our common humanity. I know there are many weapons that could destroy so many at the same time, yet they would be poisoning the ground they so gladly wish to live on. (Ofcourse this is an ideal that is almost utopian).

This is the goal I thought we were all collectively working towards throughout our entire lives. To eventually be able to all come together in the far away future. All of the warmhearted people in the world.

And therefore we have to start within our small circle of influence and be open to try and learn to understand and respect each other with our differences and similarities, To expect people to be good and ourselves to put effort in it.

However completely swerved away from my original point. But it is the root of that frustration, hurt, disappointment and envy I experience when I see or hear or feel negative judgement .

People have been calling me stern and too strict and rigid in thought more in the last 4 years. It’s because I’ve been responding to prejudices and discriminatory behaviour and ideas verbally, and I have to admit about 50% of the time quite hard, not disrespectful, but clear. I’ve been setting boundaries over what way there can be spoken about others and myself with me. This week I even threatened to leave the room and wouldn’t continue conversing with them if they didn’t then stop casually using the n-word, while knowing it is wrong and hurtful and what my opinion and feeling was towards it. They called my stern and frowned and sighed but at least could bring it up not to say it with me around anymore. I know I haven’t changed their behaviour without my presence this way and it saddens me to feel them rejecting that part of myself that’s at the core of me. My moral core believe of equality.

When people won’t widen their view for one minority it makes me feel unsafe as part of multiple other minorities. I’m a queer womxn with persistent mental health issues, who isn’t able to work because of it and I’m neurodivergent and have some invisible fysical issues (I have loads of allergies which used to give me big rashes of eczema in my envoys and knees and later hands and feet, it has improved a lot, the amount of allergies keeps expanding though) ( I have a very small amount of energy compared to most people my age because of having to put in too much effort as a child and teen) to take care of others and secretly fighting feelings of depression). I’m lucky to be middle-class, white and have affordable healthcare here. All of these other aspects have made life harder for me throughout my entire life. Yet others have mostly blamed me and pestered me, excluded and avoided me for my inabilities and difference, including the inability to l love men.

It feels unfair that I try so hard to be accepting, understand and respectful of others, and not get the same amount of effort and care back… which is hypocrite of me, because the people I want to make the biggest changes never asked me to do all that. And while their lives are often so much easier specifically on the those societal aspects, does that make them owe me that effort back?

I feel like yes, they should, because they have more space for it, for questioning their prejudices than us. Because of the privileges of the main beliefs in their society, they didn’t have to lift a finger for throughout their entire lives. For all of the freedom and respect they’ve just got thrown in their laps, that took up so much of our lives for us to assemble a resemblance to their quality of life.

(Many people who have to fight for their lives daily, do not have that time or space so they only get to grow slower and are part of minority or marginalised groups as well. Bc evidently their is a lot of prejudice within those groups towards the other groups who are also being pressed down.)

I don’t know if I still think it’s hypocrite of me to expect people to put effort in being good. I don’t think so. The length they are able to go through to make those improvements however, I should bare in mind stronger again, like I used to.

If I give up on following my moral compass on this, I’ll never be the person I hope to be one day. I do feel like I deserve to give myself a break and be forgiving about those negative thoughts because they come from a desire for righteousness and good. Recognise, reject, correct, forgive and trust that I’ll do better next time because it is what I truly want to in the long run. I show myself to not always respond and to better pick my battles, so I can persevere and rebuild my energy for when I can make a bigger impact In the braided context or my own. However when I notice bad behaviour or judgement towards others, I do use little parts of it to give them a correcting look or to speak up for someone else or recently even for myself.

Totally did not see this rant coming!!

I knew this theme has been more at the front of my mind again recently and that I’ve been prickly about it, yet I hasn’t reflected on its origin as deeply as I did just now. So here, little amount of people this will reach, have some personal information from my brain and my heart.

.

I’ve been typing this for so long and my attention span has loosened throughout writing. I don’t supposes I’ve managed to make everything clear, I got more and more tired and created some weird sentence structures and maybe grammar and def phrasing to try to get my point through or at least comprehended.

Don’t come at me about the war part, I know it is unrealistic to achieve anything like that in our lifetimes.

Yet I’m holding onto this dream for dear life. Otherwise what is there? To grow towards, to live for? It all comes to recognising, appreciating, sharing and maintaining the good there is now and nurturing the good to come.

The way you change your immediate reactions to things is that you catch yourself having an uncharitable/bigoted/overly judgmental thought and you catch it and replace it and then you do that a hundred times a day for your whole life and eventually one day like five years later you realize that you think differently now and you’ll always be working on something but that’s how life goes and that’s fine.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Wrapped In Wicked Romance Part III:

Nica Schwartz - Premium END

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

Startled from the scream, I turned around and found the woman we spoke to earlier stabbing a man.

Kate: What…..

Thin Woman: Yours - IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!

Thin Woman: UWAAARRHAAAHH!!

The blade of the knife repeatedly stabbed him, and his hand that had been resisting fell to the ground.

Kate: !

Male Passerby: Someone call for a doctor!

The woman straddling the man starts laughing, as a pool of blood fans out across the ground-

Thin Woman: Yes, I did it!

Thin Woman: Now, I’m free!

(Free…..)

Those familiar words are the ones Nica told the woman not long ago,

And when I suddenly looked up, there was a faint smile on his face.

Kate: Nica…?

Thin Woman: It’ll be heavenly not having to watch you buy and bring home multitudes of women to live with us, over and over and over again!

Thin Woman: That’s right, where is that person?!

The yelling woman turned her gaze towards me.

Frightened by her wide opened eyes, I instinctively took a step back-

Nica: …..Humans really are foolish.

That sounds a bit like Dari's influence.

The muttered words reached only my ears.

Meanwhile, the woman who had thrown away the knife approached us,

But when the Yard rushed over and stopped her, she shouted at Nica.

Meaning Scotland Yard.

Thin Woman: See, I’m free now!

Thin Woman: So, choose me over that girl!

It was clear that she lost her mind, and Nica moved in front to shield me.

Kate: Nica.

Then he approached her and grasped her hands tightly.

Nica: No matter how free you are, she’s my girlfriend.

Nica: I don’t plan to be with any other woman, and actually, I’ve only talked to you once.

The moment he let go of her hands, she started to tremble in shock.

Nica: Auf Wiedersehen. [See ya]. I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again though-

Quick note: While Auf Wiedersehen can simply mean “goodbye,” depending on the context. Apparently, it can also mean the hope or intention of seeing one again. Auf - it seems is some kind of intention or hope. Wiedersehen - the act of seeing each other again. At least that’s what I found out researching it, and confirming with some moots. What a cold thing for Nica to say to her.

He gave her an icy look, wrapped his arm around my waist, and we walked away.

Thin Woman: W-why am I doing this?

Thin Woman: NOOOOOOO!!

Nica: Don’t look.

As we drew closer together, we moved further away from the echoes behind us,

They were the screams of a grieved woman, much different than before.

Removed from the hustle and bustle of the nighttime city,

Nica: Maaan, that was such a great date, but we ended up wasting time on needless stuff.

My heart’s still in clamoring so loudly.

Nica: That was scary, I never thought she’d kill someone, I was shocked.

Kate: ….You used your ability didn’t you?

Nica: What?

He stopped walking with a puzzled look on his face.

Kate: Didn’t you use your powers to mesmerize that woman into murdering him?

Even though my voice quivered, I had to ask.

(Nica’s ability is to charm people, and the activation requirement is to hold someone’s hand.)

(At that time, Nica held that woman’s hand and told her to be brave.)

After that, I saw her killing that man like she’d become someone completely different, only for her to return to her senses when he held her hand again,

Kate: I can’t imagine such a change unless your ability was used.

This was more than enough of a reason to think he used his power.

Silenced reigned between us, only the sound of the flowing river met my ears.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed, but the atmosphere was stifling until he sighed,

Nica: …..So what if I told you I did use it?

Kate: I.…

Nica: There’s still no proof that I used it, and she’s the one who killed her husband.

Nica: I didn’t tell her to kill him.

Nica: Well, it’s true there was some pretty dirty rumors, but

I’m speechless at seeing how calm he is.

Nica: He got killed because of a grudge.

Nica: I’ve got nothing to do with that.

(This guy…)

A chill made my heart grew cold as he acted like that person deserved to be killed.

(Just why….)

I had fun with him today, he’s such a great guy, and I felt happy spending time with him.

I didn’t even realize.

(I didn’t understand the realities of Vogel.)

Like Crown who condemns evil with evil,

Perhaps Nica, who belongs to Vogel, may also be someone on the side of evil.

Nica: Hey, robin. Is it my fault?

Kate: I don’t if it’s your fault or not,

Kate: But, if you really did use your ability….

Kate: I’ll despise you for turning that woman into a murderer, when she shouldn’t have been a murderer.

Nica: ….Ha.

His mocking smile returned, and though it scared me, I kept staring at him without hesitation.

Nica: You’re as interesting a girl as ever.

Step by step, he approached me, and before I knew it, I’d been backed against the railing.

Nica: But, this is a problem. I don’t want to be hated by you.

Nica: Because right now, I really want you to fall for me.

Kate: [Gasp] !

He suddenly grabbed my chin and lifted it up.

Our lips were close enough to touch, and I gasp at his sensual scent tickling my nose.

His indigo-blue eyes locked with mine, and narrowed suspiciously,

Nica: Hey, how about -

A smooth voice whispers, like it was toying with my heart to sway it.

Nica: - We really date?

(Oh, perhaps I can’t turn back.)

— What bloomed in the night, was a white flower of evil.

[Master List] [Epilogue]

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @drachonia

If you are 18+ and wish to be added to my tags list, please comment below specifying the IkeVil suitor, or for all translations.

[tanzabee]

you’re all gonna die 🤯 the worlds gonna end😵 you’ll be pleading for mercyyy😔 you’ll be bleeding and burning 🔥 up🙁 you’re all gonna die 💀 and your grandma 👵will die in her bed!🛌 everything living 🌹 will cease to be living 🥀 instᵉᵃd!! 😢But first it’s a 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓵🤩 it’s 𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓵🌌 we’ve all been 𝓹𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓰 😵‍💫 we’re so 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓭 ough 🤡sorry!😿 you’re in for a musical: for it just begaaaan😎 it’s like Armageddon 💥 had a child 👶 by the music maaaan 🫃your wife and your kids 🗣️ they’re not feeling well 🤢 because theyre ✋ melted in puddles 🫠 on the ground 🤯burnt bits of baby strewn around 🚼 the worlds gonna end 🍃 definitely you will die!🪦 watch as your life 👼 flashes before your eyes 👀 we’ll still be singing 🎵 and dancing 💃 and having a ball ⚽️ we’ve got drama 🎭 and tension 😬 and asteroids 😍 emotion 😯 adventure 🤠 we’ve got it 𝓐𝓛𝓛👻 and you can watch it every single night 🌕 because it’s a musical 🎤 on your computer screeeen…💻 it’s time to begin let’s cut to the titular sceneeeee!!! 😹 MR PRESIDENT🗣️ there is an asteroid headed DIRECTLY…. for the earth 😱😱😱😱😱 at the club!💃 beautiful women who don’t have a daaaate 😳 hello😏 at the club!💃 their standards get lower the longer you waiiittt 😬 hello again😏 music is blaring 📢 so no conversation 😶 passion is flaring 💗 without hesitation 😮 pressed up so close there’s a general genital rubbbb 😍 at the club!!!💃💃💃💃😶 sighing 😮‍💨 staring 👁️👁️ lately I have stopped caring! 🛑 I’m stuck in a rut 😕 waiting for something to come 😔 don’t wanna bore you 🥺 feeling sappy 🌳 but I find it hard to be happy!! 😁 I’m not out having fun 🏃‍♂️ I’m waiting for something 😣 to come 😨 best case scenario 😢 my job is totally pointless 😑 I’ve spent my life looking 👀 up ⬆️ there’s nothing to see 🙁 nothing to seeeeeee🧍‍♂️worst case scenario 😢 some giant death rock 🪨 is flying through space 👽 to destroy Us! 😱 either way🙏 it’s not a good outlook for meeeee 😩 so I’m getting listless 🙋‍♂️ with the skylife 😳 something’s missing from my life! 🧢 my hearts going numb 💔 waiting for something to c🛵💥🛵💥🛵 oh my gosh are you okay??? 😨 actually yeah I think I am😍➡️👔🔵 uh ok🛵💨 ,😮😲😮😮‍💨😲😮 (whistling solo) 😮😲😲😮‍💨 something is coming 😀 I maintain 😝 all of this waiting🥳’s not in vain😌 I’ll keep on waiting 🥲 till something comes 🥸 or maybe I’m waiting for some one 🙂 maybe I’m waiting for some one🙂 maybe I’m waiting for some one 🙂 sorry 😞😞😞😞 at the club🤫 I bought you a drink 🥃 but you gave it away 😭 at the club🤫 you laughed in my face 🤣 said you thought I was gay🏳️‍🌈!! 😭 no booty tapping 👆 no make out sesh 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 nobody wants to be rubbing rajesh 🥺 even my sister jayanthi 🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒 gave me a snubbb😩 surprise it’s 𝓾𝓼 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷!!! 🤩 what the fuck!😱 those people from 𝓫𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮💃 surprise!! 😎we’re here to say goodbye 👋 and sing 🎤 to you 🫵once more 😜 hello 😏 we hope that you enjoyed part 1 we truly 𝓭𝓸🫀but if you didn’t🤨 you’re gonna really hate 😡 part 2! 🌈🏝️ at the club!! 💃💃💃💃

[ryomaandgundhamkin]

no. just wanted to say a few things though.

realized i was asexual this year, ~the beginning of the school year, probably. lots of my friends had their sexualities and genders scrambled around and i didn’t understand a bit of it (now they kind of brag about their sexualities and fake genders… idk why). i was honestly so clueless because i was so used to it but now that im looking back, in the entire time i’ve lived, i have not liked anyone at all or had any sexual OR romantic feelings. and when my friends say things like “oh man i really like [gender]s i wanna do [romantical/sexual/explicit] things with/to them” i do not get it. i honestly find most of those activities or actions that are romantic/sexual kind of weird/disgusting. but then again i am a huge slut so like some of those things i actually would probably enjoy (im doomed, aren’t i.), but like, that’s it about those things. also, i have never felt ANY sexual/romantical attraction. people are always like “omg like whenever im in love my heart beats fast and i feel like this and that and yeah” LIKE BRO wtf are you talking about, that feeling is totally foreign to me. also i haven’t had any crushes at all and i hate when people ask me if i have any because no matter what, my answer will be NO. and if you don’t believe me then i will hate you for the rest of my life even if i explain. to be honest, i’ve had no character crushes or celebrity crushes at all. mostly because i know like no celebrities and… ill just tell a little secret for my moots. i don’t even truly like/love characters i say i do, ex painter, even if i say i do. i’m just over exaggerating as if i did because yes, they are super cool to me and amazing, and that’s basically the most amount of feelings you are going to be able to shake out of me. if you ask me, no, i will not love you romantically or sexually, but yes, i will respect you and think you are cool. hope that made sense. I don’t understand romantic/sexual attraction one bit, prolly because i’m younger. like very. yk. SO yeah, that’s it, i’ll reblog or edit if i have to.

this is very much not the stuff I usually post but I just wanted to say that I partly found out I was asexual because when I was in middle-school our sex ed teacher told us we would grow up and have sexual relationships "whether we liked it or not" (horrible wording) and younger me took that as meaning I would be forced into it.

So I obsessively made up possible future excuses in my head to get out of sleeping with someone, and most of them revolved around joining a religion where I would be required to take a vow of chastity (I didn't know what I was talking about), so that I never had to be sexual with anyone (I was not religious and was also like 10 years old) uhhhh

anyways, I found out later that I could just not lol

I wonder if any other aces have had similar sorts of things happen??

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Cold Moon in Gemini ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Hello cute people~☃️ Happy holidays!~🎄✨🕊 Have you felt freer lately? We had a Full Cold Moon in Gemini on 15 December. Ruled by Mercury, Gemini's whole consciousness revolves around Intellect; and for some reason, I’ve always felt that the Gemini aenergy is also pure sunshine like it’s literally so bright and cheerful🍳 Perhaps it exudes from a passion for learning? Being the ‘toddler’ of the zodiac, Gemini is naturally carefree and curious about Life. Gemini wants to know all the trivial details of the world~📑

Although it's cold now, on some parts of the world, this Gemini FM aenergy is motivating us to get curious, get studying, get absolutely learning, about every little thing that piques our interest. Since you’re a spiritual one, I’m sure you sometimes get intuitive nudges for certain topics of study that you can easily google or youtube in this digital era. Ain’t that welcome?📚 This Full Cold Moon in Gemini, basically you're invited to just take it easy~♪

Relaaax, the real New Year is still ways ahead anyway😉

Study whatever you like when you want to, work as much or as little as it is sensible to you, and just… Know that you are safe now. This season, this coming year, it would be very sensible to get to know more about nutrition and the human body if you care enough. You can also discover real history and so much more. Basically, it’s time to celebrate Life itself, you celebrity!~★

To fall in love with Life all over again—because it’s good to be alive, to be breathing. For as long as your heart’s still beating, there’s still so much to be hopeful for~♡ Here's to a wonderful 2025~♦︎

ethics: Episode 3: L'Oreal Group on TRT World

documentary: How L’Oreal Poisoned the World on Jake Tran

deck-bottom: XIII The Death Rx, Gold Geographer (John Dee), Priestess of Inspiration

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Sweet Love, Fresh Air, New Land

subliminal: A clear mind makes for a happy soul by lanaes

dream – 2 of Cups Rx

When was the last time you felt safe in a connection? Hmm maybe never? Maybe all of the connections you’d ever made in the past disappointed you in the end? Spiritual narcissists might say it was ‘all on you’ LOL They’d say, you didn’t have a good relationship with yourself, so you naturally manifested disappointing connections with others. It’s very callous to put it that way, right? It’s not like YOU wanted things to go that way!

Who in their right mind would want to sabotage themselves when it comes to having fulfilling romance and friendships? The truth of the matter is, you took on the collective karma of many who didn’t know how to love themselves, because they were born by parents who didn’t know how to love them. You needed to live amongst the ‘peasants’, assume the role of a ‘peasant’, so you know what’s stopping the ‘peasants’ from manifesting wealth for themselves.

In this case, we’re talking a wealth, an abundance of true, soulful Love in our connections with other Humans. The truth of your being, actually, is that the whole time, you’re a ‘spiritual royalty’ who’s already got a mega wealth of Love you can always generate within yourself. Your task in this world is to help ‘teach’ others how they can do the same for themselves~♥︎

detail – Page of Wands Rx

This section is supposed to cover some beneficial habits and routines that can amplify your wellbeing this FM season, but it looks to me like this Pile, if anything, has done a shit ton of spiritual rehabilitation! XD If anything, you’ve done so much self-healing and self-soothing; you’ve done so much inner work on yourself, for yourself; you’ve isolated yourself from the world outside to keep you safe, to keep your aenergy pure. What else can I add to this? Hahah

So, what the Page of Wands in reverse is saying, is basically a validation for you to still take your time. Some of you tuning into this may just feel like nothing’s been changing at all in your physical Reality—you may feel like maybe your train or aeroplane is never gonna come to pick you up. Not the case at all. The train ain’t even late. The train is just still being built!! LMAO

Once it arrives though, the way it carries you towards your Destiny, you’re gonna be SHOOK to see how fast, how exciting, how luxury everything is! Think of your train or aeroplane as a luxury Patek Philippe watch—it can take years, even decades, for some pieces to finish being made!! Maybe now’s still just time for you to refine and develop your senses, so that when all of that luxury and spotlight become yours, you wouldn’t be cringe LMAOMFG

You know, new-money kinda cringe? You ain’t supposed to be like that XDD

digital – 8 of Cups

Finally! This has been a long time coming, but you’re totally moving away, inching ever closer to your Highest Destiny in the coming year. I’ve a feeling, especially if this is your main Pile, that you’ve heard this numerous times through other readings for yeaarrsss… And the change, the move, the luxury never quite was there? Or even when some changes were felt, they were so small and insignificant you found it hard to even appreciate them?

I know. The spirit of delay, right? I feel that you were only still battling the last remnants of the karmic bullshit you had taken on. But 2025 is different for so many Lightworkers and Starseeds, or anybody who’s been hard at work on their spiritual transmutation~♥︎

Between 2025 and 2026 (exactly within this time frame!) the change of scenery, the move, the travel that you’ve been known is meant for your Highest Intended Good will be manifest. There’s nothing else I need to say. Enjoy, my dear~ You’ve sacrificed, and survived, a lot for this~\`★_★`/

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Green Geographer (Gerardus Mercator) & Priestess of Luxury

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Total Reclamation of What Made You Divine~

subliminal: mathematical pursuits by lanaes

dream – 10 of Pentacles Rx

Oh my gosh, look at you! You’ve been dealing with a horrendous level of stress that’s caused you extreme exhaustion and prolonged fatigue. It seems either you’ve been sick throughout the holiday season or you’ve simply not been able to be as productive as you’d planned. It’s all for your good, honey. The truth of the matter is, your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides made you sick or something like it, so you’d pause for a moment.

Because you’d been surviving, and hustling for survival, you’d forgotten what it felt like to just…live. If you look around, you’re already on safe waters. But your subconscious mind that got used to surviving hasn’t caught on XD In order to make you really see how safe it is now, you had to be sick. And voila, even when you thought you hadn’t been as productive, your basic needs are still met, right? :D There you go. It’s all taken care of now.

This season, all throughout spring, too, is all about you reclaiming every bit and piece of what made you Divine~ The bits and pieces that flew off when you went into survival mode. It’s like… …

detail – XII The Hanged Man Rx

When Sylvester Stallone was fighting tooth and nail for the script for Rocky, he got convicted out of his apartment and eventually felt forced to sell his puppy for $50 (when he had offered $100) to survive on the streets… He sobbed so hard on the way home. But as Destiny would have it, once Rocky became a box office hit, he was able to buy his little pup back for… $15,000!! He even had to fight for it! Whew, it was worth it, he said😊

In order to survive, you had to let go of some ‘aspects of your livelihood’ that were precious and fundamental to your sense of identity. You may resonate with having lost a huge chunk of your youth or life in general. It felt almost like, against your own freewill, you were led to dramatic events that got you feeling like you weren’t even allowed to live…like a normal person! Well, that’s the thing, you Prototype!

You know that you’re a Prototype, right? One of many of us tapping into this Pile right now😉 I saw a meme on Pinterest that perfectly encompasses this idea: ‘When the whole world is collectively going through their Dark Nights of the Soul but YOU have survived a few of your own~’ Exactly.

digital – Knight of Wands Rx

You, are now collecting and reclaiming your little Butkus (Stallone’s pup). All of the things that were important to your sense of identity or wellbeing. They’re all returning to you, bit by bit, maybe. But you’re gaining momentum for a full-life again—but better. You’re not returning to how things used to be! You’re reclaiming all of the small and big things that made you Divine~ TOTAL RECLAMATION OF YOUR DIVINITY.

I’ve a feeling you may resonate with those readings that say: ‘You’re going to be the first millionaire/billionaire in your bloodline!’ If you look at your birth chart, you may get some confirmation on how you’re literally destined for so much prosperity~♥︎

Well, tap into that pool of consciousness! If you’re already rich, do you think you’d be stressed out by survival? Of course not. You are already prosperous as of right now ^o^v It is safe to focus on just one thing at a time. Your time is unlimited! It is safe to work or do anything at a pace that’s sensible to you.

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler) & Priestess of Energy

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Your Sandcastle Turning into Ice Castle

subliminal: revenge of the gifted by lanaes

dream – 3 of Cups

For a while now, you’ve been building a castle on sand. It wasn’t that you were stupid to do so, it was that you didn’t have any other material but sand. You were dealt bad cards in Life and still you did the best you could with what you knew, because you just had to. Because it’s in the nature of you to be building a castle of wonders. Because you made a promise before you were born here. And you were born with so many talents and such intelligence…

Of course you would be disappointed in the peasant Reality you were part of. You couldn’t understand why most people had such low expectations of themselves. If anything, you couldn’t understand why most people viewed themselves so lowly either. You had a regal essence in you since you were a child, and so many people’s ceilings were literally your FLOOR! Your barest minimum is literally the ceiling many people struggle to reach.

So you had to sketch a new Reality from scratch. And you did all of that almost all by yourself. Possibly guided by the inspiration of only your Cosmic Ancestors~♥︎

detail – 4 of Swords Rx

If this is your main pile, it seems you’ve been in some cocoon of isolation, which could’ve caused you a high degree of boredom. Feels like you’ve forever been in a healing/rehab phase but where’s the action? Sometimes you could almost taste the salt of the sea from another dimension! Your time is coming, babe~ All in Divine Timing, or should we say, Divine Alignment.

With this card in reverse, your rest period is literally almost up. Almost, but the world is still shifting frequencies until the world itself matches the Divinity you have to offer it. You’re a special op of a Soul. Everything was strategized and calculated in minute detail for you to serve your Higher Purpose. So, in essence, surprise, surprise, you’re not behind at all~☆

There is a kind of revenge you’re gonna pour unto the world. Like gasoline on the pavement. And when it finally burns… ooohhh…

digital – 6 of Wands Rx

Divine Punishment. A word I’m hearing the loudest. You’re going to swiftly carry some kind of a Divine Punishment for the evils of this world and subsequently liberate those who are innocent. If this has been your main pile, I trust that you know yourself that you’re meant to serve an audience. It’s great that we have the Internet today, right? In this era of Pluto in Aquarius, too.

The Internet is the new playground for enlightenment. Millennials and Gen Zs will resonate with this the loudest, even though plenty of Boomers are obviously also on it. If you jump into some kind of content creation—or whatever else you feel called to—which involves the usage of the Internet, you’re highly protected by the Higher Realms that want to see this world become liberated from the clutches of evil, both organic and digital.

I’m sure Pile 3 is serving a very specific type of Souls who are attracted to this aenergy. Beyond just the notion of an Ascended Master or Lightworker or Starseed… I feel like you belong to a special collective of highly-specialised ops whose name/terminology I’ve not tapped into LMAO

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Gold Physician (Hippocrates) & Priestess of Luck

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

begging anyone for Vi x reader x Ellie

ANYTHING.

PUH LUH EASE

WUH LUH WUH

i’ve got you bestie you just might wanna have that therapist on speed dial, okay? soz… 🫣

death doesn’t discriminate

Vi x reader x Ellie

Summary: you were never jackson’s best fighter, you never had to be. you were of course taught the basics of self defense, and if you ever were being attacked and it was between you or them it had to be you… every single time. you just never expected to ever have to put those skills to use… unfortunately though whenever patrol goes awry and you encountered a group of bandits you had to, making your very first kill. obviously after the event you’re left traumatized, and its up to your girlfriends to pull you from the aftermath.

Contains/TW: takes place in the tlou-verse with arcane crossover characters because obviously, innocent and super sheltered reader, i’ve seen the discourse but i AM making it to where ellie CAN pick the reader up (because fuck you that’s why! 💜), told in 1st person, polyamory, set in jackson post-joel death HOWEVER obviously ellie didn’t decide to hunt down ms. girl again. mentions of murder, blood, and just gore in general and HEAVY implications of suicidal ideation. ((this is not meant to romanticize suicide in any way, i’m writing from my own personal experiences. if you or someone you know is struggling please get help. you are loved 💜)) Heavily based off of the song listed below including its lyrics that are obviously not my own creation but def wish they were 💔

WC: 2.2k

You think at some point you would grow used to death, it was always leering. Either a subtle shadow hanging by the back door or growing to overtake the whole compound. In some cases it was merciful, swiftly ending your pain through broken pleas or just pure exhaustion. But in other cases, and the ones I found to be most common, it was known to be rather violent.

I was surprised I even remembered what to do whenever the time came. A dreaded audition it felt like as I slowly trailed Ellie’s gaze to the switchblade in my back pocket, the cold press of a gun against my temple. I don’t think I even processed what had happened until I was backing away, staring at the dead body before me and the still warm blood now coating my hands. My breathing came out in startled gasps, shrieking in traumatized fear the moment I felt her arms wrapping around me from behind.

“It’s me, baby, it’s just me.” She whispered, taking me into her soothing arms even though I tried like hell to fight her off at first leaving streaks of blood in the shape of my hands against her shirt. She only held my trembling body to her chest as I tried to hold back the sobs.

‘You made one kill. Everyone here has at least made one kill. It shouldn’t affect you this much. You’ve lived your whole life letting other people do the dirty work for you, you should be able to make one kill. One measly little kill of a man who would’ve killed you had you not acted so fast.’ I guess I was the only one left who didn’t think the world was that black and white though.

~

I felt catatonic as we made our way back to Jackson, Ellie’s arms holding most of my weight. I half wanted her to leave me there, leave me there to bleed and be ravaged by whatever found me first. She never would though, even if it did mean she’d have less deadweight.

Vi never was a fan of the two of us going out on patrol without her. She always considered herself our guard dog, even over Ellie who could no doubt hold her own at this point. Many nights we still spent dozing off against her while she whispered to us that we were ‘her girls.’

“Vi, emergency.” I heard Ellie speak, my head a dull weight against her chest as she carried me through the front door.

“This is the last time the two of you go on patrol without me, I mean it this time, Els.” I heard her seething as her heavy boots nearly shook the whole house. “Is she hurt? Are you hurt? What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine but she… she had to-” Ellie held the words back, not wanting to speak them in front of me as I felt my body being placed on one of the old ratty recliners. Dead eyes staring forward, like every ounce of light had been winked out a long time ago.

Vi’s own soft blue eyes drifted downwards to the dry blood coating my still shaking hands, the quickest moment of understanding filling her expression. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” She murmured, the sentiment enough to bring forth a cascade of tears that I had been holding back until we were safely concealed in the walls again. “You did good though, doll, I need you to know that. You did amazing. Remember what we said, if it’s them or you it has to be you every single damn time.”

I sniffled through the ugly sobs with a shake of my head, I disagreed though I suppose I would always disagree. “She should’ve left me out there.” I finally spoke again after I had what felt like the inability to.

Quickly and without hesitation I could feel Ellie’s hand wrapping around my chin, gentle but firm as she turned my head to face her. “No, you aren’t allowed to say things like that.”

“Why not?” I shook my hand, eyes stinging and burning with tears as I watched her kneel in front of me with what looked like a wet washcloth.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” She didn’t answer me, carefully dabbing at my bloodied hands to wash all of the evidence away. Even though part of me wanted it to stay, tattoo the remnants of blood on my hands until I remembered who I was.

“Tell me why you shouldn’t have left me.” My voice shook as I repeated the question. Push until they finally said the truth. Push until they finally agreed to throw me to the wolves. Push and push and push… “I’ve been nothing but deadweight since I got here.”

“No.” Vi almost growled next, wrapping her own larger hand around my chin this time while I only stared back in defiance. “You are not deadweight, you are valuable and needed and- and we need you alive! I need you alive!”

“Darling, you don’t have to be a fighter to be important.” Ellie spoke next, much gentler than Vi had but still stern nonetheless.

It was hard to find a purpose to live in the apocalypse, I wasn’t sure where everyone found one. I knew Ellie had always had some terrible sense of self importance with the immunity. I guess over the years she had tried her hardest to transfer that to me. Some days it worked. Some days were good, amazing even. Gentle and soft days where I could dream about a world before the infection. A world I’m not sure I or Ellie ever remembered. Some days though, days like today, being reminded of that thought really changed things.

Vi had always been an ‘alive out of spite’ kind of person. Then one day Ellie and I rolled up into Jackson and turned her world upside down and shifted things for the better… that’s how she would tell it at least. She was slightly older, tougher, rough around the edges, but deep down I think she was secretly just lonely. She took us underneath her wing just as quickly as we arrived, all too happy to open her doors for us and things grew and built from there. But no amount of love or care I was given from the two was enough to cover up the fact, if I went outside of the walls something disastrous always managed to happen.

I was just simply deadweight. A bad luck charm if you will. These things never ended well.

“Baby, you’ve just had a bad day.” Vi shook her head as she took my own into her calloused hands. “That’s all it is, my love. We’re in the times of survival now, it’s kill or be killed and… I’m not losing either of you.”

I choked on another pathetic sob, hating myself more and more for every single one. Nevertheless though Vi pulled me into her, muffling the sounds of my cries into her shirt. Traumatized and shaking cries that I rarely actually allowed myself the luxury of, so whenever they came, they came all at once.

~

I fell asleep early that night. Vi running Ellie and I a bath to wash all of the dirt and grime from the disasterous patrol from our bodies. At some point I lost the strength to cry, but I felt like I had lost the strength to do most things. At some point over my sleeping body I had heard Ellie whispering to Vi though, to hide all of the guns, knives, switchblades, anything that could ever be used as a weapon. A mental patient in the middle of the apocalypse. Oh the irony.

“You think she would actually do something to herself?” Vi whispered in her hushed tone while Ellie gnawed anxiously at her already chipped nails.

“Yeah, I do.” She answered with a shuddering breath. “This is worse than Seattle and I- I already thought I was gonna lose her then- Vi, I’m not taking anymore chances.”

“Hey, listen, we’ll take care of her, okay? We’ve got her. We always do.”

“I hope so.” I could hear the rustling of clothes, no doubt an embrace she probably needed. An embrace they probably both needed. And I hated that I was the one who brought them there.

A moment passed and I had nearly managed to doze off again somehow in in the midst of it all just before I could feel the bed slightly dipping behind me. “Just me, you’re safe.” Ellie warned, waiting on my already exhausted muscles to relax before she slid her arms around me from behind. “I need to talk to you, okay?” She whispered against the back of my neck, my heavy eyelids fluttering open for a brief moment. “It’s okay, you can close your eyes. And you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to just… just listen, okay?”

Her fingers gently stroked soothing lines along with arms, the sensation only making my eyelids want to droop even further. “I’ve always had a- a really strong urge to protect you, Vi and I both have. A-And I think you know that. So if you wouldn’t have killed that man I wouldn’t have hesitated. He doomed himself. The moment he laid a goddamn finger on you he doomed himself. And Vi would’ve done the same thing and I think you know that too. Hell, he wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to if Vi was there.” Her fingers slid through my own, a soft yet possessive grasp.

“I know you think I gave up looking for Abby because you were reckless a-and you got hurt and you ruined things. And you were reckless, and you did get hurt but… you didn’t ruin things. You- You just changed things, for the better.” Her lips brushed against my neck, an innocent gesture though had me tilting my head to grant her more access all the same. “You saved me, baby.” She muttered, burrowing her face right into the crook of my neck as she pulled my back in closer to her chest. “I- I could’ve spent my whole life hunting that girl down, because- T-Tommy did ask me to, you know?” Her voice cracked, the feeling of small tears dripping onto my skin, a very simple way to get them to spring up into my own eyes all over again. Just whenever I thought I had been all cried out.

“You- You actually told him no?” My bottom lip quivered as I slowly twisted around to face her, just to feel her own calloused hand against my face. “But I thought you- you promised-“

“It’s not going to bring him back, love.” She shook her head, glancing downwards as if in mild shame. “But whenever you went after me in Seattle and- you got hurt…” she brushed her fingers along the jagged scar slashed into my arm that she was more or less cradling. “I know you were knocked out and you don’t remember a lot of it but… i-it really scared the fuck out of me, y-you know? Like I could lose you. I-I could really honestly lose you and… nothing is worth that, baby. Not a single thing is worth that.”

Tears swam in my eyes as she pressed her lips to the wet streaks that stained them. “You’re an angel, my love. An angel on this absolute fucked up planet and I-I pity every single person that doesn’t get to know you like Vi and I do, you know?” She briefly disconnected her hand from my face to brush away her own tears only to let it snake through my hair as she tugged me back into her chest. “You’re innocent, and you’re kind and you didn’t let any of this take it away and- I hope you never do, honestly.” I felt her chest sinking as she took in a heavy breath and held me to her almost for dear life. Like she was afraid I’d slip away the moment I let go. “No amount of self-sought fury will bring that back… I’ve tried. S-So please, I know it’s hard to find a purpose in this life but… please baby, please stay with me. With us.”

I curled up to her side, resting a heavy head right against where I could feel her heart thumping so softly. The other side of the bed dipped and while I might have flashed back to that moment briefly Ellie’s arms wrapped around me so protectively were enough to pull me back down to earth. At least for a moment.

“My girls.” Vi’s voice followed next, her arm nearly long enough to stretch over the both of us as she brought us close to her with ease. I felt my back pressing against her muscular chest as she settled down next to us, taking her usual trusty spot closest to the door as always.

It was hard to promise survival during the end of the world, even safe within the walls of a community. But for that night I at least promised I wouldn’t do it on my own accord. Someday, somewhere, something would kill me, but it wouldn’t be at my own hand.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence.

Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

[teddy06writes]

Take Care of You

Fiyero Tigelaar x gn!reader

Prompt(s): "I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I don’t need your help, and I definitely don’t need your pity. Fuck off.” / "You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m right here for you if you’ll just let me in.”

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, general descriptions of sickness, stress, something in readers background makes them not want to depend on people, out of character fiyero? (idk man I've only seen the movie and read a lot of gilyeraba fics}

Summary: You and Fiyero have been going out for a few weeks, but you're still hesitant to let yourself get too near him. When you come down with the mysterious illness that's been working its way through Shiz, Fiyero's determined to nurse you through it, despite your reservations.

The harder you tried to focus on the words before you, the more your head swam. The library was quiet, and the lights were dim, so there shouldn't have been any chances of your headache getting worse. Yet pain still thundered at your temples.

Of course, after dodging this sickness for weeks, you caught it just in time for Dr. Dillamond to assign a very important project. It was just your luck.

You dropped your pen to the side, letting your head drop down onto your arms, heaving in a deep breath. No matter what you took or how much you tried to shake it, you could lose the bone tiredness that had been plaguing you for days now.

"You alright, darling? How long have you been holed up in here for?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Fiyero's voice, dragging your head up so quickly you swore you saw spots, "Uh-"

"Woah, hey," He quickly sat down in the chair next to you, reaching out like he needed to steady you, "What's going on?"

You blinked, trying to clear your vision, "Sorry- sorry, I'm just- tired."

"No need to apologize, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"

Clearing your throat, you nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just have a bit of a headache."

Fiyero frowned, glancing at the textbook in front of you, "Well how long have you been working? Maybe it's time for a break."

"Only an hour. I'm fine."

He watched you with concern as you turned back to your work. You could practically feel him watching you, surely taking stock of the dark bags under your eyes, the unusual paleness of your skin, the way you suddenly couldn't seem to warm up.

"Have you taken medicine-"

"Yes. I do know how to take care of myself, Fiyero." There's a sharpness to your voice even you don't expect.

Even out of the corner of your eye you can see him frown, "I know that, darling, I know. You just don't look too good."

You let out a sigh, starting turn toward him again, "Fiyero-"

Before you could stop him, he was reaching out to press the back of his hand to your forehead, his frown deepening, "Darling, your burning up, what on earth are you doing studying?"

"The new assignment from Dr. Dillamond-"

"Isn't due for a week and a half! I mean honestly- Darling you should be resting-"

You stood up abruptly, even as it made stars dance in your vision, "I've been taking care of myself for a long time. I don't need your help, and I certainly don't need your pity, so please, fuck off."

Fiyero had stood and managed to catch your wrist before you could even make it three steps away, pulling you to turn back to him with a strange, desperate look on his face, "Who said this was pity?"

"Fiyero--"

"Who said this was pity?" He repeated, letting go of your wrist only to cup your cheek, his voice dropping, "I happen to genuinely care about your wellbeing, because believe it or not, I care about you, darling."

You closed your eyes for a long moment, trying desperately to turn away, "Fiyero..."

"You don't have to go through this, or anything else alone. Not anymore, not while I'm here," His hand drifted back to the back of your neck, gently turning your face back to him, "I'm right here if you'll just let me in."

Just like that, something in you seemed to break, and you were suddenly trying to blink away tears.

"Oh- Darling-"

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry-"

Fiyero began gently wiping away he few tears that had escaped and were trailing down your cheeks, "Hey, hey, don't apologize..."

"I'm just so tired- I can't shake this no matter what I do."

"Well, forcing yourself to be out and about certainly isn't helping," Fiyero turned, beginning to gather up your books and tuck everything away into your bag, "Come on, let's get you back to your dorm so you can get some rest."

When he took your hand, you didn't fight it, instead allowing yourself to be led along, out of the library. Outside, the cool air only seemed to worsen your chill, and Fiyero was quick to shrug off his jacket, tucking it around your shoulders.

The walk back to the dorms felt twice as long as your original journey to the library had taken, but eventually, you'd made it. Fiyero had coaxed you to lie down, and after all but forcing you to take another dose of medicine, tucked you into bed as if it were his life's mission.

You managed to catch hold of his hand as he turned to leave, whispering hoarsely, "Thank you, 'yero."

"Of course, darling," He smiled softly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead, "I'll come by and check on you in the morning, yeah?"

But the only response he got was the sound of your soft snores. Chuckling to himself, Fiyero pressed another kiss to your forehead, before backing out of your room.

~~~

Enjoyed this fic? Help me buy textbooks :)

[canideformed]

I was going crazy as an older teen trying to figure out what was “wrong” with me and why I was “like that” because I recognised I had a lot of trauma-induced traits but had nothing to point to.

Then I was reading about corporal punishment on kids and suddenly remembering being spanked. And I hadn’t had access to that memory ~at all~ for basically my entire life. It was only because I was actively delving into my mind and also at the same time reading about something related to part of what I went through that I remembered. And even then the memory felt fake, like a dream, and I assumed I had just imagined it until I asked my parents about it later.

Not to mention that my support needs were being actively neglected, leading to emotional abuse. And I wasn’t capable of realising how damaging that was until I had moved out years later.

I realise now that 1. autistic minds are more sensitive to developing trauma-based issues after traumatic experiences and that we can develop PTSD, for example, from ‘less intense*’ trauma than allistics and 2. I actually did experience traumatic events.

So yeah—maybe give people figuring out their mental health some space. I don’t love the plural community either and honestly part of it is also because I felt incredibly pressured to have more parts than I did. This pressure actually caused me to split and did not help my overall mental health. My parts have since integrated and I’m back at the original two I’ve had since I was a kid, but still… I generally have not found the plural community super safe for me personally (though there are plenty of great people and spaces, I just don’t want to risk the bad ones again).

* Trauma is relative, but what this means (that is, what the study I linked found) is that, generally, to develop PTSD, allistics need to have direct and material perceived threats to their (or loves ones’) safety. Autistics don’t.

I don't involve myself at all in the plural community or try to be a spokesperson for it because I genuinely don't want to be around that shit I feel more comfortable rambling about it and my experience on my blog. I don't think "fake claiming" helps anyone when you literally have the "am I faking my brain is lying to me and I'm unaware what's happening" disorder

I find it especially stupid and downright cruel when someone suspects they might be plural only to get bullied into never speaking about it because "everyone's experiences are the same and should be exactly like mines" it does not help especially with how under reached it is + finding the right therapist and people who can actually help you cope with it.

[majinael]

Close, but not enough.

★Michael Kaiser x Female Reader

★651 words

The post-game celebration was a spectacle of flashing lights and heavy bass beats, a sensory overload for someone debating whether they even belonged there. Close friends and family of the players filled the room, their laughter and chatter mingling with the music. I hesitated at the door for far too long before stepping in, feeling the weight of my decision. It had been months since Michael Kaiser and I had drifted apart, and the invitation felt more like a test of nerve than an olive branch.

The room was bathed in red light, a surreal haze that made it hard to focus. People milled about, holding glasses of champagne, their faces glowing with victory and camaraderie. I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for—closure, perhaps? An explanation? Or maybe just him.

I didn’t have time to dwell on it. People approached me, their smiles warm and curious. I exchanged pleasantries, half-heartedly responding while my gaze flitted around the room. The moment someone asked if I was looking for someone, I excused myself, claiming I needed to find the bathroom.

That’s when I saw him.

Michael Kaiser was sprawled on a luxurious couch, exuding confidence as if he were the king of this crimson-lit world. A group of women surrounded him, their laughter loud and saccharine, drawn in by the magnetic pull of his cocky smile. He looked every bit the star he claimed to be, but something in my chest twisted.

As if sensing my gaze, his head turned. Our eyes locked across the room. For a moment, time seemed to slow. His smile faltered, the practiced arrogance slipping away. His blue eyes, usually so cold and calculating, softened, brightened, like they’d just remembered how to feel.

I broke the contact first, turning sharply on my heel and disappearing into the crowd.

The laughter around him became static as soon as she left his sight. Michael’s fingers tightened around the glass in his hand, his smirk fading completely. He drained the champagne in one swift motion and set the glass down, waving off the women who had been vying for his attention.

They didn’t matter.

She was here.

He stood, scanning the room with uncharacteristic urgency. The red haze blurred the faces around him, but none of them were hers. His frustration mounted until he spotted a lone figure standing on the balcony, the moonlight illuminating her in a way the party’s artificial glow never could.

She was holding a glass of champagne, her back to him.

“Were you always this gorgeous, or is it just the dress?” he asked, his voice low, carrying a slight slur from the alcohol.

Startled, she turned, meeting his eyes. A soft laugh escaped her lips as she glanced at his drunken expression. “Maybe it’s the dress,” she teased.

He shook his head, stepping closer. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re drunk.” She reached out, gently setting her glass on the table beside her own.

His gaze lingered, drinking in the sight of her like she was a vision he’d been searching for his entire life. “I’ve always thought so,” he murmured, the honesty in his voice surprising even himself.

She arched a brow, tilting her head as the wind tousled her hair. The moment was so painfully perfect it twisted something deep in his chest, a sensation foreign and almost unbearable.

“That look again,” she said softly, her voice more curious than accusatory.

“What look?” He masked his vulnerability with a familiar cocky grin, though his eyes betrayed him.

“The way you look at me, like I’m some kind of angel who fell from Heaven into this mess of a party.”

His smile softened into something rare, something real. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

For once, Michael Kaiser had no clever words, no game plan, no control. And for once, he didn’t mind.