#described my pain and whats been going on (cause honestly its a lot)

[rosestthorns]

God walking rn sucks. Least it sucks less than being stuck inside all day. Been going absolutely stir-crazy since I got injured.

I'm not the type that enjoys sitting still and doing nothing. Gonna be in pain either way, so why should I wallow away the days playing video games and rotting on the couch.

[psychabolition]

i think the funniest reason against self dx being that only drs are capable of thorough unbiased assessments is that most drs are not unbiased or thorough. they barely even assess.

True !! Its so funny when people reify a "professional judgment" about you that psychologists make in 0.2 seconds because of the jeans and boots you wear and your dyed hair. Like my clothing and hair dye unironically played a role in getting diagnosed with a personality disorder several times.💀 one psychiatrist told me that my top and boots look histrionic and my hair obsessive compulsive . Another one told me that Im antisocial because my jeans are ripped and I "sit like a rockstar" . no one can tell me that diagnoses are a scientific truth and not a moral judgement about me. Another one told me that he can tell by my hair and clothes and the way I sit and talk to him that Im "promiscuous" (=that I have a lot of casual sex) and that thats a sign of borderline . Im literally asexual .I dont know how I could ever take any diagnosis seriously .

But honestly I personally dont use the biomedical model (=which says that mental illness is the same as physical illness. This model tells us that if we have a psych label then we have "symptoms" of an underlying "illness" .) to understand my experiences at all anymore. I neither think of self dx nor of prof dx as particularly helpful. But honestly everyone can use the framework that makes most sense for themselves to understand their own experiences obviously. I would never tell someone that theyre using the wrong words to describe their own experiences or the wrong framework to understand themselves - I'm not a psychologist.

I personally reject all diagnoses and use a different framework instead of the biomedical model that makes more sense to me - the neurodiversity framework . I think of a lot of the experiences that got me diagnosed and that also made me label myself as "ill/disordered" as simply a deviation from "neuronormativity" (=whats societally deemed 'normal' to think/feel/do depending on your assigned gender/age/socioeconomic status/...) - this includes the norm deviation of "suffering more severely than others" . It just makes more sense to me since all mental illness diagnoses are solely descriptive labels - they literally only summarize experiences that you have . Thinking "well i do x because i have y condition (which was diagnosed based on clinician observations of x) and my brain is simply broken in a way requiring me to submit to expert clinical management and surveillance" was a sure way to make me go to therapy and try meds again and again and again . Like when I said "Im suicidal because of my depression (which is a label I got because I am suicidal)" it was like saying "I'm suicidal because I'm suicidal" . Its a circular logic . The question remains: what was actually the cause of my pain ??? Theres never been found a biological cause for any mental illness label by the way (neither low serotonin in depression nor a genetic defect in schizophrenia or that neurotypicals have a different brain than neurodivergent people or whatever else) .

So the reason why I personally dont see both, self diagnosis and professional diagnosis, as helpful is because it made me think I need to take medication and go to therapy to feel better and to lead a life that I enjoy . Its ironic that I ever thought that since therapy and meds always made my life much worse. and I know for certain that I would be doing better nowadays if I had never been to therapy and if I had never taken any meds. Believing that my diagnoses (self dx or prof dx) are true and say something about me made me think that I'll never be happy in life, that I'm a lost cause and that no one can help me (I was always labelled as non-compliant and as uncurably sick) . I dont think of myself as ill, I think of myself as neurodivergent (= deviating from neuronormativity) .

[anakinskywalker97]

Rise of Skywalker

Darth Vader x Ex-Padawan Reader

Chapter Two: Finding Obi-Wan

Chapter One

Summary: You take Anakin to Tatooine to find his old master in hopes of settling off in a new direction.

Warnings: this is all fluff / hurt/comfort. No smut, idk how but I kinda made a plot for this story, so I guess this is a bit of a slow-burn for the next bit.

So he made the choice to follow you. 

This was easier said than done. You would not let him wear the suit. You fought with him and he surrendered. He wore some cotton robes he had stashed away. He hated how they reminded him of his time with the Jedi, but being able to move properly was a welcomed trade-off. 

You granted him the request of bandaging his face before he followed you out into the unknown. He left his chambers for the last time, your hand intertwined with his pulling him along. 

Getting into a fighter felt good, sitting in the cockpit next to you was even better. 

“Where are we going.” You asked him looking at the different controls. 

“My father -” Vader realized his mistaken words a moment too late. They had already left his mouth, you gave a nod and punched in coordinates for Tatooine. All of your decisions were one with the force, that's why you always landed on your feet, so he didn't correct you. When he said father, he meant Palpatine. But rushing the Sith lord looking like a mummy with his old padawan didn't seem smart. 

Going to Tatooine seemed unbelievably painful, but seeing his mother's grave would be nice. He had a lot to say to her. He wondered why you assumed that his father would be there. You knew his story better than most. Maybe some grand force connection point would be there and someone would finally tell him what to do with this stupid prophecy. 

He knew that the emperor had sent him into deep space to have a break from him after his inability to locate the rebel base. Palpatine was working on something that required a lot of concentration. Sure he might have noticed Vader’s change within the force but he doubted it. Looking at things from this position next to you he realized how stupid he had been. How pointless his role was after he had helped kill off the Jedi. 

He had lots to think about, the ship had switched to autopilot and he observed you pull out a paperback. You folded your legs up onto the seat and he remembered all the times you had done this next to him. He rested in your familiar presence. Only then could he feel how deeply attuned you were within the force. It was like looking into a star when he closed his eyes and felt its presence around you. 

“You didn’t fight me yesterday.” He asked wanting to know why you had seemed so weak and disconnected the night before. 

“I didn’t get the chance.” You mumbled absently. Back when you had been his Padawan you once threw a filing cabinet across a meeting room in a fit of rage and that was an accident. He’d seen just how far your reach was in battle and it was much farther than the Grand Masters that trained you. Reaching across the room to your lightsaber should have been a piece of cake, especially if you were under threat. 

“You seemed weak within the force.” He stated watching you carefully.

“My master told me to leave that life behind. That’s what I did.” You answered honestly, there was a deep bitterness in your chest. A wound he had left, one he had no salve to fix. 

“I’m sorry.” He said not sure what he was apologizing for this time. 

“I know.” You said simply. “It's not gone, within me. It's always around me, it's just pulls me along these days. Up until yesterday anytime I tried to use it, I don't know how to describe it. It felt like rejection. In some ways I wonder if it was keeping me hidden or something.” 

The rest of the time passed as he asked you questions about your life. You were a smuggler, you had an apartment on Yavin 4. You didn't work with the rebels but occasionally piloted for them if you thought they had a good cause. You lived alone. You ran runs alone but occasionally, you smiled, you did runs with a friend. Jealousy burned through him. He was happy you had a mostly danger-free life compared to what it was during the Clone Wars when he had trained you. It was however very lonely. 

Tatooine was it’s usual hellscape. It was nice to have one thing that managed to be consistent throughout his life. He let you land and choose what direction they went in. Observing you choices carefully but feeling no resistance from the force. They traveled through the mountainous rocks and felt no threat from Sand People. 

When you got to what appeared to be a house carved into one of the rocks. He was about to correct you, and tell you that this wasn't his childhood home when a presence moved within the dwelling. It was too weak to determine its owner. When the door opened a familiar face took him in. Would he even recognize him? He looked like a mummy next to you. 

But unarmed and hands open Obi-Wan walked toward him. He said nothing embracing Vader in a hug. For a moment he thought about killing Obi-Wan as it had been a personal mission for so long. Obi-Wan was impossibly calm, his peace radiated through his body around Vader. He used to find this so unbearably annoying, and now for the first time, he welcomed it. Obi-Wan didn’t have anything to hold over Vader, he just accepted him as is. It felt like a big burden was lifted from his shoulders. 

 Vader finally caved and wrapped his arms around his former master. Finally able to accept him for who Obi-Wan was. They were two sides of a coin, mirrored opposites.  He watched you closely as you abandoned him and went into the house. He felt weird being alone with Obi-Wan but he was happy that your skin was out of the harsh sunlight. Obi-Wan released him and looked into his eyes. He knew they were still an awful red, but he also wasn't sure what side of things would be his final outcome. Things needed to be balanced. 

Obi-Wan motioned for him to sit on a large rock. What happened next was surprising. 

“I’m sorry. I was blinded, I only realized this after communication with Qui-gon.” Obi-Wan said softly, then filled Anakin in on the force ghost concept. “I failed both of you. You were my responsibility, my brother. I should have never left you alone with anyone, especially not a politician.” 

“I made my choice,” He said firmly frustrated by the man's guilt, he much preferred the master who was above it all. Not the man, the brother he had left behind. 

“The choice you were groomed into,” Obi-Wan said with a finality to his voice that reminded him of many past arguments. This one he was happy to lose. 

“You need to come inside, out of the sun,” Obi-Wan said hurriedly finally taking in his bandaged appearance. Vader sat uncomfortably next to you at Obi-Wan's table. He listened as they discussed his medical needs, all the advanced procedures. His skin, his lungs, if he would even need a new suit. They decided going to Yavin 4 would be best as they had the best medical and your apartment was there. He perked up at the idea of seeing more of your life, how you lived. He trusted you to know about the medical side of things, that was always an area of special interest for you. His power was still unmatched and the rebel base was little threat to him and by extension you. 

“The climate there will be easier on your skin, I have no doubt we will find a good solution there,” Obi-Wan said before getting up to grab some drinks. 

Then he was sitting there listening to all the rebel plans and current politics. He was at a table with the man he needed to kill while being handed everything he needed to destroy the rebels. Both you and Obi-Wan were out of practice, it wouldn't be a challenge for him to kill both of you and give all this over to his master. 

He thought of the power. Then he heard you let out a loud laugh. His attention moved to you as you ran over to the window sill. 

“No don’t engage with it.” Obi-Wan scolded as you picked up a sand cat. They were normally rude but not necessarily dangerous, he had never seen one this affectionate though. He was waiting for it to attack you. “Take it outside.” 

“But he’s so cute.” You said enjoying the way it nuzzled against your chest. Eventually, you took it out to the front door and watched as it hurried away. You paused at the door for a moment looking at the sunset. He thought of killing you one last time and knew that he would be unsuccessful. You looked at the sun from the doorway the same way he had observed his mother doing countless times. There was a lot to you, he had trained you to be a ruthless fighter, dangerously independent, all things you already had in you. But there was also the softness he felt only fell on his eyes, parts of you he selfishly wanted all to himself. You were beyond kind and caring, a nobility about you he knew he would not be able to sway. Those parts of you were the closest thing he could compare his mother's love to. She had been beaten down badly by the world and yet helped everyone and somehow always had enough left over for him. 

You came right back to his side and rested against his shoulder. You were totally relaxed. You knew that he wouldn't betray you, but why?

Because you never wanted to in the first place - Your voice rang in his head and shame gripped him. He had to be more careful with his thoughts. They force bond between the two of you had tripled compared to how it used to be. 

Don't shy away from me now. I like the way you look at me -  you gave him a look that ended the night. 

“‘Dinner and bed,” Obi-Wan announced before moving into the kitchen. 

They made a nest out of cushions and blankets in the living space, the two of you could have stayed on the ship but he could sense how badly you wanted to stay in the house. Sleeping away from you was not an option for him so he didn't suggest it. After a lot of insisting on who would take the bed, you finally convinced Obi-Wan to stay in his room. 

Vader eyed the mash of pillows and blankets suspiciously, would you want to share a bed with him again? Maybe you would prefer it if he slept on the ship. Then he realized how stupid he was being, the chances of him actually sleeping were extremely low. Tatooine held too many painful memories for him to risk sleeping. They would drown him. He would sit here and watch over you while you slept. 

It will be easier if you lay down first - You gave him a confused look as if it was obvious. He was about to argue with you when he realized you might see his inability to sleep as a form of rejection. He could sit here all night, or he could hold you. It was an easy choice. 

He got down on the floor slowly and was surprised that it wasn't so painful. He tried to move over so you would have enough space. When you pulled his arm away from his side you gave him a look.

Is this not alright? - you cocked your head to the side. He opened his arms in response and felt you press against him with your head on his shoulder. - Wait does this hurt? 

No- he responded feeling more at home than he ever had under Palpatine's control or at the Temple. He felt like he was home. Obi-Wan’s strong force presence gave him a sense of comfort. He could catch you probing his mind now, and you sighed enjoying the same feeling. Happy the two of you were in alignment.

You see Obi-Wan as my father? - He asked softly.

No, it's just easier to see Qui-Gon when he is around - you answered sleepily. He had a million questions but wouldn't press you now when you needed rest.

That night he didn’t wake up to check your breathing, he was in a deep sleep trusting the two of you to be there in the morning. This was the first night he had really slept since he had sent you away all those years ago.

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part five)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: a party from hell.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mentions of recreational alcohol & drug consumption, emotional hurt / no comfort in this chapter (sorry, she's a little angsty), blackmail, family drama, mentions of minor character death — if i missed anything, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

The venue is filled wall to wall with people, half of whom you have not met before this night. They’re swaying to the loud music, talking over one another, and indulging in various colourful drinks from the open bar.

Sitting on a sofa in the corner of the large space, you’re watching the night unfold in front of your eyes. There’s a drink in your hand, a cranberry vodka, however, you haven’t touched it yet. Instead, the ice has long melted, causing lone droplets of water to drip down your arm.

A harsh scent of alcohol fills the air. It gets stronger every time a party attendee sits next to you, congratulating you on an incredible single with the band they never thought you’d ever play with. You go with the flow, the politeness you’ve been taught from a young age showing its wings, and thank each person that engages with you for coming tonight.

They ask how this all came about, you on a song with Corroded Coffin. A collaboration for the ages. 

You answer honestly, to the best of your knowledge. “The powers that be organised everything”, and the person you’re speaking with laughs at your answer. Then they ask about a topic much hotter than the new record — your relationship with Eddie Munson.

The second the curly-haired rockstar is mentioned, a smile breaches your lips.

“That’s between me and him, for now.”

Which doesn’t stop anyone from trying to invade your privacy further. Wondering, out loud and with no shame, if what they’re reading in the tabloids is true. Is it just for show, or is it real? And then it goes one of two ways:

“Hope I’m invited to the wedding. It’s shaping up to be quite the party.”

“At least you’ll make a lot of money from this arrangement.”

Not one person wishes you well. Not one person says they’re happy for you, or for the Corroded Coffin frontman. It obviously makes you wonder why because you look happy… right? Why is your relationship such a big deal if you’re clearly happy? 

Don’t you look happy?

But then, in between those conversations, your gaze finds Eddie with ease. His own brown eyes land on you every single time, without fail, as if there was some sort of magnetic pull between the two of you. He smiles wide, shooting you a casual wink from wherever he’s standing at the time.

And so, you force the treacherous thoughts deep, deep down. Squish them until they’re miniscule and a problem for later — which in retrospect, not a good idea — ‘cause right this moment in time, you’re definitely happy.

Eddie makes you happy.

You’re also just glad to see the rockstar is having fun, considering how reluctant he was to leave the comfort of his own home. He’s mingling and laughing. A pep in his step as he orders another drink. After all, parties are his element.

“God, my poor fucking feet hurt so much,” Holly sighs, dropping down next to you with an elegant bounce. “I honestly don’t know how you can perform in heels for multiple nights in a row when I can’t even make it through a couple of measly hours.”

You laugh. “No pain, no gain.”

“Okay, Magic Johnson.” Holly snorts while playfully rolling her eyes.

“Actually, I’d prefer to be Patrick Ewing,” you correct her, it’s a tease with a slight dramatic flare, “‘Cause who am I if not a New York Knicks fan.”

The giggle that escapes your friend is infectious. In between the lighthearted chuckles, she does her best not to spill the fruity drink in her hand, pressing the glass to her lips and taking a sip. She relaxes into the sofa, legs now extended outwards, a hazard to anyone walking by.

“Speaking of New York, when are you taking the rockstar to meet your parents?” Holly probes, brow raised.

“Oh god,” you dramatise in response, “That’s like a super serious thing, no? I don’t think we’re there yet.”

But Holly doesn’t give up as easily, seeing right through the front you didn’t even realise you were putting up. As your best friend, she knows you better than anyone. That includes moments like these, when you’re minimising feelings out of fear.

“Babe, be for real. He has already met your grandma and she’s arguably a lot more important than your parents.” Holly states, taking another quick sip of her cocktail. “No offence to Alicia and Brad, but we all know your family is ruled by the little lady who already hates your boyfriend.”

You sigh. She’s obviously right.

“So, what’s the real reason you don’t wanna take him home?”

Glancing over at Eddie, who’s lost in conversation with the producers of your record, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering what to say to her. “Because I’m scared it’s all moving too fast,” would be an appropriate answer to the question, but then again that’s not entirely true.

Holly nudges your arm and you turn your attention back to her immediately.

“I’ve just been really happy in our little bubble these last few months and I’m afraid if we venture further out into the real world, we’ll lose that feeling.”

Raw, honest. It’s a scary thing to say, but Holly doesn’t judge. She never does. Instead, her arm makes way around your shoulders and she squeezes you lightly when your head rests against her skin.

“With the way the two of you look at one another, I bet my sanity that you’ll be together for a very long time.”

And you hope she’s right.

Eddie walks up to where you’re sitting shortly after, politely asking your friend if he could steal a moment alone with you. Holly of course agrees, saying something about finding Jeff ‘cause he looks mighty fine tonight and she’s a little buzzed, “If you know, you know.”. You watch with a smile as she disappears between the dancing bodies while Eddie sits in the now empty spot, casually placing a hand on your thigh.

“Having fun?”

“I am,” you answer and lean in closer to place a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Even more now.”

He smirks at you. “I’m glad, baby.”

“Seems you are too.”

“I am.” Eddie nods, free hand now holding your jaw, as he leans in to capture your lips with his own.

The kiss is short and sweet, but like everything you and the rockstar do, it attracts attention from pretty much everyone in the room. A click of the camera, a flash of light. But neither of you care. Looking instead into each other’s eyes once you pull apart, as if you’re the only people at this party. 

Even though putting a label on things wasn’t entirely necessary, it definitely cemented whatever feelings are floating within your core. And Eddie feels the same way. He actually feels a lot more than he’s willing to admit out loud. Partially because he’s always battled commitment issues, mainly because he’s really afraid of losing you. 

Again.

-

Eddie Munson loved a good party.

This wasn’t always the case, since during his teenage years he was often excluded from every single guest list. Then he started dealing. Suddenly, the metalhead was a hot ticket, and even though people still didn’t care for his company, they liked the stuff he brought. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention — as fake as it may have been.

Once Corroded Coffin made it big, and Eddie realised that people actually wanted to party with him for who he was, and not the drugs he had access too, (although, for some, it was a little bit of both), the rockstar decided he was going to throw the best damn parties Hollywood has ever seen.

It quickly became second nature. Make money, then spend it just as fast so other people can have a good time.

When the drinking, and other activities, got a little out of control, the guys tried to talk some sense into their friend with a little tough love: “Dude, those people don’t give a fuck about you! They only wanna hang out with you, ‘cause you’re rich.”. But Eddie was too far gone and he didn’t care to stop. His house was full of people every single weekend, most of whom he knew, and for the first time in his miserable life, the rockstar felt like the most important person on the goddamn planet. There was no way he was letting go of that feeling.

Then August ‘92 happened.

The evening started off as nothing special. Just another pool party to combat the unbearable Los Angeles heat. It was a common occurrence during the summer months, so Eddie didn’t think that night was going to be any different.

Surrounded by a group of girls that undoubtedly only want to get in his pants, he’s laughing at the unfunny jokes and taking advantage of the fact that he doesn’t need to refill his own drinks, the “groupies”, as Marianne calls them, gladly do it for him. 

They’re brushing up against him and flirting with no shame while batting their lashes. Eddie usually eats this shit up. Matter of fact, he should be loving every second of it right now, but his focus has long shifted elsewhere, the girls a mere distraction from the actual object of his attention and desire.

From the corner of his eye, he’s watching you.

Jesus Christ. Eddie can’t believe you came. He can’t believe you’re actually here, at his house, seemingly enjoying yourself. And to say you looked fucking hot would be the understatement of a century. Splayed out on one of the lounge chairs, hiding from the sun, you’re wearing a white cotton blouse and skimpy denim shorts, and Eddie aches for his current conversation to be over so he can go and officially introduce himself to you — like he should have at the Grammys.

“Eds, do you want another drink?”

He barely registers the question, even with the girl who has her hand on his bare bicep, rubbing up and down rather seductively. Instead, the rockstar notices how you stand up and look around the party once, before walking in the direction of his big house. So Eddie thinks that now’s his chance, perhaps the only one he’d get, and following a quick internal monologue to pep himself up, he leaves the group of ladies disappointed, following you inside.

That was almost the last party Eddie threw.

You flipped this switch inside of him, one the rockstar didn’t even know existed. After that night, he no longer wanted attention from just anyone. Taking centre stage in his mind — and heart — was America’s favourite sweetheart. Even when he royally fucked things up, he only thought about you.

Though for a number of lonesome weeks, he wasn’t sure you were thinking about him since his actions proved nothing more than borderline douchey. So Eddie fell back into self-destructive behaviour just as fast as he scrambled out of it. The parties got louder, he became more obnoxious.

September 1992. Saturday Night Live.

That will be a night his band, his management, his friends, and even his fans, will never let Eddie forget. Unfortunately, for all the wrong reasons.

The drinks pre-show were free and Eddie had a mountain of feelings he desperately needed to get over, along with memories he wanted to bury deep, until they were nothing but specs of dust, flashes that didn’t resemble anything — especially not you.

He did his best not to slur his words during the live performance, and for the most part, he succeeded. Although that didn’t really matter since anyone in the rockstar's vicinity could clearly tell he was intoxicated. Eddie, leaning half his weight on the microphone, round sunglasses covering his bloodshot eyes, should have never been allowed to set foot on the stage that night.

Let alone twice.

Under the dim stage light, as they hoped to conclude their last song without a major incident, Eddie’s band mates were exchanging worried glances. The Corroded Coffin frontman had a couple more drinks in between sets and was barely able to follow along with the music.

Thankfully, behind the scenes, Marianne convinced production to shift the cameras away from unravelling Eddie, even switched off his microphone, and the only people left witness to his drunken mess were the folks present physically.

Eddie on the other hand couldn’t have cared less about how he was behaving since the alcohol didn’t numb him like he hoped, instead the thought of you being somewhere in the same city, overpowered his senses. Would it be crazy to hope you were watching? Would it be crazy to think that despite how rudely he treated you, you’d still show up like you both talked about?

Would it be crazy to try and find you? Search New York, high and low, in hopes that someone knows someone, who knows someone else, that knows where you live?

Instead, against his better judgement and everyone else’s rather aggressive protests, Eddie goes to the after party planned in his name.

Unsurprisingly, you didn’t come.

His black out was imminent.

The damages done to the restaurant came to just under five thousand dollars. The stress from keeping it out of the press robbed his team about two years of their life, so Marianne says.

And that was the last party Eddie threw. 

Considering how out of control things had gotten, how out of control he had become at some point during the night while thinking about you with every drink that burned down his throat, it could’ve been a lot worse.

Eddie still only thinks about you. Difference being, now, almost a year later, you are attending a party together, and the alcohol no longer tastes like regret.

When he looks at you, like he is right now, under the fluorescent club lights, his heart increases tenfold. He wants to kiss every inch of your face, hold you close because that’s where you belong. 

Things simply got better because he owned up to his mistakes and learned to open himself up to love, as scary as that feeling is sometimes. He’s not second guessing your intentions, because that would be cruel. He just loses himself in his doubts sometimes, since in the past, no pretty girl has given him the time of day without wanting something in return.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Eddie whispers against your lips, thumb gently grazing along your cheekbone. He proceeds to tell you how you make life a little more normal, and he’s grateful for it, despite always wanting fame. You tell him how attention is nothing if it doesn’t come from the right person, and he agrees, brown locks bouncing as he nods his head. Then he kisses you again.

And this kiss is arguably a lot more urgent than the last. Eddie is hovering over you entirely. One hand remains holding onto your face, while the other is on your waist, pushing you deeper into the sofa.

You can hear another click of a camera in the distance and despite your better judgement, that voice in the back of your mind, closely reminiscent of your Nana’s, telling you to push your boyfriend away, you slide your hands up his back and cling closer to him.

An inch of regret courses through your veins the following morning when you receive a call from your quite displeased team, “what the hell were you thinking?!”. You deflect. Unwilling for anyone to burst through the happy bubble you’ve found yourself in, you blame them for poor organisation and security ‘cause who even allows cameras to be brought into a private Hollywood event.

That regret is unfortunately also accompanied by a killer hangover and very little memory of what else has happened the night prior.

The empty spot in bed, usually home to a set of wild brown locks, should have been a warning sign ‘cause Eddie never woke up before you, especially after a party. You find him in the kitchen, at the spot where the two of you first met. His head is in his hands and you’re instantly feeling worried.

The happy bubble threatening to burst.

“Hey,” you croak, hoping to get his attention, “are you okay?”

Eddie’s as still as a statue. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence, or your question, and the worry in the pit of your stomach increases tenfold. So you approach him, movements slow due to the banging headache as well as the apprehension given your boyfriend's current position. Only when your hand hesitantly reaches his back, rubbing once downward while you position yourself next to him, Eddie lifts his head and tilts it to the side, finally meeting your eyes.

“Had a good night?” Eddie asks, shifting his stance so that your hand falls down to your side. This should have been a second warning; him trying to avoid physical contact.

“Y-yeah,” you force a smile, thinking that it’s needed, “You?”

“Not really,” he answers a little too quickly.

His brown eyes scan yours, for what exactly, you’re a little too hungover to realise. But the longer he stares at you, the worse you begin to feel. A certain dread spreads through your insides, causing your stomach to drop. What’s happening right now? Actually, what happened in the late hours of last night that’s causing this sudden rift between you and the rockstar.

“What’s going on, Eddie?”

The tone of your voice is so quiet, you’re unsure he’s even heard you. But then a sigh escapes his lips. He briefly glances towards the back door, out towards the pool, before settling his gaze back on your frame.

“I think we made a mistake,” he says a little too bluntly. “I-I don’t think we should have labelled this so soon, and ehm… This is nothing on you, sweetheart. I’m just not the relationship type.”

Dumbfounded, is a little too plain to explain the feeling that you’re experiencing at this very moment. Betrayed would be a better word, but that would mean Eddie is after saying those things. That he’s really after shattering your entire world in the space of a few mere seconds. Betrayed would mean your gut instinct, the one you have ignored ever since you’ve met the Corroded Coffin frontman, was always correct: he was no good.

Used, is how you begin to feel as Eddie continues to list reasons for why he can’t actually be your boyfriend and how you’re better off simply being friends with benefits, or whatever it is the two of you had been over the last few months. Used fuels the anger inside of you because, to you, deceit is worse than cheating. And he seems so nonchalant about it, which only adds to the fire.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Eddie stops mid another lame excuse and for the first time this morning, he reaches for your hands, fingers gently grazing against your skin, which only adds to the pain you’re beginning to endure. 

“Sweetheart…”

“No, no.”

You retreat, unwilling to let the rockstar hold you since he’s after breaking your heart like it was worth nothing — Jesus H. Christ, this is some sick and twisted deja vu.

Instead, you cross your arms across your chest like a shield while taking a step away from the man you realised now you definitely loved, yet one that clearly didn’t love you.

“I-I guess I’m just confused as to what’s changed since last night—”

“I’m not the relationship type,” Eddie cuts in, repeating what he’s already said, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel anything towards you. I like you, sweetheart. A lot.”

“Eddie, come on,” you scoff, tears threatening to breach through the confines of their home, “Do you realise how ridiculous you sound right now? If you feel something towards me, I-I don’t get how being called my boyfriend and being exclusive with me is the worst thing on the planet.”

When he doesn’t immediately reply, you continue.

“Unless that’s it. You don’t want to be exclusive because the thought of keeping your dick in your pants when I’m not around is too difficult, or having other people throw themselves at you and not immediately act on it is something Eddie Munson simply cannot do.”

“That’s not it,” the rockstar interjects.

“Then fucking enlighten me, Eddie, because you’re making no fucking sense right now!”

Again, he doesn’t say anything. And it’s precisely because he’s not showing any willingness to be honest with you right this moment, after endless prior conversations about how that’s the one thing he will always be, you decide for your own sanity that this isn’t a relationship you can fight for.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

Three words you’ve spoken to him before, only this time they hold a lot more weight. This time, they signal an end to something that was only after getting a proper beginning. The end of America’s favourite popstar and the Corroded Coffin frontman — a headline that broke on Page Six the very next morning.

Eddie watches you leave. Frozen in his spot as you rush back to the bedroom the two of you have shared the last few months. And his heart aches because unbeknown to you, this is not what he wanted to happen.

Unbeknown to you, this is not how he actually feels. He doesn’t want to end things with you so soon after they’ve begun. He wants you. He wants to be your boyfriend, if not more.

He just can’t.

Last night’s party was the main catalyst behind the rockstar’s actions this morning. The attendance of a certain someone that wasn’t actually invited was a shock to Eddie’s drunken system, and the reason behind why he simply can’t tell you anything, especially the truth.

(Not right now anyway.)

-

Chrissy Cunningham.

The preppy blonde was the only person Eddie loved before meeting you. 

Despite not ever being anything more than friends, at least on a physical level, for the longest time, Chrissy was Eddie’s only supporter. The only person to show him kindness and shower him with care he undoubtedly deserved.

Chrissy encouraged Eddie to follow his dreams, pursue a career in music, because out of everyone in Hawkins, she truly believed in his talent.

Then she died.

Suddenly, Eddie was not only left with a hole in his heart, but he also found himself at the centre of a murder investigation. Despite being declared innocent, her death nothing but a freak accident, the scars on the rockstar’s body remind him of the events of March ‘86 to this very day.

He told you a little about what happened, just failed to mention Chrissy. Not for any particular reason, he just doesn’t talk about her as a rule — unwilling to reopen the wounds he so desperately tried to heal over the years.

And because he doesn’t talk about Chrissy, or mention her name and what she meant to him, Eddie never expected her to be brought up.

Especially not a Hollywood party of all places.

Eddie first spotted your grandmother mid-performance of the band’s single with you. She approached him shortly after, when you excused yourself to take some shots with Holly, leaving the frontman alone.

“Even I cannot deny that it’s a good song,” she states simply, as Eddie eyes her suspiciously.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t think you were on the guest list.”

She scoffs. “Just like my lovely granddaughter, I can get myself on every single list I want, and even though I don’t necessarily want to be here, I do have something to tell you.”

Eddie cocks a brow, “Oh yeah?”

“Hawkins is a lovely little town,” she says, not missing a beat. “It’s quaint. Reminds me of a place I spent hiding my pregnancy all those moons ago, but that’s a story for another time. Or not. Depends how well you listen to me right now.”

“What do you want?”

“Does my granddaughter know about Chrissy Cunningham?”

Eddie’s face falls the second Chrissy’s name escapes your grandmothers painted lips, though he doesn’t get a chance to actually reply to the question, because she’s quick to continue with her agenda.

“I suppose not. Your uncle Wayne was really quite open to tell me about her though, about what she meant to you.”

She pauses, tilting her head to one side.

“I am sorry for your loss, Edward.”

Another brief pause.

“Yet I can’t help the curiosity, why didn’t you tell my baby about this girl if she supposedly played such a big part in you pursuing your dreams?”

“Don’t do this—”

“Do what, Edward? I’m just trying to learn more about the boy my naive granddaughter is willing to risk her entire career for. Again, your uncle Wayne was very helpful in this department, considering you practically shunned me from the dinner I organised for this exact reason.”

“Listen—”

“No,” your grandmother interrupts, “We both know you’re not good enough for my sweet angel and this entire Chrissy situation you are trying really hard to hide from everyone, only proves my point,” she snaps and Eddie’s feeling grateful that the place is a little too crowded and a little too noisy for anyone to hear what’s happening at this very moment.

“Edward, if you have nothing to hide, if you’re really innocent and played no part in the poor girl's death, why can’t the world know? Feel free to answer me, I’m just trying to get some insight into who my granddaughter has chosen to date.”

Eddie swallows his breath, unsure of what to say because it’s these types of conversations he’s been trying to avoid by not bringing up Chrissy.

Ever.

He didn’t do anything to the girl he loved. He is one hundred percent innocent, and the courts proved his side of the story. Yet, he’s been ridiculed and questioned left, right, and centre.

Only Max and Wayne know that the final reason as to why he’s decided to leave Hawkins behind for good, was to get away from the rumours and the people that didn’t believe him. And as he rushed to chase his dreams, he swore he’d never bring this up. Swore to never mention Chrissy’s name to anyone, or the fact that she’s been the inspiration behind numerous Corroded Coffin singles.

In a way, it was freeing. In Los Angeles, Chrissy Cunnigham was nothing but a figment of Eddie’s imagination.

Until this very moment.

“I didn’t kill her.”

“I know,” your Nana states, “But it wouldn’t take a lot to make people in Hollywood believe that you did and then your image is ruined, your career starts to decline, and the only other person that’s affected besides you and your bandmates, is the person you claim to feel something for. My granddaughter.”

Eddie’s heart sinks. He glances behind your grandmother’s shoulder to where you’re standing at the bar with Holly, laughing at something your friend has said seconds prior.

He’s happy with you. He’s happy to be known as your boyfriend.

And it’s because of that happiness, he knows he cannot ruin your life by involving you in something that happened before he was even famous.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” the rockstar mumbles in a defeated tone.

“She’s going to hurt either way,” your grandmother says, “But if you end things with her on your own, I promise to keep Chrissy’s name out of the press, so you’re only breaking my granddaughter's heart and not simultaneously ending her career.”

The metalhead hangs his head low, closing his eyes momentarily to try and gather his tipsy thoughts. His lack of rebuttal is enough for your grandmother to claim her victory. She places a hand on the rockstar’s shoulder and squeezes once, faking remorse.

“And Eddie,” she continues, “I wouldn’t tell her about this conversation, and I also wouldn’t be so brave to tell her about Chrissy yourself, because with a snap of my finger, the whole world will know. Then you gotta ask yourself, what’s more important? Your happiness, her happiness, or the careers you both worked extremely hard for.”

She lets her hand fall and walks out of the party with her head held high. Unseen by you and unnoticed by everyone else here, almost like a ghost. Like the conversion never happened. 

But the ache in Eddie’s chest is proof enough. He knows what occurred, just like he knows what he unfortunately needs to do — which is break your fucking heart.

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @astheni-a , @bebe07011

[hanasnx]

heyyy do you have any advice on how to write smut cause its sooo difficult for me *cries in virgin*

ur like one of my fav smutty writers and idk if you have any tips 😭

first off thank u very much i appreciate that :)

this isnt the first time ive been asked for writing tips so im gonna give a lot of info. youre bound to find something useful in this mess

im so sorry but one of my solutions to giving myself confidence in smut-writing was to literally fuck and fuck a lot

after losing my virginity it still wasnt enough experience tbh. so i gave myself room to explore my sexuality and was privileged enough to do it with a partner that encouraged that growth. that experience of fucking sure didnt hinder my smut-writing ability if you know what i mean ;0 but everything else about writing i learned from years of practice. ive been writing since i was in elementary school like id come home from fourth grade and read and write on quotev klsdjfsfj smut writing skills came later post puberty

when i tried writing smut as a virgin i genuinely couldn’t get past the build up. i was fantastic at writing the build up, it was the actual sex part that was hard bcos even tho i had done enough research (i read a lot of porn) it didn’t instill me with enough confidence that i could write it correctly, and so i never did. however! i sure wish i’d committed to it more, so let me see if i can write out some tips that would’ve helped me in the past

(this is just how i write smut, im by no means an expert)

my timeline

the way i write smut is pretty formulaic so i’ll break it down:

hook line ⟹ settings ⟹ build-up ⟹ foreplay ⟹ sex ⟹ ending

☥ hook line. maybe: a dialogue piece to kickstart; an ambiguous line that reels you in; an exciting action. i dont like starting my story with the name/pronouns of a character doing something boring. i.e. “you were getting ready for the day…” idk it’s not the worst thing in the world and we've all done it but just writing out what i try to avoid.

☥ build up is key to me. i have such a hard time reading and writing porn with no plot. i’ll do it sometimes if i like the writer enough, but i rarely write smut without the build up bcos i feel like that’s where the juice is. its whats fun and what you get to play around with bcos the actual sex part of the fic is pretty predictable.

focus on what’s said and unsaid in dialogue between characters. focus on the emotion each of them are feeling and how that emotion manifests into body language.

⟹ dirty talk is not for everyone, but god i love it. literally get nasty with it, this is your writing and we’re all just readin it. build anticipation using dirty talk, make filthy promises, make threats. make your characters talk about the nasty shit they wanna do to each other.

imagine someone you really wanna fuck, imagine the things youd do to them if you had the chance,,, write it into your characters.

☥ foreplay. goes hand in hand with dirty talk, its where the touching starts. decide how you want to play it. who gets oral, who gets fingered. both? one of them? neither and they just go straight to fucking?? i like foreplay, but if youre writing a “quickie” scenario then it may not be in the cards.

lets say it is in the cards tho. so some things to remember:

⟹ foreplay gets the dicks hard. when dicks get hard they leak pre-cum. balls have like no cushion and theyre soft and have little sacks in em that move around. the skin of this genital is often described as velvety bcos its soft. ive honestly never had sex with an uncircumcised penis so i have no idea if there’s a difference between how they feel.

foreplay makes the pussies loose and wet. the inside can be lumpy. it can be ridged or smooth. it can be all kinds of flesh colors like brown and pink.

without the foreplay (which can be verbal communication, or touching of the body or genitals) its a little painful for afabs bcos theyre too tight or too dry. and a flaccid dick is a little unpredictable to try to fit in.

⟹ afabs can have multiple orgasms, amabs are less lucky. afabs can cum and squirt multiple times, amabs can cum multiple times.

⟹ genitals get really sensitive after cumming though. so if you write someone finishing, write out how they might need some time before they finish again or start fucking, or that they get overstimulated getting touched still after they came and that sensitivity is a little uncomfortable.

⟹ the head of the penis is the most sensitive and that’s what makes it cum/orgasm. clits on pussies are the most sensitive and its what makes cum/orgasms happen. its very difficult if not impossible to achieve orgasm (if youve got a pussy) through penetration alone without clit stimulation

⟹ you can cum/squirt and not have an orgasm

☥ sex

⟹ changing positions can change angles and hit new pleasurable spots inside pussies.

⟹ probably write a couple different positions during the sex part, just to keep things fresh.

⟹ sprinkle in dirty talk to prolong the sex scene and to avoid sounding repetitive because if youre writing p in v it’s pretty standard to thrust over and over again until youre done. its a lot less glamorous when you spell it out like that, so you gotta add shit to make the sex scene more enjoyable to the reader whos not actively experience the sex.

☥ ending. i usually end the one shot after the fucking is done.

the smut tips

☥ think back to a time you were really turned on. from a show, from a book, something someone said to you, your own sex life, porn you really liked,,, take inspiration from it. use it and channel that own arousal within you.

if youve got a dirty fantasy and it gets you so hot and bothered thinking about it, write that.

if youve got a partner that fucks you crazy good and supplies you with inspo for dialogue or for settings or for scenarios, write that too. theres been a whole bunch on my blog that was inspired by my boyfriend. not everything, but enough to mention it.

also! another thing that people underestimate is the inspiration you take from other blogs. like mine for example, if you like my stuff take inspo from it. study my writing style and you’ll see all kinds of little tips in subtext id never be able to list for you. i do that with other blogs, i dont copy them but i definitely learn little things i like from them and incorporate it into my writing for a more cohesive story. if i take an idea though i ask for their permission & credit them.

☥ the most important tip i can give you is be as self indulgent as possible. youre wasting time worrying about other people. “will they like this? will people think im weird? what if they think im weird for writing this?” fuck that noise. warn accordingly, and go ham. your self indulgence is your best friend. it’ll guide you through all those dirty things you want to say or do to someone, let it take root and write what excites you. chances are you will find your people, and your fic will be set apart bcos it’s so specific to you that people will be drawn to that. and if theyre not? it ends up not being popular? it doesnt matter! because you had fun writing it right? fuck yea u did

☥ the types of words you use are so important. words that invoke a certain emotion or sexy feeling. its difficult to explain but i try my hardest to use “beautiful language” paired with dirty, disgusting, cacophonous language. marry them together so you can convey whether youre “love-making” or “fucking”. i dont like words that dont look or sound good in my head. like when you paint, you probably use colors you like looking at to create the entire picture on the canvas that’s beautiful. so pick out paints that are pleasing to the eyes. the bold ones and the soft ones.

examples of words i dont use cos i hate the way they sound and the way they look: “vagina” and “penis” LMAO

even “butt” isnt a word i like to use. i’ll almost always use “ass” or “backside”

⟹ the smut writer’s dictionary

☥ i keep comedy out of it for the most part, ive never really seem humor added positively into a smut that added to the experience. its usually physical humor stuff like the characters bumping heads or stubbing their toe or something its just cringy to me idk. if i add comedy (i am not good at writing comedy)i put it before the smut. and if you must have some sort of lightheartedness id keep it casual, light, and personal. like an inside joke or something tongue in cheek. you dont have to hide your deepest desires behind humor , you can be serious

☥ your pain tolerance is heightened so run with that. get spanked its fun

more important tips i love and stand by:

☥ call backs are important to me. it’s like if you have something in the future of your fic to be used, try to incorporate it in some small way in your establishing settings or build up. but it’s not as important to others as it is to me. an example would be in my one shot “talk huttese to me”, at the end anakin fucks reader on the tool table. at the very beginning of the fic, when i had reader taking in the surroundings of the “garage bay”, she scanned the drawer stack where she set his broth she brought him, and the tool table he’d later fuck her on. its kinda like,,, foreshadowing (i think?). you’re setting up your reader to be like “?? i wonder why the author thought it would be important to mention the tool table.. wonder if anakin fucks her on it later.” but even if your readers dont react that way, i still think it ties things together nicely

☥ try to write 15-20 mins uninterrupted. create a ritual. i use the bathroom, refill my water, grab a fun drink like sweet tea, put on a silent youtube video (like my ahsoka star wars lofi live i love so much), listen to a playlist of music (preferably music you havent heard before so it can fade into the background. maybe even cultivate a playlist for the vibe youre going for in your story, aids greatly in creating an atmosphere in your writing if youre translating the music in your ears), and turn your phones notifications off (ofc i leave on notifs for calls in case of emergencies, but i can answer my friends’ texts after my writing session). set a timer so you dont have to keep checking the time.

☥ don’t stop in the middle of your storytelling to check the thesaurus or dictionary. write out whatever word/phrase first came to mind and highlight it to come back to later to alter or replace it completely. you’re interrupted your creative flow and its difficult to come back to it when youre checking the thesaurus every five seconds. this hack was crucial to my ability to stay on task i promise you

☥ avoid sounding repetitive by using the same words close together. you’ll create a fuller story by adding to your vocabulary using the thesaurus.

☥ avoid listing actions, break them up with adverbs at the start of your sentences if you must, or description of things or the place your character is in, or explain the emotion your character is feeling or what that emotion is causing within your character. starting sentences over and over again with the character’s name or pronoun breaks up the flow for the reader.

☥ really try to finish your works in progress even if you think its bad, the challenge of it will help you practice and learn to overcome your own mind trying to hold you back

☥ if you dont like the direction your fic is going,,, and youre experiencing writer’s block:: cross out the most recent bit and take it in a new direction. “oh but indy!! i really have a certain goal in mind!!” great, find another way to get to it because youre blocking yourself from finishing this forcing yourself into a non entertaining corner. switch it up! challenge yourself. “but indy!! i really liked what i had for this scene!!” yea but youre blocked right? youre not writing anything else for this scene and you cant, right? if you like what you have for this scene (an action, a dialogue piece youre proud of, a plot twist) save it! use it for a different piece !

hope this helps you and others!

[sixthwater]

Hello! Due to a change in my life I've become quite busy, but I'll try and get some pacs out every once in a while. Also working on a few projects (with and without people), so look out for that! I've wanted to do this one for some weeks now, but it's just short messages that your guides or angels wanted to deliver to you, pretty straight-forward haha.

(Left → Right / Pile 1 → Pile 4)

Decks Used: Trickster's Journey, Tarot Familiars, Arcana of Astrology, featuring Sea Melodies & Language of Flowers

Disclaimer | Pinned | Tip Jar | Paid Readings

Pile One

Cards: X of Cups, The Lovers, Trickster Rx, II of Wands, IV of Swords, Ace of Wands, Ascendant, Pallas Athena

I can’t ignore the song that popped up. It reminded me of fan-art that a friend made decades ago for hxh; it was for the chimera ant arc from Killua’s ‘perspective’ and how, despite how much pain each side was going through, he would stay by his side as long as he could.

This pull is hinting at you being in a position of looking at your life and the possibilities ahead of you, but not authentically. Resembles someone quadruple checking their path or getting someone to tell them what to do with their life. The message here is not ‘just go out and live your life’ — while that is inherently true, it’s more along the lines to have a breather and take it day by day. They want you to find yourself, and through finding yourself you will find your path. I don’t know why I keep wanting to bring in The Magician, but this pile has undercurrents of its energy as well. It’s not so much manifestation, but it’s not giving up on your dreams or your desires — they’re on pause until you can figure yourself out. I wanted to cry as soon as Shake It Out started playing, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a lot of pent up frustration here. There is a rebirth coming for you guys, the timeline is going to be different for all of you. However you cant be born anew if you aren’t being authentic. Some advice/help might come from friends and family, but it’s all about exploring externally and internally. You might have been searching for this for quite some time...and honestly no amount of astrology or pick a cards will give you a definite answer, but spending time with yourself and figuring out what brings you joy will give you the direction that you need. You might be annoyed hearing this, but don’t rush the process and enjoy the ride, Sure Fire Winners is your end result after this frustrating trip.

Songs: Figure 8 – Ellie Goulding, Twin Machines – DBMK, What We Life For – American Authors, Shake It Out – Florence + The Machine

Pile Two

Cards: Death, VII of Wands, Wheel, III of Coins, Queen of Cups, VII of Wands, Eros, Pallas Athena, Third House

Interesting set of cards. I’m also having difficult describing your energy. You’re not being stubborn or combative, but you feel like people aren’t giving you the time of day or listening to you, which causes you to be stubborn or a solitary individual which makes people believe you’re not co-operative — is the best way I can describe it. A little of it feels reminiscent of being a push-over, but that’s sprinkled in?

Regardless, good news is on the way, but you have to meet it halfway. This is a learning experience for you, whatever it might be (work or higher learning). It’s definitely one of those lessons that will keep repeating until you learn it, so pay attention when it pops up. You need to sort what topics or issues you legitimately care about and refuse to budge on, and what can be sacrificed. This is a key element when working with others, because it’s a quality that is often balanced when dealing with others. People seek you out because you bring something to the table for them, but if you’re going to be stubborn or not shine to the point that they can simply find anyone, then you lose out. That’s where your double Seven of Wands comes in. This could manifest in people either questioning why they’re working with you, commissioning you, or you not budging for what you want to keep within a project. This could also be you proving some people wrong? Either way, it’s a message to stand your ground and not be overwhelmed by those trying to knock you down. There’s also a high chance that there will be a nurturing mentor to help you through this or they will give you some advice that you’ll carry with you long after this. With the owl staring at me on the Queen of Cups I’m moved to think this’ll be a figure that comes in. I think they’ll probably remind you of third house themes which is to balance listening as much as you’re talking. Sometimes what you’re so frustrated by or trying to figure out will be answered before you even have to ask it. Or maybe someone has a good idea that you haven’t thought of and you should give it a shot before brushing it off. The main message here is collaboration and working with people, knowing when to stand up for things and to just let things go, and becoming a new person after this. The skeleton in Death is holding an old skull and even on the Seven of Wands it’s a little chick that just hatched; there’s a lot of beginnings after this uncomfortable period but you will learn a lot about yourself and possibly learn a lot of new skills! (From all the songs, maybe this is your first job?)

Songs: Something Good Can Work – Two Door Cinema Club, It’s Time – Imagine Dragons

Pile Three

Cards: X of Swords, Page of Swords Rx, X of Wheel Rx, Empress Rx, Queen of Wands Rx, VII of Wands Rx, The Sun Rx, Mars, Waning Gibbous Moon, Eighth House

It’s pretty obvious where you are right now, so I’m not going to get into it — I don’t believe you want me rehashing it either. You are being urged to rebuild your confidence little by little and push for what you want in your situation. I think a good portion of this though is sharing how you feel. Being comfortable with expressing your emotions or your darker issues with others instead of trying to hold onto all of this. It doesn’t feel like a shadow trait, more like bad news/a situation, but you need to lean on someone to help you. I’ve been re-watching Regular Show and this is similar to the episode where Skips was ignoring his stress killing him and everyone had to force him to deal with it and let them help. Usually I see The Sun reversed as shining too bright to the point of exhaustion or just being a little gloomy but it’s resembling The Star reversed, which worries me. You just need to take it slow and work on yourself, but absolutely you need to rely on others and don’t feel like you’re too much or you’re not meeting standards that society or you set for yourself. We all need breaks or we all get tired, it’s impossible to be in top shape all the time, so give yourself some time to get back up there. Yes, sitting in your sadness is not helpful, but you need to be able to go through it’s motions so you know what you’re purging in the first place. I’m going to pull some more clear advice/upbeat cards for you guys:

Reflect, Optimism, Azalea, Jonquil

Reflect: Peer into the endless ocean and see what peers back  Optimism: After each rainstorm, there will be clear skies  Azalea, Temperance: Find balance and be centered  Jonquil, Power: Take hold of what you know is yours

Songs: Fall to Pieces – Avril Lavigne, Love Die Young – Eric Nam, Ain’t No Mountain High Enough – Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell, Grip! – Every Little Thing

Pile Four

Cards: VI of Wands, Strength Rx, IV of Wands, VII of Cups Rx, King of Pentacles, The Hierophant, Solar Eclipse, Chiron, Leo

Experiencing impostor syndrome right now, or not wanting the spotlight on you despite...accomplishing something worth celebrating honestly. I’m weirdly taking strength quite literally, like feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders and being crushed by it. The imagery looks as such and its between two celebratory cards — or ones that can show being celebrated or being in high regards in immediate surroundings. I know you want to, but don’t run back to a ‘shell’ or what’s safe. Try and make new safe spaces or make a routine to soothe yourself, because you should embrace your wins and take pride in what you did. I don’t know what you guys did, but more opportunities are coming your way, so embrace the new and change. It might keep coming or it might just be some fun new experiences for this time in your life. Make sure to tread carefully and whatever you say yes to; you want to say yes to. Don’t just agree to whatever. There are signs of looking for a community or mentor to lean on or stick by, and it’s encouraged as well. There’s a mix of taking on this new energy because it’ll be good for you or your future (experiences or just in general), and grounding yourself because you’re in a flight reflex right now. This might be due to a past scar, because the wolves look as if they’re protecting something but ready to hurt me, and I love wolves as well as this card. Either way, you should be celebrating with everyone else the milestone you accomplished, being mindful of your next steps, being open to change, and I’m wishing you the best.

Songs: When the Levee Breaks – A Perfect Circle, Raging (ft. Kodaline) – Kygo, Have Faith In Me – A Day To Remember

[mandomaya]

Episode 4 of Ahsoka has to be one of the best Star Wars episodes yet. I loved it from start to finish.

I mean right off the bat we have Ahsoka outside reminiscing something, which I haven't figured out yet, but I assume is probably her past.

There's the droid fight which honestly I found hilarious, I love watching droids fight so much its so funny to me.

Then Huyang told Sabine and Ahsoka that they're better off together, and it honestly reminded me of when Obi-Wan in the Clone Wars said that so long as they stick together, they'll be fine. Actually crying.

Then we have the duels, THE DUELS! Oh my god where do I even start. I love duels in Star Wars, they're by far my favourite part about it. It was so cool seeing how Sabine improved drastically since her last fight with Shin. And the way Baylan aggravated Ahsoka by mentioning Anakin and her past made the whole episode so much more emotional than it already was. I could see the pain in Ahsoka's eyes and the emotion behind her moves. It reminded me of Anakin a lot, and how much she takes from him and also when she duelled Vader on Malachor. She doesn't want to remember her past and her guilt caused by it, but Baylan knew how to get to her. And it shattered me in the best way.

And when I tell you I gasped when she got shoved off the cliff oh my god I'm not even joking, thought she was dead for a hot second before I realised it was a show about her.

And don't even get me started on the scene where Sabine hands the map over to Baylan. Baylan again is pushing all the right buttons to get right to her soft spot, and it worked. I loved the incredible amount of time it took Sabine to make the decision because, as an indecisive person, I get it. But also because she knows what she's about to do is wrong. She shouldn't have given the map over, and she should've destroyed it, and she knew that. But she wanted to save Ezra. Ezra was the one person left she could save, rather than fail. And she took the risk, despite what pain it could bring her, and Ahsoka.

And where do I even begin on the ending. There's no word good enough to describe it. First of all, when Ahsoka woke up in the World Between Worlds, I knew immediately that THAT was how she was going to get to Sabine. But what happened next, I did not expect.

ANAKIN APPEARED. AS ANAKIN, NOT VADER!! It made me so emotional the whiplash was unreal. The way he said "Hey Snips" almost exactly how Anakin in the Clone Wars said it, I literally cried. And I cannot even imagine how Ahsoka must feel because bare in mind, she last time she saw Anakin as Anakin and not Vader, was right before Order 66. And they never had a time to catch up. The last time Ahsoka saw Anakin as Vader, she thought she was responsible for what happened to him because she left him. Twice. She's had to live with that guilt for so long and seeing him like that must have been the biggest shock of her life. She spent the rest of her life trying to connect with Anakin but being met with a total darkness. In that moment, she saw him. Again. After 30 years.

Heartbreaking.

[femanthropy]

hello, have you ever spoken about your “lib fem to rad fem” pipeline as you described it?

I used to be a massive libfem, completely brainwashed. I was so close to having a sugar daddy, I applied to an adult modelling site that fetishised women like me (i sent it photos of me in lingerie to them and i was only 18, i have no idea where those photos ended up - it makes me feel like i’m about to have a panic attack), i believed in “be a slut do whatever you want”, i got totally eaten and spat out by hook up culture. I was extremely hyper sexual which led to more sexual trauma which led to further hyper sexuality and low self esteem (think of the image of the snake in a circle biting its own end)

i believed the “doing it for myself” bullshit when it came to being hyper feminine and spending £100s on nails and make up and heels. I was constantly dolled up, tottering around in heels everyday all day (to the point i have back and calf and feet issues even 10 years later). I used sex and male attention to validate myself and it was the only thing that made me feel better before making me feel even more empty and damaged and used and spat out. I was totally sold on “trans women are women” and every other lie sold by lib feminism and misogynists.

I was the perfect candidate for it all too because by the time i was 18, i had sexual and emotional trauma at the hands of men, i was lonely and my self esteem was shattered. my boyfriend had just cheated on me and i felt worthless and ugly. my dad abused my mum and i and he was addicted to porn - so i had no concept of healthy love and respect between a man and woman. i was desperate to be loved and wanted. I felt empty and wanted to feel whole. i wanted to be accepted. i was taught my value was in how i looked and how much i was desired. i’d never been liked or wanted by men (or even women) but once i’d started hyper femininity it all changed and everything combined was like blood to a shark - not sure if i’m the blood or the shark, maybe both.

I look back and i really did feel groomed by the patriarchy, men and lib “feminism”. I was vulnerable and wounded as the patriarchy and the men around me intended. I found false sisterhood in the women who believed in it too. I was the perfect target.

i’m not like that anymore and i don’t know anyone who had that same radicalisation. it begun in 2020 i think. i think i always knew underneath i was lying to myself and knew the reality but was in denial and afraid to wake up even though it was hurting me. i ended up in a relationship with a woman a few years ago which was like a bat to the head in regards to learning what sex, respect and love actually is and how you shouldn’t have to be constantly performing to be loved and respected by your partner (i.e pretending you aren’t hairy, pretending you don’t have needs, pretending not to have boundaries, playing the role of sexy childlike mother and maid who he can fuck - just pretending you aren’t a human!). after that the trans movement really started kicking off as did only fans and incel culture and that was it.

so i’m completely different now and i’m so grateful but boy am i left with lots of open and painful wounds i’m still to this day struggling to close. lots to forgive my younger self for and not punish. lots to let go of and heal. lots of rage turned inwards that i need to direct outwards.

anyways, my intention wasn’t to dump on you but share and connect. id love to hear your pipeline journey. sorry if this wasn’t grammatically correct or was a clumsy read, i’m on the train from work and am very tired :)

Hey! (Feel free to DM me if you feel comfortable cause there’s a LOT to say about this. But first off, I’m sorry to hear of the abuse you endured 🫂 I hope that your journey has been healing and you don’t think that any of it was your fault.

Honestly, I started to feel disillusioned by liberal feminism because of mainly two reasons. (At least these were points in which I felt hey. This is really harmful and actively going to put feminism backwards if libfems keep pushing it) (I had been already vocal and supportive of women’s rights outside of mainly first world countries, so I’m not including stuff I had actively been advocating for before, such as anti misogyny in religion, my criticism of women’s healthcare being understudied and also that a lot of diagnosies, tests, safety features had been designed with men in mind.)

The first reason was “bimbo” feminism. That seems like a silly answer but it really sort of got me to start seeing the movement was eating itself. TikTok especially I saw many women portraying and posting themselves as essentially “dumb blondes” and presenting (let’s be honest unfortunately) very sexual and stereotypical. The whole “when women won us the freedom to have a job now I work as a cashier as a supermarket instead of (another stereotypical reference of some sort, implying they are dumb). Then “girl dinner” came along and I was like hm.

Another one ofc was the transgender movement, moreso transgender women. I started to see on tiktok a few of these trans identified men claim to have periods/menstruate. The way they were adamant and shot everyone down who pointed out it was not possible, soon a lot of TRA and more “chronically online” trans identified men were now making the fact transwomen menstruate an Actual Scientific Undisputed Fact. Later I saw a bunch of “hormones change your sex and your dna” but that was less popular of a take.

And then I came across the “passing” issue. I saw trans identified men, with beards, with AGP style makeup make their way into women’s restrooms via force and threats. I then thought. Well why do I think that “passing TIMs should have access and not this grotesque specimen with clearly autogynophilia in. (Mind you I was still the TWAW crowd at the time. Then I felt guilty for thinking “passing matters” and realised that any criticism of TRA lead to ostracism and social outcasting. EVEN if the criticism or merely question was in good faith.

(Another note is I always believed that transgender people had to have gender dysphoria and then that was passed off as “transphobic” too and I was like 🧐🧐🧐)

Then i started to “hate read” these “terf” blogs. I felt even more shitty because I agreed with them about everything. Including about TRA and slowly realised the sinister part of the movement. That they were actually eroding women’s protections as an oppressed group in favour of transgender rights, such as single sex spaces. That trans women had to be “centred in feminism because they are the most oppressed of the oppressed ever and were “silenced for so long”). And that “cis” lesbians had to all of a sudden be enthusiastic and accepting of penises or else they were transphobic. (Plus they didn’t come down nearly as hard on heterosexual men. Which of course is. Because they weren’t women.)

And all the time I’m discovering inconsistencies in the movement. More research of gender affirming care clearly indicating many devastating side effects. The CASS review. The specific demographics of people transitioning (young girls in middle school/high school) vs many a case, a much older man who was married and had kids and the like.

Those are the bigger reasons. As I said, I was already an advocate for rights of women subject to brutal and oppressive misogyny overall, TRA just. Creeped in. And feminism was being redefined and commercialised and catered to men).

Again, thank you so much and feel free to DM me anytime if you’re comfy cause I do love a good chat about liberal feminism. 🩵 take care

[navxry]

Rate your friends

.

well damn alright fine LMAO

My mutuals from discord and/or Tumblr (utc cause the post is LONG)

Carmine: def a 100/10 if I have to be honest. They dealt with me SO much and my absolute nonsense as well since 2020, no words can describe how much I appreciate them for being there with me in my highest and lowest of my era. I also love terrorizing them with my muses (Lyney simp in denial), and I dont regret at all meeting and befriending them. Love you bestie <3 /p

Ryan: also a 100/10, I genuinely owe him a lot for helping me realize just. how certain things in life isn't 'normal' and fueling my brainrot/s so much. We both had so much to talk abt during the 3 years I've known him (and we're still friends to this day!), and Goddamn do I enjoy playing games w/ him and esp abt our current hyperfixations (Persona and Raincode. I still want to rattle your Yuma bot you little shit /t)

Esther (@mixed-kester) : I just met you like months ago when I first joined astronetwrk, and tbh I genuinely am v happy to have met you and enabled you BAHAHAHAHA I've been friends with her for a while but its so fun just going through the plot + AUs, and also going through pain (and making me go through a crisis with enabling and "NO YOU DID SO MUCH FOR ME" "NO, I DIDNT" LMAOOOO). Yeah, there were times when we both have our disagreements, but I genuinely could never ask for a better friend to yell at Tinuvion/Kunimitsu and the rarepare between Wanderer and Kaeya than her.

Meirin (@meimeimeirin) : I'LL SAY THIS ONCE AND I'LL SAY IT AGAIN: You are so cool and amazing and I'm so amazed with how you deal with my nonsense. I never saw an opportunity to talk to you outside of being on anon back then, and I genuinely thought that it won't be possible, but when EBG happened? I saw it and took it. You were so so so enjoyable to talk to, to rant about the entire event, and even after that, I enjoyed talking to you about even your simping with Zhongli and Alhaitham! I also enjoy bouncing off ideas with our threads (even if I have them on hold, I swear I'll reply to them orz). You're the sweetest person I've known and I am so, so glad to have met you and got to know you as a friend ;v; you also inspired me in writing for Genshin and for my faves, and for also sharing my thoughts on my sona and my selfships. I know you're busy but I hope you can see this because I genuinely appreciate you /pos

Yami (@pastel-rights) : YOU'RE SUCH A GOOD ARTIST WHAT THE HELL— honestly, how the fuck do you deal with me, Sam and Tae? (/lh) like I genuinely am so surprised I'm actually friends w/ you, but in a good way because you are?? So cool?? I swear I sometimes admire your art and when I say I wanna eat it, I would. You're such a good friend and I wish we can talk more fr

Tae (@nice-chiaki) : My first victim (/j), but really, I am in awe that I've met you in the mun's corner. I saw your blog with Itha and I genuinely loved interacting with him— your muse of him helped a lot in bringing me out of my idv writer's block slump because I had no ideas and ooooh, genuinely having you on vc and hearing/seeing you go through your cycles and bs with Sam and Yami (and Fifi as well) is the funniest thing. I also hate you (/exag) for the fandubs, and you making me go through a huge moment with Andrew and Cro. 0/10 wont recommend voicing villains (/j /j)

Sam (@paperbcy) : You are the biggest menace I know, and tbh I wonder if you're like a mirror to my menace self /j, but I'm kidding BAHAHAHAHA. I dont regret enabling you so much for your immorphy AU and our own shared AUs, and I sometimes wonder what would happen if I hadn't met you, Tae and Yami. Also, do not pull Father on my inbox ty

Fifi (@fffiii) : You dealt with my ass for years and I honestly question how you're still sane BAHAHAHAHA, but fr, even till now we're still together from 2016 - 2017(?) and I cannot stop but wonder how long it's been. It was v fun just looking back on our days at Q and even now, and I still appreciate you for everything even if you're a bigger menace than me.

Shiro (@leftdestiny-posts) : We may not talk as much or as often, but you are so kind and ouuuu you make me ;-; honestly. I am v thankful for you in dealing with my brainrot over TCO (which! I plan on revisiting and reviving as a long drawn series haha), and I hope that we talk more often when you have the time (ofc, no pressure!)

Ying (@yinyinggie) : OOOOH YOU'RE SO SWEET AND LUCIEN/YUZU TOO LIKE AUGHHH, I genuinely love you both as mods in astronetwrk AND outside of it. I genuinely appreciate you as a mod and a friend in keeping the server together and hosting games for us, and even when those went awry (read: the mafia game), you and the others made sure we had fun anyway and prioritized our comfort, which is so?? sweet??? I genuinely wish I can hug you and I wish we can speak more orz ily /p

There are more but I can't remember them all so o7 o/ hope this is enough anon

[forlorn-crows]

Sorry i'm so late to this response, but the reasonings behind these hozier songs for mounty!! while these are all love songs (and listen, side note, doing this annotation made me realize, holy fuck, all of these are mtndew songs, someone call kroas) im viewing them, for strictly mountain purposes, as his love for the earth and his element. i can go even DEEPER in analysis on how they're mtndew songs, but for the time being, here's my current annotations.

Wasteland, Baby!: It's a song about romanticizing the end of the world!!! That's adorable!!! i view it more as mountain loving the earth despite its flaws- dirt boys a big softie :) "Wasteland, baby, I'm in love, I'm in love with you" and "And I love too, That love soon might end"

Shrike: Because of how people portray Mountain as quiet and timid, so "I couldn't utter my love when it counted" and "I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted". Also a shrike (a type of bird) and he's an earth ghoul, so the line "As the shrike to your sharp, And glorious thorn" works- it's just a little love song (all of hozier songs are)

NFWMB: this is a lot like Wasteland, Baby! where, while it's a love song, it's about mountains love for the earth :) "Nothing fucks with my baby, Nothing can get a look in on my baby" nothing is fucking with mother earth!!! he is protecting her!!! i love him sm :)))

Sunlight: i imagine, as an earth ghoul, mountain would've absolutely adored being on the surface, and ESPECIALLY adored the sun. that's his girlfriend you guys, he loves that flaming star up there. "On first and fierce affirming sight, Of sunlight, sunlight, sunlight" He saw that sun and was like "holy shit.". "Each day, you'd rise with me" He wakes up early to watch the sun rise and greets it with a little good morning, prove me wrong.

Movement: (this song actually reminds me more of rain) "So move me, baby, Shake like the bough of a willow tree" i read that line and thought "Oh yeah, mountain would love that" but it's totally a Rain song, so i apologize.

Run: THIS. SONG. IT IS LITERALLY ABOUT THE EARTH BEING DESCRIBED AS AN ETHEREAL BEING BUT ALSO HAVING A RIGID PERSONALITY. It is literally about the earth and the sea being a married couple, what more do i need to say, mountain eats that right up.

In the Woods Somewhere: I imagine this would be a more primal version of Mountain, but it still shows compassion in a way? it's about losing a lover in the forest, but it's also about running from a monster? so? im thinking primal ghouls, you tell me. I also like the lines about the fox, "A fox it was / He shook, afraid / I spoke no words, no sound he made / His bone exposed / His hind was lame / I raised a stone to end his pain" it's just showing that he's still an earth ghoul even when he's seemed to lose humanity.

In a Week: IT'S ABOUT DECAYING WITH A LOVER??? NEED I SAY MORE?? "I have never known peace, Like the damp grass that yields to me" & "We lay here for years or for hours / Thrown here or found / To freeze or to thaw / So long we become the flowers" & "After the insects have made their claim / I'd be home with you / I'd be home with you" DO I NEED TO EXPLAIN MORE

Be: I have no real reason behind this one, i just like the idea of mountain witnessing global warming and extinction and just getting really sad, so the lines "Be, be, be, be, be / Be as you've always been" is just him wanting the earth to revert back to being healthy and natural.

That's my take! I'm not a huge fan honestly, after I realized how mtndew centric these songs were, my focus shifted and it's all I could think about :// but here we are!! I hope you enjoyed my rambling, and thank you for letting me do so <3

-🖤

heart. heart. thank you for this. i loved reading all your explanations!

i love this idea of mountain's relationship with his element and the earth itself. i think he would hold such reverence for mother earth and sorrow for the changes humans have caused.

"If I was born as a blackthorn tree / I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you / Fuel the pyre of your enemies" like that is mountain to the core (and the stanza following this just hits mountaindew SO hard).

i would love to know your thoughts on any mumford and sons songs, if you're a fan. been listening to them again and haven't had one jump out at me yet, but they, like hozier, have so many well-written lyrics im sure there's something. only if ya want.

[feelingthedisaster]

Letter ask game: P, R, Z

(i mixed fandoms a lot hehe sorry)

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

hmmmm, i said it before, but (both for aftg) scaloneta au (like, i dont even need to say who is who bc if you know, you know) and good will hunting au (like, andrew is will, betsy the therapist i forgot the name, etc, its perfect)

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

I LOVE FRIENDSHIPS AND PLATONIC PAIRINGS!!!! honestly, prefer them over romantic. hmmmm, kinda hard to pick one. literally all the platonic relationships the marauders era had to offer from my time back in the marauders fandom. also i having brainrot for platonic jeanneil right now and the foxes in general. aaron&normal med guy who has is like, regular guy, doesnt have a name in my head, but its probably something boring like john or mary

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

dean winchester. song: freeze your brain, heathers (he would kill me if i make him listen to it, but but, its the most dean winchester song to ever exist) like

"does your mommy know you eat all that crap?" and then it countinues "no, when mom was alive we live halfway normal, now it just me and my dad, we're less formal" like?????? dean ghostwrote that. them having a normal life before mary died, then everything went to crap and they got into hunting

(litte disclaimer before the next one: i know the characters in the song are romantic, but i dont mean it as romantic here, this isnt wincest, do what you like but this isnt that ) the line "you are planning your future, veronica sawyer, you'll go to some college and marry a lawyer, but the sky is gonna hurts when it falls" is literally sam going to stanford

"i learned to cook pasta, i learned to pay rent, learned the world doesnt owe a cent" child/teen dean winchester parentified in a few words.

"ive been through ten highschools, they start to get blurry, there is not point planting roots cause you are gone in a hurry" living on the road, his entire life?

"get lost in the pain, happiness comes when everything numbs" hunters helper?

"shatter your skull" do i even need to?

"fight pain with more pain, forget who you are, unburden your load, forget in six weeks and you'll be back in the road" literally described dean winchester

[criticalsucc]

9, 13, 58, 61, 62, 73 ?

😊💛💖

9: Describe your perfect mate

Someone who is smart, patient, compassionate, understanding, non-judgemental. Someone who knows themselves well and who knows what they want. Someone who can think deeply about complex concepts, but who can also be silly and ridiculous. Someone who is quirky and maybe a bit eccentric, but also knows how to stay grounded when it's appropriate. Someone who has something new to show me and finds joy in sharing it with me. Someone who can express themselves well and make their thoughts and feelings clear. Someone who loves sex and isn't shy about it. Someone who gives love and affection easily. Someone who makes it clear they want me in their life.

Also, absolutely stunning eyes. I wanna feel like I'm descending into some kind of tripped out fantasy realm whenever she looks at me. I want to see the void and I want to see the stars when we make eye contact. When I catch her gaze I want to feel like I've discovered a secret humans were never meant to know, but it's too late to back out now. I want to be captivated and mesmerized and completely disarmed in her sight. I want her to make me feel like she unravels the very fiber of my being with but a simple flick of the eye.

How did I just write an entire paragraph about your eyes lol

13: Do you get jealous easily?

I'll say no, but it also depends on context. It's about what our dynamic is and how my partner treats me. I will not say I'm immune to jealousy. But to get jealous I would have to feel like I'm not being treated fairly, or that I'm being used, like my potential partner is flippant with their affections and not being clear with me where we stand while also flaunting the fact that they are putting the moves on someone else. But that's what I've found to be really freeing about the idea of polyamory, that I can have a partner that will continue to choose me even when they have also chosen others. To feel like I'm just as important as anyone else (which obviously takes work and doesn't just happen on its own, but we are assuming the relationship is a good healthy one here). Then it's much easier to not be jealous.

58: What are five ways to win your heart?

Make me feel safe. I have a lot of insecurities left over from past experiences so I can sometimes be a bit guarded. But if you make me feel safe enough to drop that guard, I will like you a lot.

Make your feelings clear. I don't want to have to guess about the way someone feels about me. And I'm not always good at picking up on cues. I need verbiage.

Be consistent. I've got a lot of pain left over from people with fickle feelings. Show me and remind me that your interest in me is clear and will not blow away with the wind.

Give me passion. Make me feel like a prize. When you notice me struggling with self-doubt, reassure me that you want me because I'm oh so very wantable.

Go deeper than the surface. I hate to use the Shrek metaphor but I'm an onion. I have a lot of layers. I need someone who wants to cut through them all and welcomes the tears that may follow (probably my tears from being Seen lol).

61: What is the first thing you notice in someone?

Physically, I'm going to have to be cliché and say eyes 😂 Or hair maybe.

For personality, something that makes me think I might be compatible with someone would be earnestness. Just how ready are you to be open and honest about your feelings?

62: What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?

Honestly, talk me through an orgasm while I'm fucking them. Just like, tell me you want it. Make me feel like it's something you need from me. Hold onto me and say "cum for me" when I'm at climax. Just typing it out is causing movement in my underwear 😅

73: What’s something sweet you’d like someone to do for you?

Honestly just tell me you want to spend time with me. I've never been on a romantic date though. So I'd love to be taken on a date.

Thank you so much for these lovely questions Stardust 😊♥️💜💛💖

[namine-somebodies-nobody]

Hello!

May i ask ✨ 🧺 🌙 for the emoji ask game? Thank you, I hope you have a good day!

Thank you for the ask!

✨: what scents do you have strong memories/associations with?

I have quite a few, but I'll narrow it down to the 2 scents that hit me the strongest.

The first is a particular perfume. Its actually quite an old scent called Wind Song. It has a very bright, clean, but distinct scent. My granny use to wear it and it was so strong that her entire house would just fill up with it. Smelling that scent always brings me back to young childhood for me. Sunny days running through the hanging laundry on the line in the yard. Hot Summer mornings spent in the pool at her house. Snuggling on her bed after getting out of the pool and watching tv together as she ran her fingernails through my hair to untangle the knots. When I smell that scent it gives me such a feeling of safety and comfort. Occasionally it will cause me to hurt as well though, as my granny has been gone for more than 20 years.

The second one is the smell of Earth... almost decaying and the turning of seasons. The deep smell of moist leaves and crisp air in Autumn. It is my favorite time of the year and has been since I was a kid. It makes makes me think of chilly, rainy days where I would sit in my bedroom with the window open as I watched the rain cover my backyard. My dad making my sister an I hot chocolate to drink by the fireplace. Carving pumpkins, warm sunny days with a cool breeze to play in. And it always meant that my birthday was close, lol. When I smell that scent it reminds me of home. I am always the happiest in the fall.

🧺: describe your perfect picnic, or why you don’t like them if you don’t?

Picnics in the fall are the best! As I stated above, that is my favorite season. Plus I think its the best season for avoiding bugs at a picnic (I am not a fan of creepy crawly things.) To make it perfect, it would have to be on a sunny day, where is isn't too warm and there is a nice occasional breeze. A comfy blanket set out on a grassy spot overlooking the woods, so that we can hear the leaves rustling and falling in the wind, and that we can take a walk in the woods when were done.

I am not too picky or particular with the food. Something light and easy to clean up. A basic charcuterie board type spread would be the best. With extra sweets added...cookies...brownies...donuts...muffins (I love sweet things!) Laying on the blanket and cloud watching or reading a book and light conversation would make the day absolutely divine.

🌙: what’s your least favourite thing to do in your least favourite season?

My least favorite season is Winter. Its only saving grace is that it has Christmas, as that's my favorite holiday. But other than that I am usually pretty miserable. My least favorite thing in Winter would be honestly anything outside. I do not like the cold or snow. I will go out for the sake of my kiddos to do all of our yearly holiday traditions, but other than that I try to stay inside.

I do not do well in the cold (I have chronic pain and autoimmune issues that get worse in the cold.) So I spend most of that season in a lot of pain. It might sound silly, but I am a person who lives by the sun and moon, and during that time of year both are rarely seen. I need that sun to energize my day and make me feel warm. And even at night I feel like the clouds that cover the sky and moon by default, take something away as well. I usually struggle with my anxiety and depression the most that time of year as well.

Sorry that this got so long. Thank you again for the ask!

[aries-007]

Honestly, my beliefs on the paranormal are really weird.

Like, I firmly believe in it, but in a way that might be... unconventional? I guess?

Basically, I feel like ghosts are kinda bs. Spirits on the other hand? Definitely. Spirits exist. Angels? Prolly not. Demons? Who's to say. Haunting? Yes, some places can definitely be more spiritually active than others, and this could prolly lead to hauntings.

I feel like there's three main parts to a person: the body (physical part), the soul (the conscious), and the spirit (this attaches the soul and the body). My thought is the body is basically a suit to get you from place to place, the soul is what gives you consciousness, and the spirit is what gives you your attitude -- the spirit is basically what makes you you.

Some people have more sensitive spirits, others have stronger ones. Some have weaker spirits. (Not like physical strength. It's just not as pronounced. Or it's calmer? I guess?) Other spirits are more wild, or untamed, others are chill.

Basically, the vibes you get off of someone when you first meet them. Some people just feel a certain way, and that's that.

[slight tangent] I feel like I should mention: I’m not religious. If anything I’m agnostic. That being said, I feel like if there's anything it would be some type of polytheism. One being just shouldn't be able to control absolutely everything.

Getting back to the spirit thing though. The way I see death is that the body dies, the spirit "detaches" (goes away?), and the soul leaves. Not necessarily in that order, but whatever.

--

Sometimes, the spirit doesn't go away. It might be fragmented, faded, or it's there in its entirety. When this happens, you get a bit of a "ghost".

I prefer the term "spirit" to describe these things, but I don't wanna make things even more confusing.

I believe these "ghosts" are fairly common. I feel like they (normally) sort of wander around. Sometimes they might congregate in a place with greater spiritual power, or in a place where there's already a lot of other spirits, or maybe they just like how a place feels; regardless, this congregation essentially leads to a haunting.

Sometimes, they get stuck somewhere (place of death), or on something (object). This could be caused by a violent death, or regrets, or what have you.

Of course, the spirit could've also just been wandering around and gotten stuck somewhere. Kinda like a "I fell in a hole" type of thing.

--

Much like how different people have different vibes, so to do spirits. Some are shy, some are childlike, others are mean or dark. Some feel 'good', while others have a generally 'bad' feeling to them. Others even have no feeling to them other than their presence (imo, these ones can be a bit unnerving. Like that feeling that you're being watched).

Currently, the house I’m living in has 4-6 spirits.

(I live in a house with 2 stories, a basement, and an attic)

One in the upstairs hallway

One on the staircase between the 1st and 2nd floor

One in the upstairs bathroom (not the master bath)

There might also be another fucking with our electronics now that I think about it.

There's definitely something in the attic, and there might be another in the basement. Possibly one on the 1st floor (but that could just be the basement one).

\/ A map of my upstairs spirits \/

To describe them:

Basement/1st floor:

This spirit has a very mild/neutral presence. Mostly it just gives me a feeling of being watched, or just that feeling that there's something there/in the room. That's all I can really say about it.

Staircase:

This one's been here for at least 10 years. They're a bit on the smaller side, very lanky. I get the idea of long, spindly limbs and sharp teeth and nails. It is quite fast and nimble.

I think of this one as 'the Anklebiter'. It likes to chase you up the stairs and try to claw at your ankles. I get a vaguely bad, somewhat oppresisive, feeling from it. It's playing, but it wants to cause pain. It's definitely some sort of malicious spirit. It likes it when people are afraid, and it prefers when it is the thing causing that fear.

It works in tandem with the thing upstairs.

I think it has some type of aversion to cats. During the night, our previous cat would sit at the top of the stairs while we were all asleep. Like she was guarding us. Our new cat (who never met the previous one) has taken to doing a similar thing.

Upstairs hallway:

This one. Right here... I really don't like this one. At all. I get a more masculine feeling from him. He's big. Bulky. It feels like he wants to hurt me.

He's big, mean, and imposing. Pretty intimidating too. In general; rather malevolent, very dark.

Normally he lingers in the hall, on the side of the staircase that is closer to my parents room. When I'm going down the stairs, he lurks at the top of the staircase. Sometimes, if you're standing at the bottom of the stairs, he's there at the top.

This one is one of the two (2) spirits in my house that actually scares me. (The other one being whatever's in the attic).

I’m pretty sure he bullies Kade (see bathroom spirit).

My bathroom:

This one's a smol bean. He's the entire reason I know not all spirits are bad. I call him Kade in my head.

Kade is a more recent resident of the house, he's been here since around 2016. I was actually taking a shower when he popped in; gave me quite a fright too. I was facing the shower head, rinsing my hair, when all of a sudden there were chills down my spine and I KNEW there was something in there with me. I shut off the water, grabbed a towel, and bolted to my room.

Since then, I've come to realize he's just a shy bean. He's pretty emotionally intense, and I’m pretty sure the bit in the shower was us scaring each other (he spooked me, I scared him, his emotions rubbed off on me, vicious cycle type of shit).

Additionally, I’m almost certain the Hallway fucker bullies Kade, and that's why he stays in the bathroom.

Kade normally chills in the corner of my bathtub. He's incredibly shy, and normally hides when someone enters the room. He still watches you, but it feels more like a scared kid, trying to figure out if you're gonna try to hurt him.

The attic:

I’m not really sure what this one is. All I really know is that since before we moved in, I get really bad vibes from the attic. Worse than the hallway spirit. Bad enough that I'd call it something like dread. There's a little crawl space area in the master bathroom, and I get similar feelings from it- just less intense.

The Electronics One:

This may or may not be a spirit. There's also a possibility that some activities are caused by the Basement spirit. I’m honestly not sure. This came to me as I was writing this post.

Essentially: our house has a lot of electronics. It also has problems with some of said electronics. Most notably there are issues with the Thermostat, the Router, and the TV...

For the Thermostat, it will sometimes change the temperature at random. Yes, this is a smart thermostat. It has a schedule for what temp to set at what time. Sometimes, the thermostat will set the temperature to be a fair bit colder than it is supposed to be- even according to the schedule. (Ex: it was set to 75*f by Mom. Schedule said it was supposed to be 75*f. Thermostat was set to 65*f.)

The Router is just a little bit garbage. When Dad got it he said it was supposed to improve our internet connection and make it less likely to disconnect from the internet (not that we were having any issues with that at that point). This new router will disconnect from the internet 5+ times in a week. I’m not sure wether this is a spirit or just a crappy router, but it is annoying.

Our TV makes a specific noise when it turns on- a sort of click. This noise definitely comes from the tv. There is nothing else in the house that makes that noise, and it only happens when the TV is turned on. Sometimes, the TV will make that noise while it is off. Nobody is near the remote, nobody is near the TV, it doesn't even turn on, it just makes the noise. This has happened many times. One of those times though, this happened and the TV actually turned on. This has only happened once. Mom was in the room with me and she saw it happen too (she thinks ghosts are total bogus). Neither of us had the remote, we didn't even know where it was at the time. We soon found it and turned the tv off.

[lisxdumbr]

hi hi hi!! its the same anon who fell in love with your analysis :> the full translation of mirage is not out yet but what do you think about yuutas deep insecurities and the way he feels like the "worst child" out of the two oh and his kinda alarming coping mechanism of drowning in spice and how his and hinatas colour is the same with different texture and hinatas color is described as sad and lonely and- explodes

HIIII oh em gee, I have to read a proper tl of mirage, you reminded me that,, (I think a tlr I know is working on it?) I ACTUALLY skimmed through it in the morning!! but I didn't pay much attention to it because I'm still crying,, (75 pulls. clenches fist)

ANYWAY. the things you described have been seen before so, ahem, allow me.

Another 2wink ramble ★

Yuta's inferiority complex comes from his childhood experiences, you know, how he was always the small brother who needs to be "protected". Obviously this causes a disconnection in his brain, he sees himself as a person, a teen, who's the same age as Hinata, but the way people treat him are the total opposite. Yuu has an identity crisis derivated from this, that's why he's always trying to differentiate himself from Hina, he just wants a confirmation of who he really is.

This is actually funny (it isn't. It's sad actually, heartbreaking) but both of the twins have identity crisis in total opposite poles. Yuta wants to be his own person so he wants to get separated from Hinata, while Hinata isn't sure of who he actually is, so he needs to stick to Yuta to understand himself more. The painful thing about this is that,, what one of them needs is what damages the other, like opposite poles, they have a lot going on between them.

Yuu repressing his feelings is one of my favorite subjects actually!! Fun fact, I used to study psychology before so I know a bit about this. The reason why he's permanently angry is because he doesn't know how to manage his emotions properly. He never speaks about himself and we constantly see this in a lot of stories (how many times have we seen him having deprecative thoughts but not venting them towards anyone or only whispering them?). Imagine Yuta is a pressure cooker; his anger would be the amount of heat stored inside the pot, now, what happens when a pressure cooker can't vent the vapor properly? It explodes (and it's terrifying honestly) so they have to vent little amounts of vapor to control the pressure. Yuta is exactly this, he vents little amounts of constant anger to repress the actual boiling mess going on inside him. The fact that one of his insane conducts is hurting himself with spice is so,, interesting; he copes by hurting himself with the thing he loves the most. Pain is a way of repression but the thing causing that pain is what he claims to love (isn't it philosophical, even?).

Now Hinata is a different subject, as I said, Hina goes through a lot of identity crisis too, but he's more,, cautious hiding his feelings. Hina doesn't need to behave as a boiling pot, Hina is basically freezing. Permanently quiet, immovable until his feelings go numb (to make a physical analogy). Sora is obviously able to see through this, that's why Hinata has said before "when everyone asks me if I'm ok, it's easy to smile to them and answer, but when Sora asked me if I was happy... I couldn't lie to that child".

Hinata is,, going through a lot, Yuta has already revealed himself a little in the main story but Hinata lacks this development, I really hope he finds something or someone who's able to free him from that mess, he deserves to be happy too.

[minsyal]

The Fugitive: Finding Home, Pt. 2

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

The Fugitive: Finding Home Masterlist

Part 1 - The Beginning

“Mother Miranda, I’ve been requesting new maids for at least six months to this day.”

“That’s because you keep eating your other ones.”

You were shaken awake.

“I think that my castle would be best suited for her.”

“Oh, so you can bleed ‘er dry? You think that would really be the best use of anyone’s time?” A familiar voice retorted.

“Good morning!” A shrill voice squeaked as what felt like wood kicked at your face. “She’s up! She’s up! She’s up!” It exclaimed excitedly with a bounce, the voice became softer as the skittering of feet scrambled away.

“Ah,” the unfamiliar smooth woman’s voice cooed as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. There were what looked to be six figures in the room. Miranda stood before you, perched upon a stage-like area that once housed what you could only imagine was a priest or preacher. To the left sat a cloaked woman with a blob of white resting in her lap. Another woman, also adorned in a white garb, sat towering over the rest, the light constant trickle of smoke danced upward from her vintage cigarette holder. On your right sat a familiar face, the man from the village who had saved you only a few hours prior. You’d come to know him as Lord Heisenberg. He maintained the large woman’s gaze, but the look held no love or any remote sense of familial belonging. Instead, his eyes were set ablaze, even behind the shaded rims of his glasses. Lastly, a shorter creature with a large hunched back moved ungracefully around. Its long gangly arms accompanied by its deformed face only aided in the growing unease.

The dull ache of your shoulder only distracted you from the bindings of your wrists for a moment. Your attention was quickly drawn to the rough ropes that dug their thorny threads into the soft skin of your wrists. Everything ached, mentally and physically.

“I do think she would be best suited with me.” The tall woman repeated herself. “There’s no doubt Moreau wouldn’t be able to handle her, and likely not the rest of you either.”

The hunched creature whirled back, throwing a forlornly glare in the woman’s direction. You supposed that was Moreau.

“You think I couldn’t handle her?” Heisenberg shot back, bent forward to rest his weight on his heels. His relationship with the large woman was clearly tumultuous given his outburst and her subsequent reaction.

“You always get them.” The shrill voice called. It was the doll; the fucking doll was talking... not that this should surprise you at this point. “She should come with us! We need more friends.”

“You’re not included in this conversation.” The tall woman mocked with a fierce glare shot violently at the doll as its mouth hung slack.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Thus far, nobody had managed to answer your simple question. The lot turned toward you, the majority with piercing stares. “Guess not.” You muttered, becoming quite fed up with the range of emotions you had been experiencing over the past day. If it kept going in this direction, you’d surely have to be treated for whiplash.

“She’s already proven to be a considerable pain in my neck.” Miranda loudly projected. Her steps were a clear juxtaposition to her tone, falling light on the church floor as she approached. “One villager is unable to walk, another dead.”

“Dead?” The words fell before you could stop yourself. She didn’t answer.

“Please,” Heisenberg leaned back once more, his hand moving to the interior of his jacket, “the dumb thing practically laid down when she was attacked by a lycan.” His fingers fumbled around the darkened paper of a cigar. Yellow, blonde streaks flashed upon his face as the distinguishable clink of a metal lighter was flicked. “I wouldn’t call that too capable.”

“My friend pushed me.” You argued, once again mentally reeling for the outburst.

Heisenberg let out a huff of smoke, intentionally blowing it in the tall woman’s direction, “sounds like a piss poor friend.”

“Enough.” Miranda had taken to her spot at the front near the alter once more. “The girl shall go to Alcina.”

A wicked smile crossed the tall woman’s face. “Thank you, Mother Miranda. It is so good to have you back.”

“Where are you from?” One of the girls ushered you through the depths of the castle. She wore a simple gown with stitches at the bottom, holding together the frail fabric that looked to be decades old.

“America.”

The girl cocked her head to the side like a newborn. “I don’t know of that town.”

Upon arrival you were escorted down to what was described as the maids’ chambers. In a small stone room, you were assigned a cot, given a chest, and told to change into uniform. Your arm ached and spasmed as you lifted the lid of the trunk open. Somewhere between being shot by the villagers and being transported to Castle Dimitrescu, the bullet was removed from your shoulder and replaced with gauze that limited the mobility of your arm. The distinct oily feeling of grease caused friction between the bandages and your clothes; the ache of alcohol still stung, causing a sore numbness.

The Lady insisted all maids conform to the strict code of dress. Long, unflattering dresses, short heels, and sometimes a headscarf if hair wasn’t pulled tautly into a bun at the base of one’s neck were a few things to name the least. You always wore the headscarf, which was a thin piece of grey lace that attached at the peak of your hairline, cascading over your shoulders to land at waist-length.

The rest of the day passed slowly. You learned the ins and outs of the castle, became acquainted with the sparse staff that only consisted of women, and met Alcina’s daughters from a distance. The next two weeks passed the same way.

Wake up, clean the castle, serve Lady and her daughters, go to bed. That was your routine. Though, the sounds that seeped from the halls at night prompted unwavering curiosity. Heisenberg had mentioned the ill-fated maids that had the luxury of serving the Dimitrescu women back in that church. Nothing at this point had you doubting that was the case. But you assured yourself daily that you would not accept the castle’s fate; you would get out of here one way or another.

You had only been at the mercy of Lady Dimitrescu once to this day. A small spat broke out between maids and the arrival of the head of house had the women squealing lies of how you were the one to start it.

“She stole our rations!” The girl with the wide nose accused her chubby finger outstretched in your direction.

“I didn’t steal anything, you dirty fucking liar.”

“She did. We were squabbling over how she should be punished.” The other girl replied, tucking a shaking hand behind her back as she straightened her poor posture.

“A thief,” Alcina regarded you, “that’s a shame.” Knives skid across the thin skin of your forearm. “Another outburst like this and there will be harsher consequences.” Red stained her tongue as she ran the claw through her cherry-red lips.

As she sauntered down the hall and out of sight, you uncurled your arm from your chest, wincing at the large crimson stain it left on your dress.

“Fresh face.” The words ricocheted off the wall in front of you. Footsteps steadfastly approached from behind. He walked with an effortless swagger, legs slightly bowed with each lyrical step. You’d gone for the quiet route after the situation, finding that silence often pleased those that ruled over the castle. “Here I was thinkin’ it would take you a little longer to lose that fight.” He stepped closer; the unmissable smell of tobacco seeped from his lips. “Looks like I was wrong.”

Instead of words, you held his gaze through unimpressed eyes. Hues of yellows, greys, and greens met yours from beneath his rounded glasses. You could see more of him from here. A large scar ran from the right of his face to the left, the lifted skin healing over leaving memories of whatever had happened. In fact, the majority of his face was plagued with scars. One ran from the bottom of his lip down to his chin, disappearing beneath the stubble of his beard. You wondered if his disdain toward Alcina was founded by those wretched claws of hers. His hair was wirey with shades of brown and peppered grey streaking through the ends. Quite honestly, he was an attractive man.

“I’ve got a name, you know?”

“I don’t think I cared to ask.”

“Then I suppose you aren’t deserving of one either.”

“Well,” he tapped at your chest with a gloved finger, “I think you’ve got a little spunk left in you, sweetheart.”

“Call me Y/n.”

“No last name?” He deadpanned.

“L/n.”

He nodded, but you felt as though your words had passed through him like a ghost.

“Karl.” He gave a lazy bow, tilting the rim of his hat. “But I think you probably already knew that.”

“Gossip and information don’t come easily from the maids here. Sorry,” you pressed your lips together, “I didn’t know.”

Karl gave a shrug.

“Do you know what happened to my friend?” The thought had been playing on your mind for the past few weeks.

He raised an inquisitive brow and turned his head to peer out the shaded window. “The so-called friend that left you to become lycan chow?” A hearty tut left his chest. “I think she’s assimilated into the town.”

“Dumb bitch.” You breathed.

“There’s that spark.” He stood tall with an artificial sense of pride. It had been a long time since somebody in the village was willing to use such crude language in front of any of the Lords, let alone Miranda. It almost astonished him that they’d let you live after the killing of Adelina’s brother. The gun misfired; it wasn’t really your fault.

Another week of growing suspicions and two newly missing maids, you finally attempted to seek out the dungeons that everyone spoke of but warned to stray from. You had to know what was going on here.

“Lost?” Heisenberg’s voice appeared at your right side. His chin almost rested upon your shoulder; the stubble of his beard scratched at your neck. “This isn’t a place I’d get lost in if I were you. In fact, it’s not even a place you should be exploring.”

“Are you going to run to Alcina if I do?” You didn’t face him, why would you? The hallway was cramped, restricting of any sort of movement other than in the direction you were going.

“Me?” He leaned backward to stand at full height. Your body cursed silently, wishing nothing more than to have him close again. How he wasn’t hitting his head on the rafter just inches above floored you. “I hate that bitch. You do what you want, but I won’t bail you out when you get caught.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on being caught then.” You descended the metal ladder, only looking upward for a moment to catch a glimpse of Heisenberg leaning over the opening. An eerie smile was plastered on his lips, it was almost smug.

The dungeons were as you imagined. Cold water trickled down some of the walls, likely due to cracks in the castle’s foundation accompanied by the ever melting of the outside snow. It smelled of mothballs and garlic, something musty was clinging to the air. You noted a few turns here and there, attempting to memorize the path you had taken in case you needed to make a swift escape. What didn’t help was the skid of your maid’s clothes along the rigid floor.

Muffled cries put you further onto the edge. The narrow hall gave way to a large room filled with arched stonework. Metal bars shot from floor to ceiling, hinges creaked as the sound of hands banging against them filled your eardrums. You didn’t want to go further, scared of any repercussions should any of the jailed women recognize and rat you out.

Turning to head to the ladder, you collided with a chest. “Leaving so soon?” Heisenberg again.

“Shh!” You slapped at his chest with a closed fist, only realizing what you had done when the action was completed. He looked rightfully amused. Everything that you had learned of these “Lords” up to now told you to act less casually with him, to put on an air of respect at the very least. But there was something surprisingly human about him. Something that told you it was okay despite it potentially not being so. At this point, you were only prolonging the inevitable.

“What?” He started, swiftly being cut off by approaching footsteps. Firm hands grasped at your arms, pulling your face forward into his chest. “Open your mouth and I’ll feed you to whatever’s coming.” He said through his teeth, trapping your arms between your two bodies.

The room grew dim, the wall behind your back became close even though you had not moved at all. Heisenberg’s grip was strong on your forearms, causing you to inaudibly hiss as his thumb dug into the slash Alcina had left weeks prior. The footsteps were accompanied by the soft cries of a woman, gasping pleas of being let go falling silent on the ears of her assailant. A minute passed; the dungeon fell soundless.

“You can breathe now.” His lips lingered close to your ear, once again sending a rush of chills crawling down your skin. He knew what he was doing.

“I’ve been breathing.” You breathily retorted sounding as if you had just run a marathon.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

The wall behind you gave way, moving on its own. You turned; the materials that had been pressed to your back laid themselves on the ground. Heisenberg’s smile was unmissable. “Go ahead.” His voice was gravely, gruff, a slight melancholy dismay underlying. Heisenberg desired for you to implore what just happened, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You refused to see him as anything but normal, for if you did give in to the village’s mental games, you’d likely find yourself going mad. He was a man, you told yourself, nothing more.

“I thought you weren’t going to bail me out?”

“I wasn’t.” He tightened his grip on your arms. “But I figured it’d be a shame to lose such a pretty face so soon.”

“I, I’m sure you say that to all the girls here.” You couldn’t hold his gaze at this distance. Perhaps Adelina was right, you were rather frumpy and unexperienced.

A huff came as he exhaled, a thoughtful tug of his lips upward accompanied it. He didn’t answer, a reoccurring event with those who inhabited this town.

Heisenberg had been keeping his trips to and from the castle a secret. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he felt so inclined to bother with the outsider woman who appeared in the village one fateful evening. Perhaps he was growing bored of his daily routine with no results to show. Maybe he was enticed by the well of knowledge you held of the outside world. Maybe it was something else, something human. The Lord’s weren’t allowed to stray far from the village. The other three lived delightfully oblivious, completely okay with never exploring the unknown. Heisenberg, on the other hand, was not. Your friend, Jess as he recalled you calling her, was far from interesting to him. It didn’t take a genius to tell how low her I.Q. had to be. She conformed easily to the village and by all accounts had been down talking you to the others she met. She quickly fell into the same brainwashed daze of worship.

It had been another turbulent week of utter chaos around every corner. Nobody knew of your adventure into the depths of Castle Dimitrescu and you had no intentions of spreading any gossip among the maids. They all seemed to have it out for you anyway. You were the “outsider,” as one described it. It was so blatantly evident to them that you were not going to conform to their ways. And that disturbed them.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t your fair share of punishment to this point. In actuality, you had received a significantly greater amount of beratements and surface wounds from Alcina and her daughters. You thought to Heisenberg often, continually wondering how your life would differ had Miranda bestowed you upon him. He was irresistibly charming in his own twisted sense. Every word that escaped his mouth heavily contradicted his actions. You received a good number of swats to the hand stemming from woeful daydreaming of the man you hardly knew.

He could be dangerous, you’d tell yourself before slipping into yet another sequence of fervent and unrelenting thoughts stemming from the mysterious man. He was a Lord, one placed in a top position according to the village’s hierarchy. You just weren’t sure why.

There had been countless times the man had sauntered into the castle, “accidentally” run into you, and held brief conversation.

The other maids were assholes. Though you had concluded this swiftly upon entering the castle, their recent actions only solidified your feelings.

It had been only a day since Heisenberg’s last visit. He strolled into the castle, easing his way past the maids as they hurriedly passed by. They paid him no mind. The evening sun had begun to set in the sky. Lady Dimitrescu had gone out for the night, instructing her girls to hold down the castle while she was away. The three of them had descended into the dungeons, not to be seen again until morning. This left the halls free and roamable for the savvy Lord.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Your voice caught his attention. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Marybeth.”

Shrill voices argued back and forth behind the kitchen doors. The sound of muffled giggles fell on his ears; it was an unusual sound within the castle walls. The girls must be relaxed knowing they’re safe from punishment tonight. At least, that’s what they thought.

In a second, the hinges of the door burst off, sending the heavy frame crashing down to the tiled floor. Shrieks came quickly and died on their lips as soon as the girls realized who was there.

“Lord Heisenberg.” One woman bowed her head, concealing something within her hands as she placed them in her lap, clasped tightly together. “Lady Dimitrescu has left for the evening.”

“I know.” His brow raised at the scene set before him. You stood to the rear of the kitchen, clearly irate at something the woman who regarded him had done. Five other women were huddled with the one who spoke, following her lead and averting their gazes. No aroma of cuisine drifted from the empty cauldron, only the stale scent of curing meats clung to the air.

“What’s going on in here?” He looked directly at you from beneath the lid of his hat.

“We were cleaning the kitchen.” The maid spoke through shaking breaths.

After a pensive moment, he waved his hand. “You’re dismissed. Except,” he held his hand at your chest as you attempted to pass, “you.”

The girls stumbled over the door, making quick work of getting back to their quarters and away from the Lord. You listened as the audience of feet trampled away. None of the girls here knew how to walk in heels causing for a rather elephant-like clomping of shoes wherever they went.

“What really happened?”

“Do you care?”

“Not particularly, but color me curious.”

“Don’t get them in trouble.” You demanded through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to deal with the aftermath.”

He chortled. “You seem more afraid of them than you are of me.”

“You’ve not given me a reason to be scared.”

Your back pressed to the wall, a glass chalice fell, shattering against the floor. The lapels of his jacket and dog tags pushed to your chest were still cold from the frosted night air. “Do I need to give you a reason?”

“I just,” embarrassment rose in your cheeks, “would you stop doing this?” There was no budging the man. His strength far outweighed yours, easily acting as if your pushing against his chest was nothing but a soft breeze.

“Doing what?” A smirk grew on his lips. God, he loved this.

“This!” Your clenched fist banged on his chest, not rattling him in the slightest. Droplets of claret liquid ran from your palm to your elbow. “Dammit, Karl. Move.”

The use of his first name was new. A solid hand closed around your wrist, bringing it up to eye level. He tilted back, adjusting his vision. The raise of his brow signaled that he wanted you to open your hand. Complying, you cringed as the reddened skin screamed for relief.

“They did this?”

“It’s no different from the other injuries I’ve gotten here.”

“It’s deep.” He reached into the pocket of his trench coat. “Don’t let anyone know you’ve got this.” A silver tin slipped from his hand to yours, you pried at its ridges with your nail.

Heisenberg disappeared after that, taking off with a dramatic throw of the castle doors as he disappeared into the dense forest. He had given you a tin of salve and a bandage.

“Lady Dimitrescu has requested your presence.”

The Fugitive: Finding Home Part 3 - Foreign Thoughts

I'm so excited for where this fic is going...

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