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hannieehaee · 11 hours ago

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Svt telling their s/o they’re tired of them? Angst to fluff pls

telling their s/o they're tired of them

content: established relationship, mentions of arguments, angst to fluff, fighting, making up, etc.

wc: 1706

a/n: i wrote this incredibly dramatic for no reason lol i hope u enjoy though!!

masterlist

seungcheol -

it'd be done in the heat of the moment. he wouldn't mean it, but he'd say it specifically with the intention of hurting you, which he'd realize in the moment but would regret the moment you walked away with a huff. he'd have to sit on it for a while ruminating on what happened. it'd take him a while to actually go to you to apologize due to his stubbornness, but he'd eventually realize how badly he fucked up when his messages began to go unanswered.

after a while, he'd literally just have to push his pride aside completely in order to apologize. he'd realize the error of his ways and be honest in the fact that he didn't mean it and was just being petty and vindictive. would understand if you needed some time apart or if he'd damaged your trust. he'd realize the error of his stubbornness after this incident.

jeonghan -

it'd be said in a moment where too many things are bothering him, just constantly jamming into his mind and adding more and more problems into his life and driving him insane. you'd interrupt him in one of these instances, causing him to snap at you and immediately regret it when your face fell, completely unexpecting of your sweet hannie to speak like that to you.

he'd drop whatever he was doing the moment he realized what he'd said and cry and coo at you as he apologized, insulting himself over and over about what a bad boyfriend he was being and how horrible he was for speaking to you like that. would encourage you to be mean to him in return, getting you to laugh at his insistence.

joshua -

it was said in a petty, bitter way. he wanted to chase you away for a bit, but not too terribly. this was enough to just get your lip to quiver a little, but he'd regret it immediately. whatever anger or frustration that was in him would leave him the moment the words left his mouth. he only said it so he could be left alone for a moment, but he didn't think he'd genuinely hurt your feelings.

you wouldn't really be able to react before he began apologizing, reassuring you that he was an idiot and could never be tired of you. he'd pout and whine and maybe make it into a lighthearted thing to avoid things escalating. would promise to make it up to you.

jun -

he'd be stammering apologies the moment the biting words left him. you wouldn't even get to react before he went to try and fail to explain himself. he'd know that if it were the other way around, he'd be heartbroken by his s/o telling him they're tired of him. because, really, how could he say that to you? he's not tired of you. he could never be! he wants you all the time, even if you're fighting.

he'd say all these things to you in the form of a ramble, literally unable to stop until you interrupt him. he'd be so innocently apologetic and regretful that it'd be impossible to not kiss and make up.

soonyoung -

he's been said to be kind of scary when angry, so this would be said in the heat of the moment. maybe you'd had a terrible argument and that was just the last thing he'd said, stubbornly wanting to get the last word in. he'd be too stubborn at first to allow himself to admit that he'd been petty and that he'd genuinely hurt you for no reason.

when it finally dawned on him, he'd grovel endlessly, already crying when he went to approach you to apologize. it'd be hard and it'd be painful for him to apologize, but he still would feel the need to do so. he's a sensitive guy, so he understands what it's like to be hurt by someone's words. would promise to never fight again, and specially to never deliberately try to hurt you through his petty words.

wonwoo -

it is very hard for me to imagine him saying something like this, but if he ever did, it'd have some context behind it. not just a mere 'i'm tired of you' but instead something like 'i'm tired of you doing/saying x thing'. he'd still hurt your feelings, but nowhere in his mind would he have thought that that'd be the effect of his words.

he'd be the type to sit you down and want to talk about it further. he would apologize and open a conversation about what he meant by his words and how he'd never say anything to deliberately hurt you. he'd also be genuinely sad at the thought of his words doing any type of damage to you.

jihoon -

he'd just mutter it under his breath without realizing, much less noticing that you heard him. you'd been insisting he takes a break and trying to get him out of his studio for a bit when he'd said it. he'd be so immersed in his work that he literally would not notice that you left with a huff. it'd only be until hours later when he noticed he wasn't getting your usual text messages throughout the day that he'd realize something was off.

coming home, that's when he would have the epiphany. the air would be cold and your mood would clearly match the atmosphere. he'd go to you with his tail between his legs, having to grovel and make lots of promises about how he'd never disregard and offend you like that. he'd take this as a lesson to himself.

seokmin -

nope sorry i just cannot imagine him doing this ever lol

mingyu -

the only way i imagine this happening is it he's dealing with an imaginable amount of stuff on his plate and he's already had a few people snapping at him already so he accidentally dished it out on you when you caught him just at the worst moment.

his reaction to what he said would depend on your own reaction. if you were angry and stormed off, he'd curse at himself and let you cool off on your own before apologizing. if you cried or looked hurt, he'd gruel and even go as far as getting on his knees to apologize, telling you that what he said was not aimed at you but it just came out bc you were closest and that he'd never mean to disrespect you like that.

minghao -

he's usually pretty zen and in touch with his emotions so him snapping at you and telling you he's tired of you would just be all the more dramatic. i don't think he'd ever say it with the intention of hurting you but more so because of built up frustration. he'd immediately realize his mistake, though and know he'd need to apologize as soon as possible.

if you walked off, he'd let you leave to cool off and sit you down later to formally communicate and apologize, but if you reacted more sad than mad, he'd stare at you agape at his own snarky comment before shaking himself out of it and hugging you, ensuring you he's not tired of you and that he was completely out of line.

seungkwan -

he's a very emotional person, and maybe sometimes that gets the best of him. he always treats all his loved ones with the biggest of affections, but just like anyone else, sometimes things get too much and might make him snap at the wrong people. or at least that's what he told himself in order to make himself better at the dejected look on your face when he suddenly snapped at you. you'd interrupted him as he tried to manage some work stuff, but the fault was all his.

he'd grovel on his own for a while, scared to face you because he'd never expected himself to snap at you like that and didn't know how to move forward. he knew he'd have to apologize to you, but he felt like he didn't deserve to speak to you until you decided it was time. however, he'd have to man up eventually and go to you. he'd approach you with his tail between his legs, mumbling apologies. when you heard him out and accepted his apology (after lots of hugs and groveling), he'd be so thankful.

vernon -

he's usually such a laid back person, but sometimes things just got too much and he'd find himself more stressed than usual. it would just be unfortunate that you'd catch him at the perfectly wrong time, earning a frustrated 'don't bother me right now, i'm tired of you' that'd have your face falling in a way he'd never seen before. when you walked away without saying anything, ignoring him when he tried to stop you, he'd know he fucked up.

he knew you needed time on your own, but he'd still try to be around you as much as he could throughout the day. he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else, looking to you like a sick puppy until you snapped at him and told him to just say whatever he wanted to say. that's when the stammered apologies would come in. he'd admit complete fault, telling you it wasnt your fault that stress got the better of him. you'd have a very productive conversation about it and make up within the day.

chan -

it'd happen so suddenly and unexpectedly he'd even shock himself in having said it. he can have a bit of an attitude sometimes, but he'd never actually say something so hurtful to you. your fights never involved any insults or purposely hurtful words. this would be a rare moment, shocking the two of you.

when you immediately stormed out, hurt and angry, he'd understand. he'd be too scared to deal with it all day, so he'd let you cool down on your own, but really it'd be only out of fear of you getting even angrier at him. he'd have to grow some balls in order to actually come to you and apologize. it'd be full of grueling and regret, with chan terrified he might've disrespected you too far for forgiveness.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshot #svt reactions #seventeen reactions #svt angst #seventeen angst #svt fluff #seventeen fluff

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oimitocat · 2 days ago

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LUST OVERFLOW | OS

han jisung x m!reader

cnc (dubious consent) + unintentional piss kink + slight crying + unprotected sex + semi public sex + praise kink + restroom sex + dry penetration (use lube guys)

a/n; imma try to slowly change my layout jjsj

you always bullied the others when they’d go to the bathroom in pairs. obviously it’s sometimes a security thing, but really, you found it silly how they always made someone go with them.

you were humming to yourself your verses, staring at yourself in the mirror while your stylist added some final touches to your hair. you lost track of how many times you’ve had your hair done today. this is the second show of the day and-

“you look nice,” you comment when your eyes drift towards jisung.

the rapper blinked, straightening up. his stylist finished long ago, he just walked near your station to grab your water bottle. he stares at you, unsure how to answer. you’re used to it, so you smile. the thing about your boyfriend is that when it comes to you- he doesn’t know how to take a compliment. anyone else can say something and he’ll be playfully narcissistic for a second.

not with you. he genuinely has his brain short circuit when his charming boyfriend compliments him. especially when you eye him with those eyes, which always trail towards his waist. he fidgets, taking a seat next to you. the members are off goofing around, the camera is running and recording felix with chan.

your stylist finishes and walks off to work on jeongin. no one is looking at you two.

jisung’s leg is bouncing, he realizes he maybe shouldn’t have drank so much water. he normally doesn’t but being around you makes him so parched for some reason. you still make him nervous, sometimes he can’t believe you actually want him. yet, he feels at ease when you place a hand on his knee. he swallows.

“wanna come with me to the restroom?” he asks, realizing he should probably empty his bladder before performing.

you smile, he misses the glint in your eyes as he stands. he gives a small announcement to chan before exiting with you. idols are buzzing about as he guides you to the restroom. he’s decently surprised when it’s empty, heading straight to the farthest stall.

he doesn’t think much of you coming in with him. he does the same to you sometimes. it’s his anxiety that makes him do that though, yet he still doesn’t question you.

before he even faces the toilet, you grab him and press your lips against his. he makes a small noise, closing his eyes and accepting the tender kiss. except the tenderness disappears once he melts into your arms. you have a hand behind his head, pushing him close and pulling him flush against you with an arm around his waist. his hands grab your sides, clinging to the outfit.

your kiss turns aggressive, eating away at his lips ferociously that he finds himself backing away. still, you finish eating his lip tint before finally letting go.

“w-what are you doing?” he asks breathlessly, eyeing you with hazy eyes. his heart is racing and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other when he remembers what he came here for.

“what do you mean?” you ask, not so innocently and slightly serious.

jisung blinks, pursing his lips. “i- no, nothing.” he says softly, pecking your lips again.

he tries to pull away again, he needs to pee. he feels his bladder crying out from how long he’s holding it in for. yet, the peck you mistake it for consent. you grip him again, making him whimper.

you spin him around, pulling down on the collar of his shirt. he shudders when you kiss and lick his nape. he’s sensitive there, trembling and hiccuping his moans. your hand snakes down and rubs him through his pants. that’s when he completely slaps your hand away.

“y/n- no-“ he tries to get away but you grab his waist and grind him. “i need to pee- that’s what i came here for!”

he slaps his hands over his mouth when the door opens and footsteps present themselves. just as two voices exchange conversation between themselves, you buckle his belt and pull his pants down. he tries to stop you, panicking because he’s never been good at being quiet.

“y/n,” he begs as quietly as possible, not only does he know what you want but there’s two things happening.

1) there’s people down the restroom stalls.

2) he needs to pee.

he’s getting overwhelmed. it doesn’t get better when you push him forward, making him brace himself against the wall with his hands out. his heart is about to jump up and crawl up his throat and out his mouth when he feels you hands spread his cheeks apart. the toilets flush farther down and he closes his eyes when he feels the tip of your dick against his hole.

“y/n-“ he whimpers out, bringing a hand back to push you away.

the two people are chattering as they walk out and jisung takes the opportunity to look back at you. his eyes are glistening with tears.

“i need to pee.” he says, “stop.”

“then pee baby,” you say with a serious expression, shoving yourself in with a single movement.

jisung turns back to face forward, trembling and gasping. he screws his eyes shut as you grab his hips and pull him flush against your pelvis. he feels you pulse inside him, he opens his eyes and looks down at the toilet bowl. his own dick semi-hard but close to bursting with piss.

“y/n- wait- pull out- we-we can’t,” he feels his tears drip from his eyes when he screws his eyes shut again at the movement of your hips.

“shh,” you usher as you lean forward, flush against his back.

“i need to pee-“

“then pee.” he shakes his head and you have the audacity to bring a hand over and grab his dick to aim down at the toilet-

“y/n stop-“ he shakes his head but the more you thrust into him, the more he feels his will weakening.

“come on baby,” you whisper huskily into his ear, “be my good boy. you’re doing good so far, so well, my pretty baby is obedient, no?”

jisung swallows, hiccuping when he feels a trickle of pee leave him. “ngh-“

“don’t you want to be good? my good little slut?”

that did it. he slaps a hand over his mouth, his other hand bracing him against the wall as he lets out the stream of piss into the bowl. you pound into him, as he pees, finding ecstasy in it. you do feel a little bad, but you two have talked about things like this and you know he’ll be fine.

even after he’s done, he trembles as you keep your relentless pace from behind. at some point he’s unsure if he came alongside his piss, the sensations new and overwhelming.

“that’s my pretty baby,” you grunt from behind, reaching your high soon after.

“you’re a piece of shit,” he gasps when he feels you cum deep inside, his hips aching from your grip on them.

“my feisty baby,” you smile, placing a kiss on his nape. “you can hate me later.”

“sure will.”

you smile at him as you pull out with a shuddered sigh. and maybe he definitely shows you his hatred later that night, cockblocking you with an evil, innocent smile.

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saucerfulofsins · 3 days ago

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I love the juice bar scene as much as the next person. I especially love the juice bar scene in conjunction with the confession.

And yeah, the "I'm straight" is chekov's gun, and the chemistry between Eddie and father Brian too. I love the meta/spec/headcanons!

That's not what I want to talk about. Instead, I want to talk about how sensitive Father Brian has been to Eddie's needs. He offered Bobby help in the church, face to face, and that worked for Bobby because he's a religious man. Eddie went to confession, and got his grievances aired, but -

we know Eddie's relationship with the church and religion is more complex than Bobby's. It doesn't work.

And then Father Brian runs into Eddie, recognizes him although he probably only saw Eddie through the confessional's grate. He remembers Eddie's name, too. He cares! And I don't think that's a sexual/romantic thing at all - and I don't think it is religious either. Yes, religion is the context within which he works, but it's not the only context.

He's not technically on the job when he sits down at that table; he's away from the protection by the grandiose rituals embedded in going to church, confession, wearing robes. He does it out of personal care, affection for humanity; he fills the role of a social worker, a guidance counselor - and religion is one of his tools but it's clearly not his only tool. It's also his ability to observe, and to listen, and to reflect on things - putting his finger on the sore spot in ways no one else in Eddie's life has done. That takes guts, especially because he knows Eddie's in a vulnerable place.

And he does it not because he's interested in Eddie romantically/sexually - that is not the reciprocity he seeks, nor the reciprocity that fulfills him. He does it because he cares.

The setting certainly helps too. Eddie doesn't feel as intimidated, not like a fish out of water. Only his title marks Father Brian as a religious figure; he uses it to break the ice and mark himself as safe ("I am celibate"), and then finally invokes his position to speak to Eddie's Catholic guilt and get him to do something for himself.

I don't know. It just felt deeply human and caring and I enjoy that a lot, and I love how it all connects back to Eddie first realizing his Catholic guilt in 7x05.

#911 #911 meta #911 spoilers #father brian #eddie diaz #this is also not meant to be criticism of people who want to read something else in that relationship #but i actually love it as it is/as its own mini-arc #it feels very satisfying #the kind of religious/secular nudge in the right direction eddie needed #i think for me the way i could imagine father brian returning in eddie's life might be to have eddie return to the church hand in hand with #buck #because that by itself would be poignant - them as two men clearly together in a house of god #and thanking father brian who'd obviously be happy to see it #and yeah i know IRL church vs queerness is A Whole Entire Thing i am not interested in discussing that here in the slightest <3 #my meta #meta

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puck-luck · 11 hours ago

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Quinn, Diamonds, Prompt #9 (option to include #1 - both are so good!!) 🫶🏻

warnings: using a camera during sexual acts, dirty talk WC: 575

“Aw, baby, this is just what you needed, huh?” Quinn asks, smirking devilishly through his grainy reflection. “You’ve been so stressed. That’s all over with now, right?”

You nod mindlessly, grinding back on his cock. You’d been preparing for this interview all week, over-preparing to the point that you’d be able to answer any hypothetical question that your (hopefully) future employer could throw at you.

Quinn had helped you, of course. He’s a doting boyfriend who wants what’s best for you and he’ll help you in any way we can. Part of helping you was the promise of stress relief, or a reward for doing so well after you complete your interview. You had chosen the big reward, wanting to focus on prepping for your interview rather than getting distracted by sex, and Quinn had told you to trust him.

After your interview ended, he closed your computer and replaced it with his own. He opened his camera and had you center yourself in frame, the way you had when you were talking with the hiring managers a few minutes before. Then, Quinn had done something surprising. He had stood behind you and kissed over your neck until you were melting into his touch.

Then he’d unbuttoned your shirt, revealing your “pretty tits” and the bra that confines them. He’d cradled their weight in his hands, still kissing over the sensitive skin that covers your pulse point.

It hadn’t taken him long to get you standing. He’d pushed the chair away from you, then bent you over the edge of the desk with a gentle, guiding hand. Then, he had rid you of your pants and pulled your panties to the side, crooning into your ear as he entered you with a finger.

“My smart girl,” Quinn had said. “So capable. You killed it, baby.”

A second finger. “They’d be stupid not to hire you after that interview. Almost as stupid as you’re going to be when I’m done with you.”

It was a promise and he’s made good on it so far– he’s at the point where he’s long since abandoned using his fingers and is now fucking into you with sharp, precise thrusts. You’re clenching down on his cock like you’re trying to milk the cum out of him. Your moans are echoing throughout the bedroom, and occasionally Quinn will remind you to look at yourself on the screen.

“What would they think, baby, if they could see you now?” Quinn asks, bringing a hand to the back of your head and gripping your hair. “You think they’d like the show? Make you CEO right away just because you look so pretty when you’re squeezing my cock?”

“Oh my God,” you whimper, blushing at the mere idea of it. Quinn loves to humiliate you a little bit, especially after a hard week for you. It makes you looser, louder, more eager to come. He knows how to erase all of your thoughts with just a few words.

“Nah, you’d never let that happen,” Quinn muses. “Only I get to see you like this, isn’t that right?”

“Only you, Quinn,” you agree breathlessly, your head dropping forward again to rest on your forearms, entirely fucked out.

“Ah-ah, baby,” Quinn corrects, pulling your head back up with a disapproving shake of his head. “Let the camera see your face when you come. I want to watch this back next time I go out of town.”

#puck-luck's 1k celebration #andy writes anything🍄#quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #qh43 #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #hockey smut

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ouchthathurts · 8 hours ago

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❝ 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤. ❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬) ⋮ Daisuke x AFAB! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⋮ 3.5k

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ⋮ 1 | 2 |

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋮ Captains know best!

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋮ Cross-Posted on AO3 | Vomit Mentioned | Jimmy-Centered

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ⋮ Sorry for the delay! Advisement and Finals are coming ups I'm fixing up the schedule to accommodate writing as well!

There’s tension in the room, it’s thick, rough to spread on toast and forced down your throat to make sure you know that you had fucked this up. Of course, Daisuke would be here–But why Daisuke? The rare updates your mother gave was that he really did nothing after high school, enrolled into college undeclared as he just partied his way through the first and second semester.

“No amount of money could get that boy into a good school.” Your mother sighed in relief, “Good riddance.” You had done well, well in your mother eyes since you could’ve done “one more extracurricular’ or ‘been involved in more organizations’ nonetheless, you secured your spot at her dream college and took it seriously in fear she’d kick out her child.

You know, you hadn’t taken the chance to notice how Daisuke had grown, changed in some ways with the faded blond hair dye on the ends of his hair–When did he start curling his hair? When did he dye it blond? What made him start wearing concealer around his eyes? There’re these subtleties you may have not noticed before, were they always there and you were always just that neglectful of him? Disappointed in yourself as a friend you wave to him, and when his eyes finally hit you, it almost drops like a dead body. There’s a way his eyes fall, it almost guts you in a way where he perfectly places his hands on the most sensitive parts. It’s the way he knows you inside out, he doesn’t even need to say anything to you, the look in his chestnut eyes that held everything back in them to not burst into tears. “Alright, Daisuke, that’s enough getting familiar with the crew.” Jimmy speaks, it’s a man you remembered having straight brown hair slicked into a midpart, brown eyes, and stubble. The scraggle under his chin made you cringe, praying that if he got closer there wouldn’t be something ghastly awaiting you. All of you wore the Pony Express jumpsuit, except Swansea and Daisuke who just wore the shirt and jeans with Daisuke adding on a top, you’re not surprised since Daisuke would add anything to the uniform to make sure he was authentic even in the little ways like a feather earring or multicolored rubber band bracelets.

You began to play with the one under the sleeve of your jumpsuit, your fingers turning into pluck at your wrist was the one Daisuke had made for you back in elementary school, it had his and your favorite color alternating every two loops.

“Oh! My! God!” You let out the most obnoxious gasp, it causes him to giggle, and you smirk to yourself knowing all the right buttons to push, there’s a big grin on his face as he slips it on your wrist, and you look down at it to see his wrist falling next to yours to reveal the same bracelet. “Do you like love it?” You snicker at his phrasing, “Dude, I like love it, man.” You mock him, he brings his shoulder to yours to shove it, and the two of you share a smile with glazed over eyes.

How do you even face him? Ways to talk to him, but your biggest fear is talking to him specifically. Everybody boarding this ship seems fine, or at least as good as any other crew could be to be honest with you, since you know it is like your first time. You're looking at a little longer than you should. Like Curly? I mean, you think he's good looking? It's the same blond that Daisuke wanted to do at one point, he was charismatic like how Daisuke was when you first met him, and his hand shake his firm but you long for the wiggle in his wrist Daisuke had.

Holy shit, what do you even do in this situation?

What do you even say to him? “Hey, I'm sorry for leaving you after all this time.” “My bad for abandoning you.” “I'm scared shitless at my mom.” Can you even use your mom as an excuse anymore? Is she even really that scary in the first place or were you just pussying out? All the time where you’ve defended him and all the times he's defended you–Why was you even arguing for him if you just ended up leaving him in the end?

Soon you were met with the Co-captain again. You want to lie to yourself about your situation, that being on a ship is cool and being trained to fly it sounds even more amazing but Good God, you could not stand to be around Jimmy for longer than you needed to.

Honestly, you were very much distraught to find out that you were being stuck with Jimmy. “Since as Captain I'll be a bit busier, I won't be able to be as active as I'd like to be in training. Jimmy’s been a good hand, he's strong willed, eager, and is a good companion to have on the ship.”

You have to shadow him?

In some place in your heart, you know that he hates it just as much as you do. Just meeting him for the first time made him just look at you like lesser, was it because you added your own accessories to your uniform or the fact you put effort into your appearance? Handshake from Jimmy killed something in you because of how he did it, why was his hand so clammy? Why couldn’t he smell better? How come anytime that you talk to him you feel this disgusting older mess inside you like you're the one fucking up all the time? You hope and pray that this isn't all the time you'll spend on the Tuplar.

Upon loading all necessary items, you all make your accession, there's not really a lot to do on the Tuplar, unfortunately there's never anything to do here besides put all your stuff into your room and pray for the best. “Let's go.” Jimmy says your name like a sergeant, it's clear he treats you as a boot licker and now here you were running your tongue against the heel, “Yes, sir.”

Your first thing when it comes to the Tuplar is how the hell a ship can even run this long, you remember the information your mother gave you about how this is the last human ran delivery service, you think back on it and hate it even more as you remember you're really just stuck with these people for around a year or two.

You needed to make the best of it.

Whoever would be writing your recommendation letter Whether that Curly, or even Jimmy. You make sure that you did your absolute best. Now the biggest problem with being around Jimmy all the time is being around Jimmy all the time. You tried to find good things about him. For instance, he told you on the first day, “You're very diligent, I'm grateful for it.” It was nice to hear it, you began to look forward to it throughout the day like the people pleaser you were, spineless against Jimmy like you were to your mother.

There was also the fact that he would teach you stuff, he always made sure to be open with you and never bullshit you on what you wanted to know. There was a clear inferiority complex though. Anytime the two of you bumped into Curly there was a clear pedestal that Jimmy put him on, it was exhausting to hear him talk about how Curly got him this job and how grateful he was and how much good Curly did on this ship.

It got even more awkward one day, though. It was most likely around the later time this week that you were working alongside Jimmy and Curly happened to show up. Now in your defense, you really didn't know the two like that, Curley decided to make a joke about Jimmy, basically along the lines of how Jimmy might be a 'Negative Nancy' and it was all in good fun.

Unbeknownst to you, Curly would definitely be talking to you about Jimmy was in the first place. Jimmy was definitely a character and honestly, it was very hard to even find the time to be around him, even though you were forced to be around him a majority of the time. Nonetheless, Jimmy was definitely not supposed to hear what Curly and you had discussed because you were giving your most honest opinion about Jimmy given the week you two had spent together.

“He’s just always weird, to me, all the time.” Curly raised a brow, “Weird as in?” “At first, I felt special? Like all he was doing is just making me think that there was a chance to be better.” Then you let out a groan, you think back on what he says, and you continue on with your discussion, “It was this sick cycle, he’d compliment me, then he’d backhand me with a little thing,

‘You could’ve been better.’ ‘You could’ve not missed it.’ ‘Do you even know how to maneuver?’ ‘I guess you’re not as diligent as I thought.’” You sit there and look at Curly, and Curly look back at you with sympathy. “Well, why the fuck am I even trying then?” Curly flinches at your language but does nothing to halt your rant, especially when his eyes flicker above you then back to yours, he’s grateful you don’t notice.

“What the fuck am I gaining? If all it amounts to him just pulling the rug beneath my feet to see if I’ll float for him. It's ridiculous. I'm trying so much to please him and make sure I'm doing all right and that I meet his standards so I can do good in college, and I'm sitting here being bent over backwards and turned inside out for this absolute buffoon.” There’s another groan that earns his way out of you, “And his tone, it's so condescending. He never ever tries to think about anything that somebody else is doing. It's always about him, him, him, him. As if I have nothing else to do with my life. What if I want to go play games with Anya and Daisuke?”

Curly’s eyes aren’t even on you anymore, he’s looking to your left, and in return you follow his eyes. Guess that maybe it's just the way it's supposed to be? You don't say anything though You're terrified of even trying to go against either or so you sit there, and you stay silent. I mean what could you even say in the first place, “Jimmy…” You’re distraught that Curly didn’t tell you sooner, you don’t blame him, and Curly doesn’t correct you on it.

“So, do you have a problem with me? If you really have a problem with me while I’m on this ship, why work under me? Why do this? If you absolutely have nothing else to offer besides complaining the whole time, all you do is complain, complain, complain about what? About how I teach you? Mainly, it's because of how unattached you are to this. You never care for anything; you never sit there and think twice. You always sit there and think you're a know it all and think you know everything from A-Z. Unfortunately, you don't and I'm so sorry that you're hurt, that I know more than you and that you feel hurt or put on and I'm oh so sorry that you feel that way.”

The way Jimmy talked to you really pissed you off. Honestly, you were about 5 seconds away from beating his arse. Nonetheless though, you held back all that rage that you had pent up and thought about what you should do. He was apologizing for your feelings as if you are feeling the way you felt was absolutely the wrong way to feel and that you are not allowed to feel emotions in the first place about what he does as if his. As his actions don't have consequences. You want to say something and as much as you really want to fight against him.

You sit there, you take a breath in, and you apologize.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I should've communicated better. You're actually a really good co-captain, Jimmy.” There's a look in his eyes that tells you majorly messed up he looks back to you with this glaring expression but a crooked little grin on his face that tells you differently, he'll turn his body to you slowly and you look to him with a wobbly smile, your foundation being nothing but the fear you have in his face.

“It doesn't really matter what you think, does it? At the end of the day, I'm co-captain and Curly is captain, not the other way around. Don't need you feeling bad for me especially when I know you'd rather be with Curly.” You're lost for words, what do you even say after something like this? You can try and be nice and tell him that's not true but what are you even gaining from that at this point?

No Curly is just awkwardly standing there, unable to really do or say anything he tells the booth of you. “Maybe you guys should work it out amongst yourselves, you guys are mature and like-minded adults.” That was his cue to leave. You're distraught by this, but not surprised, unfortunately, given that he didn't even tell you about Jimmy being next to you. You wonder how long Jimmy was actually there next to you before Curly was going to say anything, if he was going to say anything at all...

After Curly makes his way out of the hallway, you were left alone with Jimmy, and you try to start up the conversation. “Well,-” The way Jimmy barks out a laugh causing him to spit on your face made you wince at the scene, “Well, Well what? Well, you suck at your job? Well, flattery will get you nowhere. Well, what do you even plan on doing after this excursion? Well, what do you even study in college? Well, do you even think you'll return for the next time? Well? Well?” With each phrase he got closer, and closer, and closer.

“Here and play around on this ship as if we're all doing these little dumb reindeer games to come and sit here and bullshitting around. I didn't know you were like Daisuke, and you have a little family going home to support you while you go through college, and I definitely didn’t know you wanted to hang out with the nurse who barely qualified for the position. I didn't know that you were so spoiled in lavish that you thought you could sit here and play around. You didn't want to learn anything, you just thought this was going to be a fun little hang out time. But this is real shit. We're doing real things.”

It didn't help that he had just eased you into one of the closets, it's small with shelves lined with miscellaneous items. It was cramp, you're cornered by this absolute unit that was most definitely trying to intimidate you. You don't even know what to do at this point. You look in his eyes and even while you're trying to hold your ground you feel like your knees are going to buckle in.

You stare at Jimmy, and he doesn't even see you, you're just another person who needs to know his place on the ship. Below Curly but above you. It was never explicitly said, and you don't know if you could ever really get it out of him, but you knew that this was just him making sure he knew you knew. You kept staring though and even as his face got closer and closer you couldn't even fathom how you would even get out of this.

“Well, what?” You see yourself in his reflection and there's nothing more humiliating than knowing how weak you look in front of somebody. It's almost petrifying how much you're realizing that you're stuck here, and you will be stuck here for as long as he wants you to be.

“Well?” You sigh, “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I was just speaking my mind.” He doesn't even look at you, his eyes flicker up and they flicker back down at you with no type of change to emotion. “I didn't decide to have a person work alongside me and be around me this whole time just for them to speak their feelings I don't want you to speak your feelings I don't need you to speak your feelings I don't want to hear you speak your feelings You're here for one thing and one thing only follow my orders and if you can't do that then I don't even know why you even bother to show up.”

“You didn't even decide to have me as your intern…”

You shouldn't have said that and in those seconds you didn't even realize it you were being snatched up, it was quick both of his hands already pinning you both by the sides of your shoulders you weren't surprised that he was able to just immediately grab your forearms and yank you over to him with his face even more knotted up in anger than before. “I'm sorry, I didn't hear you, follower. What did you say?” Your breath hitches at the feel of coarse hands squishing your flesh without a care, “I said,” You think, you think some more, and you come to your conclusion.

“I said, you didn't even decide to have me as your intern, you only have me shadowing you because you're not as important as Curly.” The way his grip tightened was something you expected, and you prayed that the bruises on your arms wouldn't be too bad as you felt yourself being run through a compressor, that was until someone knocked on the door. Jimmy whips his head around to see who it is, “Who is it?”

“Oh!” No, fucking, way. “Hey, Jiiiiimmy, right? I heard F/N’s voice in there and I was gonna ask if I could come in and get some stuff cause Swansea sent me…” Your eyes widen and you almost cry out in relief, “Daisuke? Yeah, I'm in here!” The look shot back at you almost gave you whiplash, quickly putting your head down in embarrassment as you were met with Jimmy's angered expression in your face. “We're coming out right now.”

There's an awkwardness in the air more than there was before but for a different reason. Upon getting out the closet you're met with Daisuke, You weren't the first to leave in fact as Jimmy was already standing there with his harm's crossed looking at Daisuke dismissively, there is a glare in his eyes that Daisuke had read as Jimmy being upset about being interrupted and you being embarrassed about being caught. Embarrassment was correct. You were absolutely floored by the fact that Daisuke had found you with Jimmy alone in a closet. It almost killed you to see the expression on his face upon leaving the enclosed area.

“Soooooooo, what were you guys doin’ in there?” Only Daisuke would ask such a question, and you admired him for such boldness and confidence you'd never lost it in those years, and he even glowed more with him being met with such a sight, you don't think he cares, and you do think maybe he thinks you moved on. It kills you to look at him, there's no obvious hurt in his face but Daisuke has always been someone that's displayed effortless suave.

Jimmy was quick to speak, “Nothin’ you need to worry about, Daisuke, just getting to know my intern a little better.” There's a cheeriness to his expression It's obvious of what he's doing, and you can't even say anything without not wanting to be put into that situation once more. You argue with yourself again, You could defend yourself and tell Daisuke that Jimmy was being a total asshole to you, and you needed help and you were so glad that he was able to help you or you could do what you were best at and that was going along with it.

“Yeah,”

Just like you always did.

“Ohhhhhhh, I see.” Daisuke lets out a warm laugh, too warm of a laugh, even as he's almost joking about it in a way that seemed like him and Jimmy were close, “Anywhosies, I'm going to take this stuff to Swansea. I'll see you guys around! Have fun getting to know each other!” You wish that your innards were churned into chum then regurgitated onto Jimmy. You turn to look at Jimmy, you think about what Daisuke thought about finding you two in the closet, once Daisuke was finally out of view, you promptly vomited onto Jimmy.

Those liquid would for sure stain his uniform and the chunks made a disgusting plan into the floor after you then clutched your stomach. You groaned, unfortunately for Jimmy, he took you to the nurse station.

©ouchthathurts please don't translate, claim as yours, redistribute and/or plagiarize in any way. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#mouthwashing #ouchlovesthem #ouchlovesdaisuke #ouchlovesmouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing game #mouthwashing fanfic

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muffinsin · 13 hours ago

Note

i just read this post

https://www.tumblr.com/muffinsin/739024633405308928/anon-here-my-fav-is-bela-though-i-totally-get

about gp! dimi sisters giving reader just the tip and i loved it!!! so if it’s okay and if not already done, could you do one for donna if you write gp for her?

i love all your stuff btw!

Absolutely, hon!🙇‍♀️ Some more Donna in our lives never hurts XP! Other parts here

Let’s get into it!🙌

Masterlists

With a flushed face and a racing heart you look up at her, finding her dark eye at last. She’s hovering just mere inches above you, her breasts pushing down against you, her eye set on you, her thighs brushing against you and her cock- no, only her tip- pushed into you.

You squirm, helpless to do anything else due to the ribbons tying your wrists together. Already, you regret your actions, wishing you had been good instead. Now, you pay the price, all your pleads and whimpers falling onto deaf ears. You want- no, need her. Need all of her.

Alas, your punishment for today is obvious, clear as day to you, and so bittersweet.

You whine, your eyes wide. “Please, my love”, you plead.

“Please, just a little more, my love! I’ll be good now! Just…just a little more, a little…a little more!”, you whine, squirming to try and get her deeper inside. Stopping this abruptly, you gasp when she grabs your hips, her grip strong, her strong, skilled fingers pressing into your flesh.

“Now, Tesoro, I thought you said you’d be good this morning already…”, she coos, her voice low and seductive, enough to make your head spin.

Using her free hand she reaches down, and you can only whine as she begins to jerk herself off, thrusting her hand and occasionally sliding her fingers across her balls. And still, it’s only her tip that she grants you.

Feeling utterly edged and sensitive, you cry and squirm, little pleas slipping from your lips like water from a waterfall.

“Please, my love!”

“I’m sorry, Fiore!”

“Please, just a little bit! Just halfway in, my love!”

“I’ve learned my lesson!”, you insist, flushing when she laughs lowly and merely jerks herself off a little faster.

“Oh…tesoro, mi fai divertire”

You begin to feel more and more flustered, your body held down and in place, your arms restrained, her tip just barely inside of you. Still, you feel precum drool from her, feel how warm and wet she is. You drool, thinking of how she could just push herself inside fully at any time.

Alas, she isn’t, she doesn’t, and she won’t. Not until she feels you have learned your lesson. And you know, Donna is unfortunately, at least in this instance, very, very patient.

You gasp when she leans down, her tongue trailing along your neck, her hair tickling your skin gently.

“I have told you what would happen when you don’t behave, Tesoro”, she whispers, scolding playfully. Yes, she has. Punishment- but she never clarified it would be this, this..this agony! You can only squirm and try to roll your hips to no avail. You’re sure, you could cum instantly if she just pushed herself inside already!

“This isn’t…fair!”, you whine, feeling so terribly needy. Before this, you thought edging was the worst thing she could do, or denying you an orgasm all together. This is worse: this way, you don’t even feel her inside properly, can barely feel her head push and pulse inside of you, drooling precum inside.

She chuckles, the sound low and breathless, a sign she’s getting closer to an orgasm, too.

“Would you like me to pull out entirely, love?”, she asks, then, her voice a little lighter. Oh, she’s teasing you, and you’re helpless in the face of her dominance. You quickly shake your head, begging her not to. You don’t know why, but you just can’t bear to lose the tip, too, you desperately need more of her.

“Please…my love…I need it…!”, you plead instead, trying a different approach.

You gasp when her hand trails up to your neck, then, whereas the other works faster between her own legs, pulling moans and grunts from her.

“Then tell me how bad you need it, my doll”, she coos, arousal pooling in her dark eye.

Oh, and you do.

You moan, you plead, you whine and whimper all about just how bad you want it, how bad you need it.

You squirm and cry out for her, spread your legs, so utterly eager to accept more of her inside. But Donna, teasing as she is, merely continues jerking herself off for a painful while longer.

A little more, a little more.

More moans and grunts come from her that have your body heat up and tingle in anticipation.

You want it.

You need it.

And then,

you get it.

When she pushes herself inside, only to cum, it’s almost beautifully overwhelming. You moan and shriek, crying out for her, rolling your hips, eager to receive all of her. She fills you perfectly, paints your insides white and slick.

And then, just before you get your pleasure, you feel her pull out to the tip again.

“Beg again, little one”

#donna beneviento #g!p #resident evil village #donna benevento x reader

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loveanddeepspice · 8 hours ago

Text

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis: you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating: 18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw: religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter: 6 / ?

✞ co-authors: redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link: here

✞ chapter synopsis: "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - oscar wilde

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Despite what happened, you would have done anything to face Father Sylus again.

He was the type of person who radiated energy from within, dedication unlike anyone you had ever met - which could be a good or a bad thing. The thoughts became an obsession, all that seemed to fill your brain. The recollection of his touch made you sweat. It was the last thing you thought about before drifting off to sleep, the first thing you thought about when you woke, and the next few days stretched. One thing was sure: you longed to see him again, if only for the courage to apologize. But did you even have to apologize? He was the one who had kissed you first, right? It was so unbelievably confusing. You’d talk yourself through circles; for once, no amount of sleeping seemed to help. You weren’t even given the option to sleep it all off anyway or mellow properly in your self-pity. Upon learning of your ‘arrest’ from Talia, your father forced you out of the house that Sunday to go to church with him. “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Dad raised his eyebrows and frowned as he gripped the steering wheel, and you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry or frustrated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, hon. You came back, and you’re acting weird. Can you just tell me what’s wrong?” Shaking your head, you shrugged, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact on the door handle, ignoring your dad’s question and wishing he’d just leave you alone. “You went from being happy to totally distraught since you moved out. What am I supposed to think here, huh?” ‘Maybe everything went to total fucking shit,’ was what you wanted to say, and tried not to roll your eyes. Dad tried so hard to not act like the authoritarian or pushy father, especially after your mother had died. He was never like that. And it was because of that you figured it was time to be at least a little truthful. “I quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but -” you said, “I just…needed some time to think things through.” Your dad parked the car and turned to offer you a subtle smile. You were convincing enough, obviously. “Okay, fine. Work in the store until you figure it out. It’ll be like old times.” One hand gripped the steering wheel as he looked at you, almost seeming to peer into your brain as his eyes flicked ever so slightly. “So, uh, is this about your mom? I didn’t know you were still upset about that. I should’ve tried to talk to you more.” You bit down your reply, feeling a bitter taste in the back of your throat, and willing it away. “No, it isn’t. Just forget about it.” A long sigh filled the small space as your father pressed his lips together. “Christ, I can’t be mad at you right now. I’ve always let you do what you want.” This was strange, a particular ache settling inside and spreading to your limbs like an infection. Maybe it wouldn’t stop now that it had started. And the first instinct was to get away and run. Run and run and just get away. “Hon, Y/N,” Your Dad’s voice was pleading, and you nearly missed it. “We can go talk to -” “No!” You blurted, immediately regretting it, mortified at just the thought. How did you speak so fast? “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go inside. We’re gonna be late.”

You didn’t feel any better inside the church, but you weren’t expecting much to begin with. All you could do was suck it up and seat yourself beside your dad. It wasn’t crowded, but there were a few unfamiliar faces, so maybe not everyone would notice your fucked up mood.

Everything felt surreal. You were sitting there in church with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows, and your gaze landed on the one depicting the Virgin Mary.

The word ethereal came to mind.

Everything seemed like it would evaporate into thin air. Like if you moved too quickly, you’d wake up from one of those dreams that just turned out to be inside of another dream.

And when a hush fell over the congregation, you had no choice but to look forward. No matter how your brain fizzes or your fingers tingle. You were forced to look at that handsome face in front of the church and feel the emotion well inside you. Something that felt different than embarrassment or frustration.

Even from this distance, Father Sylus exudes that particular aura, daring to fill the whole church with its strength. You are once again reminded of how inescapable his presence is—not through belief or goodness, but something, someone who felt unearthly, even celestial, as absurd as it felt.

Ethereal. Once again, with that pretty word. How could you even begin to explain it? It was so easy to feel some sort of bitterness, perhaps even selfishness. Who could blame you? Everything always seemed too simple when you looked at it from a distance.

“Good morning,” He began, his voice taking on that strangely powerful, lilting cadence. He paused, hands clasping, and his posture was different. Shoulders broad, spine straight, chin lifted slightly. “I want to take a moment before we begin to discuss why we’re here.”

You were drawn to his words, which had formed an invisible link to you. Maybe if you closed your eyes like you did at night, you could picture that night in the car. It felt foolish because you were certain your own thoughts were desperate. How stupid did it make you seem, trying to replay the sensation? A stupid crush. That is all you wanted it to amount to, even if looking into his fiery gaze had made you feel like you were melting.

“We’re here, in the house of the Lord. Why is this?”

If a month’s insistence on chasing after a flame could be compared to anything -

“Free will.” His tone picked up. “Through our actions, we make conscious decisions. As far as humankind is concerned, free will also makes us human.”

Your breathing stilled. Something terrible seized your gut, a cramping feeling causing you to grit your teeth.

“This is a sanctified place,” he continued, voice rich and filled with energy. “Within these walls, you should experience peace. Not conflict or anger. All are free here because it is with our actions that we build ourselves.”

How the hell did he manage this? The words continued spilling from his mouth, something pulling you further. And after a pause, his gaze filtered over the room again - and landed on you.

Time was beginning to stand still, and you swore your face began to heat up. But, thankfully, the look didn’t linger on you, moving on as he cleared his throat.

Well, fuck.

There was only a tiny shift in expression, and perhaps you were the only one to notice how his pause seemed more lengthy than those before it.

"We - uh.” Father Sylus made a show of glancing down at the notes before him and shuffling a few pages. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. “What I mean to say is, with free will, we struggle against our urges and temptations. Sin beckons - uh,” another loud cough. He looked nervous. Vulnerable. In more ways than one.

Father Sylus hastily pushed aside the pages, shoulders lifting in a deep breath before looking again at the people gathered. He straightened a little, and his powerful tone returned as he folded his hands neatly. “So, how do we resist? It can be hard to…admit one’s faults.” He let out a little huff of air, glancing down again. Then, he stepped away from the podium, stepping along the carpeted dais, hands clasped behind his back and thumbs tapping against each other.

The congregation started shifting. A glance here and there, unable to guess what he would say next. Probably wondering why their priest was acting so…off. If you weren’t glued to your seat in, well, any number of the emotions you were feeling now - you would have high-tailed it out of there already. But instead, you were frozen in place, feeling like an outsider, feeling the shift in the air more than the others around you.

“Take those feelings and multiply them by ten.” He stated, looking towards the back of the church at nothing in particular. It was as if he was somewhere only his mind knew.

“Opportunity is often just an invitation to sin, yes. Free will is a man’s greatest power but also his biggest weakness. With that power comes responsibility. Satan doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns in the middle of the night.”

Oh God.

There was a tense pause and stillness, and you wonder how you managed to sit here and listen. Those crimson eyes trailed around the room, but for another second, a brief and terrifying second, they burned into you.

“Satan comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” He laughed, bitter and slightly hoarse. Then his eyes snapped forward again, unabashed.

He coughed, cleared his throat again, and gestured with a finger above his head. “We all - well, we all think we can overcome any challenge. Big or small. Big and small.” Father Sylus let out a shaky exhale. “Um, the point is...The point is that the devil is ready to collect when you can’t. So, the point is that - uh,” His tone shifted to something smaller that made your insides tremble agonizingly. A breathless, tight sort of anxiousness that stole through your lungs and caused your heart rate to increase. It was impossible to deny that despite the words coming out of his mouth, you actually wanted to hear him continue. “Um, sometimes I think the hardest thing is that we are human, and we are weak.”

Before he could even continue, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed, grimacing, an anguish that you recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked like he might break, the wavering tension almost stifling the room, his expression almost tormented.

“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” And with that, he disappeared into the back, leaving everyone shocked.

Everyone except for you.

“And that’s why I’m never going to church again.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned against one of the shelves in your dad’s store, looking over at Rafayel, who was leaning against the counter, making it his personal mission to get every last drop out of an iced coffee. “You should have seen the look on his face. What a fuck up.”

Rafayel wrinkled his nose, looked around the otherwise empty store, and then glanced at his phone. “Yikes. Poor guy.” He sighed and tapped his foot on the floor. “Talia came home and said he had a migraine - but it’s even more hilarious that a near-public breakdown was because of you.”

“My God, you are awful.” You frowned and stepped forward to lightly punch his arm, reaching out and catching his elbow with a grimace as he pretended to almost fall over. “That’s a horrible thing to say! You were the one who was practically encouraging me!”

“I would never,” Rafayel huffed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s been almost a week now. You’re gonna have to suck it up and face him sooner or later.” With a firm nod, he shook off your hold and dusted his hand on the faded denim of his jeans, turning his attention back to his phone and shaking the ice in the cup he held.

“How would I do that?” You asked.

As if oblivious, Rafayel arched a brow and smiled tightly, peering at you over the edge of his phone. His tone was less-than-reassuring, sounding almost pitying. “No fucking idea.”

You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it as the shop door opened, just in time for the chilly afternoon to bring in your dad and Xavier. You took a deep breath at the sound of the bell and forced yourself to calm down.

As if on cue, Rafayel pushed himself away from the counter and looked in your direction. “Well, Y/N.” He said, tossing a wink in your direction that made you want to reach out and knock the silly grin off his face. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and walked out of the store with a shake of his head.

Your dad mumbled something under his breath before tossing a wave a little too late and heading into the back of the small building.

Unease had settled in your stomach at your friend's departure. You felt as if you had more to say, ask, or get a general idea of as you stared at the shop's door. You ran a hand over your tired face and sighed.

“Hi,” Xavier gave you a careful, controlled smile as you turned toward his voice. “Need help with anything?”

You tried your best not to fidget or bite your lip. “No, but it’s nice of you to offer.” You shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Why? Got nothing else to do?”

“Uh, I work here?” He blinked as he stepped forward. You could take in his softening facial features now that he was closer. His smile didn’t quite fade as he looked around the quiet shop. “Anyway - I um. I tried to call you last night? About dinner?”

Tilting your head in confusion, you froze. Then, you processed the sentence.

Dinner. Shit.

“Oh! My phone went missing. I’m sure it’ll turn up soon or something. Wasn’t the nicest phone anyways,” you brushed some hair behind your ear. “I still can’t figure out how it disappeared!” You forced a laugh at your lie and shifted uncomfortably.

You’d completely forgotten about agreeing to go out with him. How fucking stupid were you? So caught up in the idea of -

“Well, uh, I didn’t plan much. So it’s okay, we can just do something another night. Right?” Xavier suggested, and you couldn’t tell if he had let it go so quickly or was suspicious about your behavior.

Either way, you smiled, rationalizing with yourself for what felt like the millionth time that spending time with him would be a good thing. Any way to keep your mind distracted. Clearly, he still wanted to go out with you, and you certainly wouldn’t say no. After all, who could blame you for latching on anyone who showed the slightest interest?

This would be a step in the right direction, right? Things would get better. They had to. No matter how weird it felt for you to think so.

“That’s fine. Sorry, my head’s all over the place.”

The worst part of it all was the sudden weight in your stomach, the ache in your chest that was becoming all too tiring. Something pushed you in the complete opposite direction of the young man in front of you, towards what you really wanted, and had no explanation for why you did.

“Y/N?” Xavier spoke again and stepped closer, watching your expression with careful scrutiny, his hand reaching out to touch yours, giving you a new feeling of unease. “Hey, um, - you alright?”

Your heart wrenched a little at the worry, and you wondered exactly how pathetic you appeared. “I think so. Can you take over? I gotta step out for a while.”

It grew colder as you walked along the sidewalk, sticking your hands inside your jacket pockets. Clouds gathered in the distance, inching their way towards the suburb. The air smelled fresher, as if it might snow lightly sometime at night. A breeze swept over the street, stirring pieces of your hair from its confines, and you briefly thought you should have remembered your scarf.

Then, you came to a stop in front of the church.

You looked down at your outfit, the jeans and the oversized blue sweater you had found in your mom's closet, when you couldn’t be bothered to do your own laundry. Perhaps she would give you strength, or at least enough willpower from wherever she was to give you the courage to turn right the fuck around and go back home. She was always straightforward in that way, even without the drinking. If only you had taken after her in that aspect.

For a moment, you almost turned to leave, giving yourself the opportunity to simply walk away and go home. However, after a few seconds of mental debate, you stepped along the worn walkway and up the steps, slipping your hand out of your pocket to place it on the worn wooden door.

Somewhere in your mind was a glimmer of hope, the possibility of resolve.

Now that you had gathered whatever courage you had left, you took one last, bracing breath before pushing the door open. A jolt of energy speared up your arms, a buzzing sensation against your fingertips. Once you were inside, everything felt eerily silent. Almost too silent. But as the familiar warmth enveloped you, your body relaxed slightly as you shrugged off your jacket.

The last light from the day was casting through the windows, and the interior was a muted, golden glow and soft orange. It felt warm in more ways than one. Despite the hushed nature of the building, energy thrummed within you. The atmosphere was inviting, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite muster the ability to step forward any further, feet stuck to the floor beneath you. It was ironic, yet in a way, expected; you felt like crying or throwing something, but maybe punching Father Sylus would give you the most satisfaction.

The chapel seemed alien to you as you made your way further inside.

Loneliness was all-consuming, a fear ever present and threatening in the back of your mind. You wondered why it hurt so much. And, you considered whether you have ever experienced a real connection in your life. You zeroed in on the cross beyond the rows of pews as if you could use it for answers. It glinted a little in the evening light that filtered through the stained glass. Your eyes felt dry as they fixed upon the illuminated wood, searching, listening, walking towards the front of the church like a mouse.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You asked your question out loud. The silence of the building taunted you in return, and something constricted within your chest. The rush of it all was consuming, filling your every thought with hope and expectation. A breath sucked in, and you shook your head, blinking. Everything felt off, and you had no idea what your body was supposed to do with itself. “This is so fucked. You know, this is all…just so messed up,” you choked out the whisper and, with a small gasp, swallowed. The emotions swelled. Heavy and pounding and suddenly overwhelming.

Who gave a shit? Nothing would change.

But, maybe -

Would God be willing? Could He lift the spell put on you that would continue to grow?

“Mom is dead, and she’s not coming back.” The words spilled and dropped like shattered glass. “And, uh, it’s just like, that’s fucked up. Isn’t it? Please, it’s - well, I wish I knew, God damn it. Motherfucker!” You swore louder than you should have, not recognizing your own voice. A feeling that had no name gripped your heart. This was it. You were giving up. “Totally fucked up. And you go and make me do stupid shit? What kind of test is that?”

Only silence answered. You wondered how you should feel. As angry as you were, it felt strange to voice it. Finally, saying the words brought unusual comfort, and it was too easy to admit everything now. “Yeah, yeah. You should really apologize, God. Lord. Jesus. Whatever.”

“I’m sorry.” The voice that spoke back did not belong to you. Echoing off the walls and the stained glass, it sent a jolt up your spine, causing you to spin in its direction. Leaning against a doorframe was Father Sylus, looking down at the floor, that shameful expression resurfacing on his face. You witnessed the repentant facade as he lifted his head and looked at you.

It felt like a flood rushed through you, coursing, washing away the anger, seeping into every cell, and filling you with something new. Warm and soft, somehow breaking you apart as it passed. Something indecipherable but true.

Something almost wonderful and exhilarating.

He looked like something you could draw. That raw, exposed sort of aura.

That same warmth enveloped your heart, the comfort expanding across your chest. There was something profound and affectionate within his gaze and the sense that you had underestimated what was truly meant by the phrase ‘care and concern.’

It could have been a few seconds. Or minutes passed as you stood rooted to the spot. The beating of your heart seemed to echo in your ears. Blood pulsed through your veins, the silence around you growing louder.

“For what?” You were almost afraid to speak up.

“For whatever you’re feeling,” Father Sylus stated plainly. Then he straightened, and his look shifted, and for a split second, he stepped forward, only to pause with his fingers twitching at his sides. Maybe there was confusion flickering in his gaze. Or longing. But he still didn’t move from where he stood, as if unable to break the tension he had with himself. After a time, he studied your face and added, “For everything and for nothing.”

After a moment of thought, you shook your head. “That’s vague.”

“It’s all I’ve got.” Father Sylus ran a hand behind his neck, almost nervously, eyes shifting and gaze searching. Another pause lingered between you, and you blinked a few times. He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on placing both his hands on his hips, inclining his head to look at the stained glass windows. “That…and guilt.”

His admission seemed weighted, and his voice was heavy. You watched him take a step forward, then hesitate.

In that second, there was a great leap in understanding. You understood that he would not look directly at you because it would break this sacred reverence between you and whatever else was going on within his mind.

Maybe it’d always been a game, and perhaps you knew deep down that this would be his next move. The inevitable, silent communication. Slowly, you folded your shaky arms over your chest. The look that flashed in his eyes made you shudder. With a new boldness, you swallowed and whispered: “Why are you telling me this?”

Exhaling hard, you weren’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or cry as you awaited your answer.

He swallowed, his dark gaze teeming like a fire in the low light, the red burning. His lip curled. “Because I feel like you can understand it. Why I feel this way.”

A sick urge, sharp and needy, had you crossing the space between you, the air shaking and trembling as he finally took another stride forward. Your eyes traced over his face. Deep and pained and beautiful. His chest heaved. A strange, bittersweet satisfaction filled you.

“I - I can’t stop thinking about -” you broke off, words quivering as you spoke. “Us. The other night - it keeps going through my head, what I said, and -” your voice was breaking again, the achy, miserable desperation settling in.

You could tell he was holding his breath, hands now clenched into fists, gaze searching and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The words hung heavy as he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between you, tilting your chin, and forcing you to look at him. The grip held you firmly, though his eyes remained gentle and pleading. “I want nothing more than to pray - beg for your forgiveness. Try and restore whatever trust I’ve betrayed - but in all truth, God, I -”

Another thick swallow, and he paused, the corner of his mouth twisting. He squeezed your chin lightly as if in search of some answer. Then his hand fell to his side, his head turning to look at the cross behind the altar. Something burned beneath your ribs.

“What is it?” You whispered, trembling with the effort of not spilling all your unresolved thoughts. “Tell me - tell me something, anything, or - or -” You stopped yourself, feeling a little pathetic at not being able to formulate the proper words.

“My path was never exactly clear, but,” Father Sylus swallowed thickly, sounding more scared than ever. “Someone I loved when I was younger - she -” A long sigh escaped his lips. “We were each other's firsts and…We loved each other very much.” He exhaled again. His face creased into sadness, reminiscent and haunting. A sharp pain, almost. One that lingered from emotions held within. The truth was there, plain as day, naked, heartbroken, and fragile. “She died when she was eighteen.”

Pain squeezed at you mercilessly, tight and almost bone-crunching. You stepped closer, your brain slowly putting it all together, realization hitting. Then your bottom lip trembles as you reach out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say after a moment, “that must have been -” Another pause, trying to settle your lungs into a steadier breathing pattern.

He squeezed your hand, looking at you, catching your gaze and holding it, unwavering. “I went to her funeral in a church far bigger than this one with twice the congregation. And later that day, when they put her down into the ground, I listened to the Monsignor pray over her soul.” He looked away again, this time up at the beams in the ceiling. “And I really listened to what he was saying for the first time. And I don’t know why, I just suddenly felt…” He trailed off, and you moved your hand further up his arm, willing him to continue by pressing your fingertips gently into his forearm.

He smiled at the ceiling, faint and apologetic. “I felt at peace. Everything clicked into place. As stupid as that sounds. It was like something I couldn’t understand but needed. And, well,” he shrugged.

“At last, it finally made sense to me,” he muttered. “The power God holds over us was always right there.” Then he turned to face you, his fingers reaching and resting on your cheek, tracing the soft skin of your jaw. “And now, I stand before you - finding these feelings again, the first true connection I’ve felt in years. I don’t mean to doubt anything…but I don’t know how to...”

He let his voice drift off before tucking your hair behind your ear, movements tender. You wondered what he could see in your expression.

“How did she die?” You asked quietly as if the question would destroy something in the air, but you needed to ask it anyway.

The corners of his mouth trembled as he stroked his thumb along your jawline, offering you a small, grim smile. “She was mad at something, drank herself sick. Decided a joy ride on a motorcycle might be a good idea,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and it finally hit you that he kept doing that as a trick to keep himself from crying. “She lost control and swerved, hit a wall head-on. Died on impact. Stupid girl with the dumbest ideas. She used to talk about seeing if the world curved or if the stars continued forever. She was funny and smart - but not as smart as she should have been. Her blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.”

“That’s horrible,” you breathed. The puzzle pieces were assembled together. A crash. Drunk. How similar it was to your mother. Only your mother hadn’t met death head-on. It was still one of those things that made you wonder; which would have been worse? The chance was so similar yet unique. Still, as Father Sylus spoke about it, you swore you felt the faint sorrow he must still carry within himself.

“Sylus, I’m -”

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, finally regaining a certain poise about his face, somehow managing to look warm even at this moment, smiling very softly.

At his words, you realized you were breathing harder than before, and it didn’t go unnoticed as he scanned your face. You didn’t know what was wrong with you; you felt an emotion you could no longer explain. He had experienced loss, same as you, just not in the same way.

Father Sylus let out a dry snort. “It’s not a happy memory, but something good comes from pain. Distrust to trust. Fear to courage. Hatred to love. To an extent, those things make you understand and appreciate everything.”

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his middle, convincing yourself you would forget how to breathe if you didn’t. You embraced him because it felt like the right thing to do, the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingertips. His hand ran up along your side until it rested on your neck's base, soft, gentle, and warm. He exhaled a little before resting his chin on the top of your head.

As he held you, you realized that this was what you had wanted. This was what you had really been aching for. Everything shifted again, changing, rushing with a tangle of nerves and dizziness. Nothing else would settle more easily than being cradled right there, where you could breathe him in.

“Hey, do you -” He leaned back, both hands cupping your face, tilting it to meet his own. It took him a moment to formulate his question. “I shouldn’t ask, but - do you still want me?”

Of course you did. More than anything.

But even then, you should have stepped away. Should have walked out without another word, back to whatever fucking regular life you thought you had. But with whatever strength you had left, you pushed everything aside and quietly said, “Yes.”

He had pressed you against the wooden door of the office, pinning you in place after dragging you in there and shutting the door. Not that you really had any intention of going anywhere. Not with his lips moving against yours, the desperation sending sparks along your skin. His tongue darted out, parting your lips and moving into your mouth. Hungry and forceful and tasting every inch.

“You know,” he said as he pulled back, taking a second to breathe, “It’s so hard to be good when you’re so…” He trailed off, leaving you to only imagine what he would say.

No, you had no words or any logical thoughts, really. Perhaps this was the closest thing to heaven you’d ever feel, surely. And Father Sylus ran his hands down your sides, slow and possessive, grabbing fistfuls of your sweater and bunching it up. Heat began spreading throughout your body as his fingertips crept underneath and stoked along the sensitive skin.

“Will you let me in?” He mumbled, his lips now on the underside of your jaw as his palms spanned across your stomach as if trying to map out every inch of exposed skin. The blood pounded in your veins, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat.

“If this is what it feels like to be tempted,” you mused, gasping as he sucked on the skin above your collarbone, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have already failed. Miserably.”

Letting out a hot breath that sounded an awful lot like laughter, he pulled away, a smile stretching across his lips, amused. “I suppose you really have,” he chuckled. His hands gripped your hips and spun you around so you were against his desk. Then he ducked down to press more kisses along your throat. The shivers returned as he lifted your sweater over your head, tossing it aside with another wicked grin. And for the first time, you noticed the hint of a dimple in the corner of his mouth.

After a moment, Father Sylus fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until that, too, was discarded, skin suddenly bare. The sight made you stop, observing for a moment. For the first time, your fingers reached out and touched the skin of his chest, moving over the muscles and across his stomach. You marveled at the way he flinched slightly, inhaling sharply at your touch.

Everything felt…hot, heavy, and inappropriate in the best way.

And before you knew it, his hands were running up along the bare skin of your stomach, a barely-there brush that made your breath hitch. Then his hands were behind your back, unhooking your bra as his lips found yours again, rough and fervent. As it was removed, there was not a second of delay before his hands cupped both of your breasts, squeezing and drawing his thumbs over your nipples.

“You’re so beautiful,” his hands shifted, fingers resting along the waistband of your jeans.

It was like every little action was becoming overwhelming, sending pulsing waves through every nerve, vein, and muscle. When he popped the button, slid the zipper, and slowly eased the jeans down, the pulsing only got stronger—dizzying with its intensity. It was challenging to focus on anything else that would make more sense. Your mind was clouded.

“Wait,” you breathed, sitting on the desk, pulling the clip from your hair and tossing it to the floor, the waves tumbling out. His hands never left you, still roaming over every little centimeter of you they could get access to, “I -”

It didn’t need to be said, whatever it was. Because a grin broke out across his lips. A bright, glorious grin as Father Sylus pressed another harsh kiss to your lips like he could swallow the words down.

Stepping closer, he maneuvered you onto your back, your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. The smooth, cool wood pressed against the length of your spine and shoulders as you heard something that sounded like a book fall somewhere behind you. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, blunt nails digging in. Breath hitching, your heart thumped at the roughness and passion of his movements. Something animalistic and unrestrained lay just beneath the surface, waiting, ready.

“Let me,” he urged quietly, fingers winding over the lace underwear, dragging them down the length of your legs. Fingers stroked up again, curling and caressing your inner thighs, one hand finally reaching the place where you were already desperate, soaking wet, and aching to be touched. Without hesitation, a digit dipped, sliding along your slick folds and slipping in easily. The motion made you bite down on your tongue as his other hand ran along the underside of your knee, urging your leg up and apart.

You felt the pad of his thumb gliding over the little bundle of nerves, back and forth in a way that made you groan.

“You are,” his voice was low, almost a growl, and his teasing continued. “So gorgeous, laying there. I can’t stop looking at you.” One finger became two. Slick and hot as they moved into you, each stroke moving deeper. All too suddenly, his lips were crashing down against yours, kissing you hard and desperately as if set on devouring you whole.

The only thing keeping you stable was grabbing his shoulder and his upper arm. The sudden rise of pressure rushed around you. His thumb slipped, pressing down a bit more on your clit, drawing another gasp from you, a sound that filled the room. Then he pulled his hand away, an invisible weight settling when the digits were gone, leaving you empty and still aching for more.

“I’m on birth control,” you managed, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed that this, in fact, was actually about to happen. The fullness beneath your belly was spooling tighter, coiling.

It was only a few seconds; that’s all it took for him to undo his belt buckle, his length freed. Straining, leaking, begging to be inside you. The size of it makes you swallow a certain anxious lump in your throat.

“Please.” The word spilled out before you could stop it. The coil inside you grew more and more tense and throbbing. You needed it now; the consequences didn’t matter, nor did the guilt or shame. “Please.”

His breathing hitched as if a long controlled flame within had been ignited. One of his hands rested on your hip, the other hooking under your opposite knee, parting you further and steadying himself. The tip of his cock pressed at your center. You didn’t have any time to prepare because, at that very moment, he was pushing further, sliding into you inch by inch.

The heat and fullness and pleasure coursed, trembling through you.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the grin in his tone, the soft desperation in his voice. “You, you -” but his breath choked off as he pushed all the way inside, the moan that ripped through him cracked and hoarse.

It took you a moment to feel him fully, gasping for air and dazed beyond what was really necessary. Holding tight, you wrapped an arm around his neck, exhaling hard. The room became a haze around the two of you, the entire moment almost suspended, paused, put on hold.

When he moved his hips again, you whimpered as he hit somewhere deep, and your pleasure spiked.

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, raising himself just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with a certain fervor. A little dark, a little feral, something wildly possessive and hungry and yearning all at once. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. Another jolt shot through you. Another strong thrust, this one harder than the last, followed by another. And another. It took a minute for him to set a rhythm, but when he did - you were sure the air was being pushed from your lungs each time.

You couldn’t do anything but hang on. His mouth met yours in a sloppy, forceful kiss. Gasping and shuddering, you tried not to shout at the next jolt. The constant grind fills you every time. Deeper and sharper. The steady, thrumming pleasure. Intense and focused, as if Father Sylus were on a mission. Searching for something. Finding each sweet spot with whatever desperate greed drove him. Like now that he’d had the taste of something forbidden, he wanted the best of it - anything you could offer.

He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, the deep angle making you arch from the desk.

One hand tangled in his hair, the other on his shoulder, gripping hard and pulling him closer, trying to keep him buried deep inside of you. The friction built, the pace driving forward and drawing the pressure up, leaving you malleable and aching for release. But somehow, wanting it to last as long as possible.

When the pleasure spooled tighter and tighter, every breath came short, coming fast and shorter. Until finally with one long, breathy whimper of an exhale, release washed over you, crashing like a wave. His name slipped out of your mouth, some deep, instinctual part of your brain keeping you present enough to utter it, still pulsing around him, shaking.

And that brought him there, a little broken sound falling from his lips. Hips snapping, driving just the slightest bit further until he groaned into the side of your neck, spilling inside you. After a moment, the stillness settled between the two of you, heavy and thick. There was no actual sound other than ragged breathing.

You stared at the ceiling, trembling and a bit boneless, wholly dumbfounded and satisfied. Then, with every ounce of energy left, you sat up, placing a hand on his chest.

“You okay?”

A rush flooded through you at his question, and you struggled to make sense - to be logical and reasonable.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, “I just. I…” What was the right wording? You trailed off, eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Struggling, you kept your eyes away. How could you possibly articulate the warmth that had settled over you, the lift in your confusion that had been gnawing at you until this moment? How could you explain feelings that make no real sense?

“I feel at peace.” A near whisper because your words made it tangible, whatever it was. And really, you did feel lighter. It was as if something weighing on your shoulders had lifted in a way that wasn’t just because of the act that had been performed.

“Really?” A sharp inhale of his breath.

You nodded, reaching out to hold his face and running your thumbs along his cheekbones. Father Sylus slowly returned the nod, a tentative but wonderful, hopeful smile quirking up his lips—something bright and genuine, untouched by bitterness or remorse.

Serenity had sunken in with a comforting familiarity. Settling inside, like the feeling of returning home. Like the truth had opened its door. Acceptance and serenity. Understanding. Clarity, even. The knowledge you weren’t as broken or faulty as you thought.

A moment passed, no words spoken. Then, still breathless and maybe a bit disbelieving, Father Sylus reached out and traced a cross on your brow with his thumb.

“Did you just -” You blinked, a bit indignant as you huffed. “Did you just…bless me?”

He looked a bit sheepish, hands resting on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles along your collarbone. “Guess I did.” With a slight chuckle, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

#lds #l&ds #love and deepspace #lds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lds rafayel #lds xavier #lds fanfic

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pinkandpurple360 · 16 hours ago

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Trying to analyse apology tour just feels like sorting through slop

The opening is bizarre. A silent treatment has blitz crawling back to be listened to, his personality has done a large backflip from the angry pained person he was the day before. To a grinning idiot trying to make his first fan like him again.

He is used in the same way now as he was in the stupid opening song of the previous - for “mean” careless sex jokes, to be contrasted against the overly sensitive weepy, whiny, half self pitying half self aggrandising “woe is me�� Prince. Who is just so above that sort of thing because he’s a deep, generous, kind, occasionally naive and silly innocent romantic precious baby boi with sad backstory. Oh brother. Bring out the violins.

This type of bias from the solo author, Medrano, is just embarrassingly obvious. She gives stolas every win, all of his points are framed as right, she only lets the other character argue if he incriminates himself by warped facts, in a way that can contribute to stolas being right. She doesn’t even try and write this as an “argument.” It’s a case of her favourite OC evar educating and schooling the OC she is less fond of right now, with his superior mind and superior super deep beautiful emotions always put in a background of stars and constellations. Feelings that in truth, don’t go beyond “I want you around cause I’m lonely.”

In between making him cry and weep for our pity, she adds in moments of unfounded indignant behaviour, rage that his privilege dare be questioned, moments of malicious torment, and shaming. Copious amounts of shame. All to pleasure her audience with the satisfaction of stolas winning.

He is just enraged that his ‘feelings’ of attachement that define his identity at this point, are not being returned adequately with acts of servitude, praise, flattery, and gratitude. And while this biased scene is bad enough, Verosika has to be inserted to enable stolas and build him up as if Vivziepop isn’t doing it enough herself with this writing. Because as we probably all know, stolas doesn’t have any friends of his own. He only has Blitzøs adversaries to join with, or a loved one who Blitz is arguing with, to back him up because doing that makes blitz pissed off.

Nobody can defend stolas without just projecting their own feelings about something else, onto him. Or regurgitating his frankly irrelevant tragic backstory. Because this writer knows this is a very bare bones argument she’s trying to make. You have to squint terribly hard and erase a lot of events to make the owl look good and most importantly, look right. Because he isn’t. He’s a creep who believes he fell in love with his object and has never stopped treating him as just an object to throw gifts at in exchange for his loyalty.

He speaks in this whimpery, shaky but loud and overpowering voice, commanding the whole situation. But is given tears in his eyes between each breath enough that you don’t question it. It’s very hard to watch.

The party. What ensues is vivziepop having a slightly worrying fixation with torturing blitz and wishing death on him, using countless nameless voiceless characters as props. And all of them exist, of course, to be enablers of stolas and make him look morally good and correct. But they’re also made into such filthy commoners that the dear pretty clean beautiful prince is terrified of their barbaric rituals. Verosika while rich, is still his emotional support poor.

“He is better than him, he is better than all of them, he is better than everyone. He cries, he gives gifts, he sings songs about his lovely love. Stinky blitz only talks about penises and cloaca’s and says fuck. Stol’s is just so silly, he is baby. Poor baby. Speak from your heart baby.He deserves so much. He sings so fantastic. If you don’t think so, kill yourself.”

Definition of trying too hard. If you’re a writer and one of your OCs takes this much of an emotional hold over you, you need to stop writing and re-evaluate.

#helluva boss critical #apology snore #old draft from July

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leapingbadger · 1 day ago

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The Beach

Summary: During a surprise meet up with Ventress (in my previous story Tested), she suggested Hunter might be force sensitive. He's unable to get it out of his head and needs answers. His brothers try to help him figure it out. It also includes Tech as a ghost which is discussed more in Sunrise and Goodbye. (Read on AO3)

***

Hunter followed Crosshair out of their front door and down the winding path to the beach. The sun had just risen, and the sounds of Pabu’s creatures had erupted with the bright, golden glow. The heat hit him like a wall as his feet crunched on the sloping path.

“You sure you don’t want to wait for the others?” his brother asked in his slow drawl.

Hunter shook his head, “I think it’s better if it’s just us. The sooner we get this done, the better,” he replied.

“Don’t want your armor? Crosshair asked.

“I think you’re overestimating your skills with a knife, brother?” Hunter returned with a smile. “what’s with the paints?”

“Figured when we’re done, I might be able to get some practice in…” he said sheepishly. He fidgeted with his prosthetic right hand and adjusted the canvas under his arm.

They continue the rest of the walk in silence, nodding to various villagers they came across on the way down to lower Pabu. Everyone knew who they were, even if they’d never spoken to them before.

Hunter led the way down to a small bay with a thin strip of beach. It was small enough to not be a favorite with the locals but was a place he came to often. It sat next to the cave where they had first met Ventress.

She was really the reason he was doing this. He hadn’t been able to forget their conversation during his mission with Rex. He didn’t need to prove anything to anyone, he told himself over and over again, but he wanted to be sure.

He and his brothers had never been enlightened into the inner working of the Kaminoan experiments that had created them and had no real knowledge of how they ended up the way they were. Even Tech wasn’t able to get that information, when he was alive.

“I believe Ventress’ theory has merit,” he had said during one of his early morning visits to Hunter. These meetings had become more frequent since Hunter had returned to the island. “But it requires more exploration.”

And so here they were, on the beach, before the others could wake up, to test Ventress’ theory.

“So, what’s the plan?” Crosshair asked, placing his art supplies by a large rock.

Hunter tied the lace on his boots, pulled out his vibroknife and handed it to his brother. “Tech said we needed to recreate Ventress’ experiment but multiple times with different variable,”

Crosshair grinned, taking the toothpick out of his mouth, “so, you want me to throw a knife at you?”

“Yes. Repeatedly,” Hunter said with a smirk, “you think you can bring yourself to do that?”

“I’ll manage,” Crosshair said, looking a little too enthusiastic for Hunter’s liking.

Hunter waded a few meters out into the bay and stood on a jagged bolder peeking out of the crystal water.

He steadied himself on the rock, feet planted firmly. The surface was slippery underneath his boots but he was able to find a place where he was comfortable, without his feet going out from under him. He closed his eyes and pulled his bandana down over them for good measure. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it properly. He heard the chatter of moon-yos scattered about the island, tasted the salt of the water on his tongue. He exhaled and listened.

The familiar schwing of the knife rang through the air as is got closer and closer. He concentrated, brow furrowed, he knew where it was, could sense it second by second as it came closer. He thrust his right arm out and caught the knife perfectly by the hilt.

“Show off,” he heard his brother mutter under his breath.

Hunter raised his arm and threw the knife back, he knew it landed perfectly at his brother’s feet, without really knowing how he knew.

“Again,” he called to Crosshair. He heard his brother take a few steps to one side, throwing it from a slightly different angle. Hunter still caught it easily. Once again sensing it tumble through the air towards him.

They kept at it, Crosshair moving this way and that, backwards and forward to try and find the perfect angle to throw his brother off his balance.

“This is a waste of time,” he called, “I think we’ve proved her point. Don’t you?”

Hunter lifted the bandana from his eye and looked at his brother. He had crossed to his paints and was getting his canvas set up, “not yet. I’ve got another idea,”

He took his blaster out from the holster on his left hip, flipped it to the stun setting and tossed it to his brother who was looking at him incredulously.

“You want me to shoot you?” he shouted

“It’s set to stun,” Hunter said with a shrug, “what’s the worst that can happen?”

“I stun you and you drown before I can get to you,” Cross offered bitterly.

“Don’t sell yourself short. I’m sure you can get to me in time. You’re much faster than you used to be,” Hunter said with a chuckle. He felt a vibration at the edge of his senses. Tech was here.

“This is not what I meant when I said test the hypothesis,” Tech said, mirroring Crosshair’s disbelief at Hunter’s recklessness.

“It’ll be fine, Tech” Hunter said quietly. He noticed Crosshair frowning over at him.

Hunter knew this was ridiculous. That there were a thousand other things he could be doing on this island paradise. But the desire to know, to prove Ventress wrong was too much to bear. He wanted to be able to tell her when he saw her next that he was an enhanced clone like his brothers, and nothing more.

Hunter thought of their time as cadets. He had been able to blend in easily with the Regs. His brothers weren’t so lucky and paid the price for it often. He couldn’t stand it. And no matter how many times he comforted them, talked them down, defended them, fought for them, they couldn’t help but stand out. They were his team, his family, and he wanted to be like them. To make the rest of the GAR respect Crosshair, Wrecker and Tech for the miracles that they were, not the freaks they were made out to be. He’d grown his hair out and gotten tattooed with the symbol of the squad on their first mission so he could represent them in the way his brothers had to every day. He needed this to go away. He was not force sensitive, he was a Batcher through and through.

Crosshair looked nervous as he raised the blaster. Hunter nodded in encouragement and lowered his bandana over his eyes once more. He heard the shot first. He felt the heat of it and an invisible string pulled him to the left, causing it to sail past him over his right shoulder. He had to give it to his brother, he was aiming for his chest.

“Let’s go again, Cross” he called without moving.

“What, precisely, are you trying to prove,” he heard Tech’s voice in his mind.

Hunter wasn’t really sure how to answer the question. “That I’m just like the rest of you,” he heard himself answer in his head. But he didn’t dare say it out loud. That was too personal, cut too close to the depths of him.

They continued over and over again. Crosshair occasionally complaining about having done it all, Hunter adamantly shouting “again” from the rock.

Crosshair was the best shot in the galaxy, even with a prosthetic hand and Hunter was still able to dodge him. How was that possible?

“Last shot, Hunter.” Crosshair called, not giving him the opportunity to argue with his tone.

There was a cacophony erupting on the beach, but Hunter pushed it aside to focus. He waited, senses tingling as he felt the bolt from the blaster explode out of the barrel. This one was coming for him square between the eyes. He felt it get closer and closer. If we went left or right, he’d be in the water. He didn’t even think about it, he just did it. He jumped, higher than he’d ever jumped before, He twisted in a corkscrew, felt his bandana slip off and landed back on the rock on one foot, facing his brother and a crowd that had seemingly gathered unnoticed. He heard the snap of the bolt hit the water.

Omega, Wrecker, Deke, Stak and Mox were scattered behind Crosshair on the beach, chasing Batcher or letting her chase them. The blue Lurka hound bounded this way and that, sand flying under her giant paws.

“Huntah, that was great,” Omega cried, dashing to the shoreline.

Hunter jumped off the rock into the warm water and retrieved his bandana which was starting to sink beneath the surface. He gave Omegas a half-hearted smile and ruffled her hair as he walked over to Crosshair and Wrecker.

Crosshair handed him his knife and blaster.

“So, what now?”

Hunter turned to his left and looked at the vacant space next to Crosshair.

“I hate to say it. But perhaps Ventress is your only option. Only she can give you the answer you seek,” Tech said in Hunter’s head.

Hunter signed and Crosshair and Wrecker looked at him expectantly.

“Tech says I need Ventress to test me,”

“I could have told you that,” Wrecker said with a guffaw, playfully punching Hunters shoulder.

“What’s the problem,” Crosshair asked

Hunter didn’t know how to verbalize it without feeling vulnerable, childish even. “I just…I…don’t want to leave Omega. All of you. It’s not the right time.” he said lamely, sliding his knife in his sheath without looking.

Crosshair narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it but didn’t say anything else and Hunter was grateful.

The rest of the day was spent enjoying the beauty of Pabu. Omega and the cadets made castles in the sand, Batcher chased wildlife into the bay and Crosshair finally got to paint his masterpiece.

Hunter had retreated to the shade of the cave, watching his family from afar. He spun his knife between his fingers, occasionally tossing it over his head and catching it without taking his eyes off of Omega, who was half buried in the sand, head thrown back in laughter.

Hunter felt a vibration at the edge of his senses again.

“Do you think perhaps you’re focusing on the wrong thing?” Tech said. Hunter closed his eyes and saw his younger brother’s form next to him, gazing at Omega.

“I’m sure of it,” Hunter said with a sigh. “It shouldn’t matter. Doesn’t matter.”

“Perhaps you are afraid to let yourself fully relax. Given our upbringing, you’ve always had a problem to solve. What happens to the sergeant when there is no war? No next battle”? No difficulty to fix?”

“You think it’s all in my head?” he almost whispered.

“No. I think Ventress’ observations have merit, but I do not think the truth matters to the overall outcome. Whatever gave you your skills, whether it is the Kaminoan experiments, the force or a combination of the two, you still remain who you have always been.”

Hunter paused and looked at the spot where he knew his brother to be. “You know you could have saved me a lot of trouble if you just said that the last time we spoke,” he said with a laugh.

“You have nothing to prove, Hunter. To them or to yourself.”

“I never felt…like I was really…one of you. It wasn’t the same for me on Kamino as it was for you and Wrecker and Crosshair. It just…didn’t seem fair.”

“I am aware that you were afforded opportunities we were not because you were able to blend in, Hunter. It was the reason you defended us so fiercely. We were aware of this but never felt it made you less than. We all had our afflictions to bear at the hands of the Kaminoan’s and the Regs.”

“Hmm…” Hunter grunted. “Thanks, Tech.”

“You are most welcome, brother.” Tech said, and Hunter could hear the smile in his voice. “May I suggest if you do this again you ask Wrecker instead of Crosshair? The profanity coming from Crosshair’s mouth indicated next time he wouldn’t use the stun setting.”

Hunter laughed and smiled at the empty spot next to him. “I think I’m done. But I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Huntah, we’re going to ice cream. Wanna come?” Omega had bounded over to the edge of the cave, sand covering the lower half of her body, her lurka hound dutifully following closely behind.

“I’d love to, Kid.” He said, standing up and dusting himself off. “Coming?” he said to the vacant spot next to him.

“I will stay as long as I can,” Tech said.

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb hunter #tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb omega #sw tbb #clone force 99 #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #tbb fanfic #sw tbb fanfic #bad batch #hunter #the bad batch hunter #sergeant hunter

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brittuh-b-astro-finds · 2 days ago

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10H pisces moon squaring saturn/pluto (+ 8H/10H placements) 🥲 // yes. yes. yes. it genuinely feels like i suffer in silence most times. i have such deep intense emotions while also constantly feeling others’ emotions. sometimes i get confused on which are mine…on top of that, i’ve always been told from such a young age that my emotions were too much or “oh, you’re too sensitive” and then proceeded to learn how to conceal/repress/swallow them. which then resorts to me not knowing how to process or communicate my already complex emotions and instead just isolate myself or routinely self-sabotage or escape to my inner worlds.

i’ve done a lot of inner work though thanks to my close relationship with my big sister who’s also a pisces moon and has a pisces rising. she really helps me on processing my inner turmoil in healthier ways. i think these sort of relationships are needed for people with these type of placements. someone who genuinely tries to understand you and allows you to simply express emotion.

The Complexities of Having a Water Moon & It's Influence When Dealing With Saturn/Neptune/Pluto Aspects:

I wanted to make a post about aspects and how much influence aspects can have within a chart. (Needless to say the zodiac sign the planet is in/and the house it is in will bring influence as well)

My theory is that when it comes to your Sun, or Moon and there are aspects towards those planets that are extremely tight orbs; (the tighter the orb the more influential it is towards the natal individual) will cause an internal shift, these aspects can influence 3D manifestations of either harsh or soft experiences and situations. The Moon and Sun in a natal individual represents the Mother and the Father as well as your self identity, your ego, the confidence you hold (or lack thereof) and emotional coping styles/how you process emotion and feelings.

To begin, how well or poorly your Moon is aspected in your chart is key to understanding your emotions. It also reveals how you perceive your mother, how she processed emotions, and how she dealt with them.

Therefore if you have a water moon such as a Cancer, Scorpio or Pisces moon, this would mean a few different things with how you perceive your mother and how you process emotions.

Note: Your IC and your moons aspects will be the true dictator of how intense or harsh your emotions/your relationship with your mother can be.

I also personally believe if you have had a harsh or cold childhood then these tendencies to take on other zodiac traits will be more prominent or present, as well as if you have natal 8th, or 12th house placements along with these harsh aspects to your moon then that is when the influence of this will be very prominent.

Neptune rules Pisces

Saturn rules Capricorn and Aquarius

Uranus rules Aquarius

Pluto rules Scorpio

I am aware that Saturn is traditionally ruled by Aquarius and Uranus modernly rules Aquarius, but for this purpose, I will state both rulerships. I will provide descriptions of what it means when these outer planets aspect your Moon.

So if you have a Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces moon that tightly opposes, conjuncts, or squares Neptune, Pluto, Saturn, or Uranus, you will take on traits similar to a Pisces, Scorpio, Aquarius, or Capricorn moon.

(You basically will have your natal moon but with the influence of another zodiac trait; and this can influence your natal moon qualities)

A direct example of this is if you're a Scorpio moon but it aspects Neptune, you may exhibit more Piscean qualities by default. Alternatively, if it aspects Saturn, you may display more Aquarian or Capricorn traits by default.

This also means if you have a Pisces moon that also harshly aspects Neptune, you may be more Piscean in nature, so you deal with more Piscean themes when it comes to love, romance or emotions etc.

Water Moon Aspecting Neptune:

If your Moon conjuncts, opposes, or squares Neptune; then you may have tendencies to act as a Pisces moon when it comes to themes related to emotion. Whatever house your Moon is in will paint a better picture of what theme would invoke Pisces tendencies. This also would be more prominent if you have 12th House placements, such as a 12th house Moon, Venus, Sun, Mars, or Mercury.

With this placement (and on the extreme spectrum), if you have a Cancer moon that harshly aspects Neptune, you might have been the child who comforted or gave aid to your mother starting at a very young age. She might have always been asking for help or been helpless in some shape or form. She might have struggled with partnerships, and she wasn't the type of Mom that you needed. You might have seen her always being pushed around by the people around her or throughout her life, and boundaries weren't consistent in your home. As a Cancer moon, you might have been the one taking care of her, making sure she ate, had enough water, or you constantly worried about her. There were times where she might come to you for comfort rather than the other way around. You more than likely parented her because a part of you felt like you had to, there was this unsaid obligation within where you felt like you had to take on this role.

With a Scorpio moon that tightly aspects Neptune (in an extreme sense the tighter the orb the more influential this aspect will be for the native) the relationship between the two of you might have been more extreme, intense, and emotionally charged. There were constant battles and shifts from intense emotional abandonment to complete presence. If she didn't show you love, you felt her hate. Explosiveness might have occurred, and she might have struggled with BPD tendencies or addiction. She might have shown you how much she could love you; and in an abrupt change of moment, show you how little she could. She might have chosen other people or things over you and her attitude towards you needs weren't a priority. With the Pisces nature she might have cried to you insistently over her problems, she might have shared her past, shared all the hurt she endured, and state how no one 'saved' her or came to her aid when she needed it the most. Because of that you now feel her pain, her damage and her wrath; you now may view her in a place of empathy or understanding, and that could blur the boundaries within you when it comes to accepting a type of love that doesn't serve you when it comes to romantic or platonic relationships.

In a general nature if your moon makes harsh aspects to Neptune your Mom might have struggled with reality, had self destructed coping mechanisms, addiction, dissociation, or she struggled with communicating necessary things to you. Boundaries for emotional support or the parent-child dynamic might have been something you were never satisfied with, and the boundaries between her being a Mom and you being the child were blurred. You understood her pain and therefore felt the need to take on her hurt, you may have allowed her abuse or mistreatment (however minor or severe it is) since there was a part of you that understood why she struggled, acted or made poor decisions.

(If you have a Pisces moon with the moon aspecting Neptune you may relate to everything I stated above)

On the other hand, if your Moon is in another sign or the IC is not poorly placed, or if this does not resonate with you, then your mom could have been overly dissociated in a different subtle manner. It may not have been a detrimental situation involving abuse or intensity, but perhaps she was never open or communicative with you in the way you needed, or she had other priorities or tasks she focused on. Or she may have even been reliant on medical drugs to manage her mental health, which could have created some distance between you both. Maybe she was present but not emotionally present in the way that your soul needed, she might have also brushed secrets, problems or issues away causing distance and reluctance with sharing your own issues or thoughts to her. You might have been confused with how she operated.

Now these definitions may also resonate with you if your Sun harshly aspects Neptune, and if that is the case your Father would be the one who struggles with the above statements. If your Sun isn't in a water sign the chances of his behavior still being influential towards you is still likely, especially if the orb is extremely tight. There are of course differences with how it may manifest but overall there will be similar themes

So with this natal placement and when it comes to your emotional nature, you could now have Pisces tendencies when it comes to how you love, want to be loved, or how you treat others, (especially so if you have a 12th house Venus, Sun, Mars etc).

EX: If you have a 11th House Scorpio Moon that aspects Neptune, you might become more Piscean when it comes to friendships. You may idealize the perfect friend group, long for a connected soul tribe, and place your own needs on the back burner for the sake of others, especially when it comes to friends and your community. You might find yourself giving to your friendships even when those individuals do not deserve your consideration or sacrifices. You place friendships on a very high pedestal, and often the boundaries of how you are as a friend can be taken advantage of. You may allow poor behavior to continue because seeking redemption with friends is second nature to you, especially if you struggle with confidence, self-worth, or self-love. Though you relate to a Scorpio Moon, on a subconscious level, you may exhibit Piscean tendencies in how you react to or treat others. Your emotional nature might be very intense; you may have deep compassion that others don’t share, and you can be more forgiving and open to rekindling connections because you "understand" them.

Water Moon Aspecting Pluto:

If your Moon conjuncts, opposes, or squares Pluto; then you may have tendencies to act as a Scorpio moon when it comes to themes related to emotion. This also would be more prominent if you have natal 8th house placements, such as a 8th house Moon, Venus, Sun, Mars, or Mercury.

Now when you have a water moon and it harshly negatively aspects Pluto, then the intensity of your emotions is more likely to be heightened, prominent, present and emotionally charged. In essence, this adds a deeper and darker layer when it comes to the connection between you and your Mom. It also showcases the relationship with how you process and deal with emotions. You might resonate with either an "all or nothing" mindset, emotions may arise and they might sit in you in a heavy manner, but once the feeling passes it may feel like that feeling that manifested is no longer representative of what you "actually" feel. This would be more accurate for those who struggle with contradictions in their natal chart; such as having an earth Sun or Rising. The more contradictions in your chart the more heavy this aspect will feel.

(The tighter the orb the more influential this aspect would feel for the natal individual)

This would usually also indicate that you search for relationships that hold intensity with constant highs or lows. You may search for eyes to bring you a sense of peace within your bones, and because of that you may overlook everything else about the individual because they allow you to feel so deep within; it fulfills your soul in a way that you can't mimic by yourself. Intense emotions often feels familiar within you and so if there is someone in your life that doesn't "create" that exact intense feeling within, the chances of you being drawn to or interested in them is less likely.

In other words, your childhood likely involved intense emotional experiences. Your mother may have frequently dealt with overwhelming emotions, often creating an environment charged with emotional intensity. She may have shown tendencies of BPD, sharing her feelings in a way that made you feel her pain deeply. As a result, your threshold for intense emotion is now very high.

This exposure may have led you to internalize a similar approach to handling emotions, making you more prone to experiencing emotional turmoil. You may sometimes have explosive episodes due to built-up anxiety or unresolved hurt from those early experiences, processing emotions in a way that mirrors the dynamics you grew up with. In my opinion this natal aspect could evoke internal complexities and self worth/value dilemmas. You may search for external validation where you need others to tell you that you are worthy, valuable or important. Without that outside reassurance the emptiness of who you are as you are may be blurry or nonexistent. You may have dealt with emotional abandonment due to your Mother being physically or emotionally absent in your life. She may have chosen other things, or situations over you which could have caused an internal self belief that you are not lovable, worthy or important. It's important to stay aware of self-undoing behaviors that could cause you more harm than good, especially if you are unaware of any internal wounds you have when it comes to abandonment, self worth, self value or self love.

I won't go too in-depth on how Pluto will manifest with each moon because, in my opinion, all water moons will have similar experiences when dealing with Pluto. But if your Pisces moon aspects Pluto then this might showcase your mother having an extreme behavior when it comes to needing something from the child. The child would either have to place their needs on the back burner by having to save or fix their mothers' wounds. This type of manifestation of the aspect might involve more nuanced or erratic behaviors, such as the mother asking for help or to be saved, then suddenly abandoning the child or leaving without warning. (This is an extreme case; the tighter the orb, the stronger the influence of this aspect).

Now these definitions may also resonate with you if your Sun harshly aspects Pluto, and if that is the case your Father would be the one who struggles with the above statements. If your Sun isn't in a water sign the chances of his behavior still being influential towards you is still likely, especially if the orb is extremely tight. There are of course differences with how it may manifest but overall there will be similar themes

Water Moon Aspecting Saturn:

If your Moon conjuncts, opposes, or squares Saturn; then you may have tendencies to act as a Capricorn moon when it comes to themes related to emotion. This also would be more prominent if you have natal 10th house placements, such as a 10th house Moon, Venus, Sun, Mars, or Mercury.

Another theme worth noting is the effect of a water moon aspected by Saturn. This aspect often creates a heightened push-and-pull between feeling emotions deeply and restraining them, which can be overwhelming. Emotions may arise readily within you, yet due to outside influences or early experiences, you may have learned to keep them quiet from a young age. You might have been taught, that crying signifies weakness, or perhaps you received praise for ignoring your emotions and now that pattern or reaction to emotions sits within you.

If, as a child, you were hurt but, instead of naturally crying, you learned to swallow your pain—and may have even received acknowledgment for doing so—this pattern likely carried into adulthood. This learned approach now shapes how you process emotions, creating a tendency to feel deeply yet keep those feelings hidden, even from yourself. For those with a Scorpio moon, this internal struggle may feel even more pronounced, leading to an even greater tendency to avoid emotions or self-reflection altogether.

In life, you might rely more on logic during arguments and view situations with less empathy than would have if you were a child, you may feel as if focusing on logic is safer or more acceptable than expressing vulnerability. This conditioned tendency may stem from instances when, as a child, you needed comfort that never came. You learned to manage your feelings alone, often in isolation, which now makes it difficult to offer compassion or emotional attunement to others, as you haven’t learned to extend that same compassion to yourself.

In another sense since you have heightened emotions, another way your feelings could manifest is through physical symptoms. You may struggle with OCD tendencies, anxiety or have high reactions to minor situations. This is the only way your body knows how to process the built up pain or emotions you have stored in your body. Physically feeling a symptom often prompts you to act on it which prompts you to self soothe in those moments. But in reality the deep rooted pain within is either still being dismissed or ignored. The one emotion you may only allow yourself to feel is anger, being angry may somehow be the easiest visceral emotion to let out, but behind that anger there is more pain and misunderstanding than you may even be truly aware of (This specific analysis is on the extreme spectrum so if you don't resonate with the intensity of this particular polarity with emotions then disregard).

You may want to give others compassion or empathy but there's this part of your brain that doesn't allow you to do so. You can see others hurting but you can't readily feel their exact emotion within, therefore you may look at the situation as unnecessary. And when you do amount to your heightened emotion the chances of you having an overwhelming amount of feelings is very likely (but this may be more so true for those with a Scorpio moon that aspects Saturn) Overall, you are very sensitive within, you hold more emotion than you readily feel available to acknowledge and you've learned to shun that side of you away; but in one way or another these emotions will come flooding out. You may find yourself highly reactive when you drink alcohol, or you may be more emotional, this is the part of yourself that you more than likely hide or ignore when at wake.

Moreover, a water moon aspecting Saturn often reflects a significant influence from your mother in your life. She may have shared her pain with you in ways that felt overwhelming, while not offering the care, nurturing, or emotional presence you needed. Her emotional needs or turmoil may have often taken center stage, leaving you feeling overlooked or unimportant. She may have had narcissistic tendencies, where she would constantly belittle your pain or hurt and base the fact that she's "hurting" more than you ever could. That alone would cause a great internal struggle within yourself where you would feel like holding onto any emotion promoted more problems, and so you'd rather now ignore anything to do with deep emotion.

Your inner child is now asking for empathy, kindness, and compassion. Give yourself grace and acknowledgment for all the times your emotions were ignored. Deep down, your true self is open, giving, and loving—this is the part of you that wants to be expressed, even if you were never shown that it was allowed to emerge. Now, you have the power to shift your perspective to create a space for emotional fulfillment, and to allow yourself that freedom. But remember you don’t owe anyone anything. If your mother used guilt, pain, or emotional immaturity against you then you have every right to choose what feels best for your relationship with her. However, you do owe yourself the chance to give yourself the kind of care you were never shown.

Now these definitions may also resonate with you if your Sun harshly aspects Saturn, and if that is the case your Father would be the one who struggles with the above statements. If your Sun isn't in a water sign the chances of his behavior still being influential towards you is still likely, especially if the orb is extremely tight. There are of course differences with how it may manifest but overall there will be similar themes

The themes of how your Moon may manifest is also dependent on the house, so if your Moon (especially that aspects Neptune) is in the 7th house, then you may have tendencies to give a lot of time, energy or care with relationships/partnerships. You may feel like you are at your best when you have someone next to you, or you may feel like your identity may rests on "others." You may have a lack of boundaries when it comes to relationships and the part of you that wants to give and give and give is very present and influential with how you operate in relationships. Theres always a part of yourself that is readily available for another, it's more natural for you to give or allow unfair behaviors to occur within your life, especially if you are unaware of your inner emotional wounds.

The way your Sun manifests also depends on the house placement. A Sun on the angles—such as the 1st, 4th, 7th, or 10th house—has a more direct influence on the native. Sun in the 1st house may suggest a father who exhibits selfish behaviors, while Sun in the 10th house suggests a father who prioritizes his work, status, or reputation over the child. He may focus solely on his own needs in relation to work or be physically absent due to other obligations and responsibilities.

Your Sun represents your ego—how you perceive yourself in terms of accomplishments, how you express and present your ideas, and your thoughts. It reflects your confidence and the part of you that directly aligns with what you feel capable of achieving. It's the foundation of how you view yourself, it can dictate whether you struggle with imposter syndrome or feel comfortable stating your mind and desires.

(I won't go too in-depth with how this may manifest since it can be very complexed but if you are interested in learning more when it comes to the Sun let me know in the comments below)

Overall this is all in theory! I wanted to note the possibilities of how natal aspects to the Moon can manifest and if it doesn't resonate or if you don't struggle with the above statements that's okay. This post is more so for those who have emotionally struggled throughout their life, and for those who need to do some reflection and inner healing. As always the entire natal chart will always be a better dictator in how each placement can manifest! 💋

P.S This post is directly about the water moon influence, if you are curious about how these aspects/natal placements would manifest for individuals without having water placements let me know. 💌

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anachronistic-cat · 1 year ago

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One thing I don't often see mentioned in discussions of train systems in Canada and the US as a better alternative to cars is that, historically, train lines have been built through indigenous lands often without approval from the community that cares for that land.

That's not to say that trains aren't better environmentally speaking, or that roads haven't also been built and used in similar ways, just that any proposals for expanding rail lines need to be aware of that issue and done in such a way as to avoid further appropriation of Indigenous lands.

#anachronistic chats #trains #infrastructure #environmentalism #idk i just think its something that needs to be considered when we talk about how good trains are #not that i disagree #i just think it needs to be done sensitively

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nattousan · 8 months ago

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when

whe you, when You were just trying to put i n some extra effort to try adn improve yoursel f and it got misinterpreted as malicious n u get yell ed at

#i'm slow as SHIT at carving the wax when making the dentures #equally bc of time blindness and being meticulous #i am VERY aware of how slow i am and have been working my ass off to try and improve #so when i got told AGAIN that i needed to pick things up #i asked my sis who is also a lab tech how she carves her wax #so she vid called me on lunch to show me how she does it #SO TO TRY AND SHOW MY TRAINER THAT I WAS TRYING TO IMPROVE #i go #oh! my sister suggests i do this and that to improve!#and she gets SUPER MAD AT ME #she GROWLS #LISTEN #you can't keep calling your sister for every little thing #(i'd only done this one other time)#I'M your trainer NOT her #you need to STOP being so damn meticulous and just Pay Attention #and i've tried being patient with you but you need to pick it up #and i was just like #*see above image*#she did apologize later but i think she thought i was like....#trying to undermine her somehow??#by seeking outside help??#bc i'm neurodivergent and asking someone who knows how my brain works??#i know she was just having a bad day probably but having adhd means #Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria #and so i went home like #aheem aheem whimper #nat chats #moi loif #neurodivergent

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antianakin · 2 days ago

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This encapsulates why I think it should've actually been Jacen Syndulla in Sabine's place if they REALLY needed to give Ahsoka a "Padawan" character to play with.

Jacen being very young would hit at her feelings about having been assigned early as a Padawan, especially if he is with her because he ran away from his guardians (whether that's Hera or whether he was staying with Sabine on Lothal at the time maybe, it doesn't really matter), so he has that same sort of impetuous recklessness that she and Anakin both had that gets him into trouble.

Jacen's youth and the fact that he'll never know his father would provide a really good explanation for him doing something as stupid as going along with Baylan just to get Ezra back. Maybe he just wants to connect to the person who everyone talks about like he's Jacen's brother. Maybe he wants to save Ezra because they CAN'T save Kanan and this is the closest he feels he'll ever get to getting his dad back. Maybe he just wants to prove himself to his family because they keep wanting to protect him and keep him safe and won't take him anywhere even remotely dangerous and he gets why, he does, they lost both Kanan and Ezra already, but if he can get Ezra back then maybe they'll finally let him DO things! Maybe he wants to get Ezra back because even though Ahsoka and Luke are theoretically there as options, he's insistent that it has to be Ezra.

Jacen's a blank slate character, we know who his parents are and he has a name, but other than that, he doesn't have a personality already which means he's basically just as good as an original character in this scenario. He needs to be fleshed out in a way Sabine simply does not, and so giving him a fatal flaw to overcome can only ADD to his character rather than taking AWAY from his character the way it did with Sabine.

And of course, Jacen being Kanan's child provides an obvious reason for his Force sensitivity. Even if you went with the idea that he WASN'T Force sensitive, or wasn't SHOWING Force sensitivity, there's more reason for Jacen to either believe that he COULD be Force sensitive or to just be really invested in becoming a Jedi no matter what. It might even be more compelling if he genuinely isn't Force sensitive at all, but he feels like that's the only connection he has to Kanan, the only way he can remember and honor his father he never met, and his arc over the course of the season is to learn to let go of that. He doesn't have to live up to Kanan and Ezra, he doesn't have to BE Kanan and Ezra, he can just be himself, and he doesn't need to be Force sensitive OR a Jedi in order to be worthwhile.

But if you need Ahsoka to have a Force sensitive child, it makes way more sense for Jacen to BE Force sensitive since there's an obvious connection there, and Jacen being a blank slate character means that there's absolutely no proof that he ISN'T Force sensitive in prior media that would make that choice really confusing (unlike Sabine where she's so clearly established as someone who isn't Force sensitive throughout Rebels and so they had to work REALLY REALLY HARD to explain why Ahsoka would ever take her as an apprentice and why Sabine would think this was a reasonable choice to make).

Sabine might not be his actual mother or his primary guardian, but she's somewhere in the realm of being his aunt/older sister and the connection there would clearly be very strong anyway, especially if Hera had dropped Jacen off on Lothal and Sabine was supposed to be looking after him for a while as Hera dealt with some other things on Coruscant or whatever and it's HER that Jacen ends up running away from.

It's not even like we haven't seen a variation of this done really well already with the Kenobi show where Leia is ALSO quite young in comparison to her titular character Jedi master counterpart. So Jacen being young doesn't have to be a reason for why he COULDN'T have fulfilled with this role in the Ahsoka show just fine if they needed a pre-established character with an easily explained connection to Ezra who would be willing to give up everything to save him and who could become Ahsoka's new padawan.

The only reason it had to be Sabine is because Rebels set up that Ahsoka and Sabine were going to go look for Ezra in their epilogue and that story got combined with whatever the original Ahsoka show narrative was going to be, which likely involved some sort of padawan character for Ahsoka to help parallel her relationship with Anakin. So in order for Sabine to remain a main player in the narrative and fit in with the already pre-established set-up from the Rebels epilogue, Sabine got slotted into that role. That was clearly supposed to be Sabine's story and putting someone else into the role of Ahsoka's padawan sidelines Sabine from the story quite a lot.

So even if you do put in Jacen or some other new character in the role of Ahsoka's padawan, you either run into the issue of sidelining Sabine in her own story, or you exacerbate the issue that already existed of there being too many main characters within one narrative which muddied so many things about the show since it was impossible to tell what the story was actually ABOUT or whose story we were meant to be following. The stupid show was a mess and it couldn't have been fixed by just tweaking one or two things. It needed to be wholesale ripped apart into at MINIMUM two separate shows if not three or even four separate shows (Hera's whole prequel to the Sequels narrative about the New Republic didn't belong in The Mandalorian, Ahsoka's narrative, or the Search for Ezra storyline; and if the Mandoverse needed an "Empire Strikes Back"-esque middle part, it should have been its own thing rather than co-opting Ahsoka and Sabine's completely unrelated stories).

The Search for Ezra as a story, and especially the idea of continuing the Rebels story through Sabine rather than through Ezra and shining a spotlight on her in a way that didn't happen very often in Rebels, is a GREAT concept. Whether it was exploring the edges of their known galaxy or going into a whole new galaxy, it opened up a lot of ways to be really creative while telling what could've been a really great parallel story between Ezra's survival and Sabine's search.

Ahsoka dealing with her past and her feelings about Anakin's betrayal was a necessary next step to her story that needed to be told and I was genuinely really intrigued to see how that got handled and how Ahsoka slowly learned to let go of all of her fears and pain and learned to embrace being a Jedi again after so many years. I REALLY wanted to see Ahsoka find her way back to reclaiming that identity after she had given it up and then had it ripped away from her. I wanted to see how Ahsoka taking back her own story was integrated with Ahsoka dealing with her feelings about Anakin's betrayal.

Both of these stories are GREAT on their own and really provide a way to highlight some of the best female characters Star Wars has ever had.

It's too bad what we got ended up being the most Frankenstein'd hackjob I have possibly ever seen that butchered two of the best female characters Star Wars has ever had.

Yknow, a lot of the Sabine characterization problems in ahsoka (having act like an impulsive teenager when she's almost thirty and was never like that even when she was a teenager and had grown out of her negative teenager traits by the end of Rebels) could have been solved if "Sabine" was a different character

And this "not sabine" could have still been connected to Sabine

How

Adopted daughter

Have the role of Sabine in Ahsoka be taken by an adopted child of hers, someone young and impulsive, has heard stories of Ezra Bridger and how much her mother and her adopted family that is the Ghost crew misses him and wants nothing more than to bring him back to make her family complete again, to the point of making several dangerous mistakes

And it also would have fixed the bullshit "sabine has the force now" nonsense

#anti ahsoka show #ahsoka show critical #ahsoka #sabine #jacen syndulla

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triglycercule · 28 days ago

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ok horror didn't go through all the different hundreds and thousands of resets that dust (and killer) went through sure but like. he went through something id consider pretty similar???? because through 7 years there HAD to have been a plethora of humans falling down into horrortale like we can see the countless amount of people that died there in toriel's home or in blue snow or in grillby's or even just that first human that aliza hides behind when she first enters snowdin!!!!!!!

and (i dont really know where this rant is going i will not lie 💀) horror (the prick he is) has to see all these humans he has to meet them and introduce him to all of them and at what point does it just turn into routine for him?? they all just blend into one skin colored bipedal figure and the only important part of them are their insides (which i could go on and on about how gross that probably is 🙁🙁) and how them eventually all fall to their deaths

everyone in horrortale is far too gone to particularly care anyways if aliza wasn't so smart and lucky (plot armor SMH) nobody except horror and paps would probably remember her name. and horror would only remember to add a name to the list of "spices" that are in papyrus's spaghetti and then forget it all again. it's all just an endless cycle of human falls down and eventually dies. nobody in horrortale cares enough (if the human doesnt make some sort of big event happen like how aliza stood up to undyne (i doubt snowdin monsters gaf about her b4 that aside from eating her)) and in the end theyll just turn into food again and then the cycle repeats. its kinda like a reverse dusttale (❓❓❓) where instead of the monsters dying over and over to the human's hands it's humans dying over and over to horror's hands

and now that i've established that 🤓👆 time to tie the trio into this! i mean technically dusttale is a loops of both those things happening with the human killing the underground over and over and then dust killing them in the end??? so i think both dust and horror could relate to that?????

a repeated cycle of a human entering the underground and eventually dying,,,, feeling everything go back to a fixed state (literally with dust's resets and a bit more metaphorically with snowdin not caring all that much in horrortale)

having to start off disgusted with killing and then eventually learning to find enjoyment in it (likely because satisfaction of death is the only reprise from the repetitive slog and boredom that is their aus),,,,

somehow feeling guilt for everyone in their world because of what you've doomed them to by your own hands but also being over it and having grown apathetic. theyre still alive. dust sees his underground alive all the time and so does horror his underground's still (mostly) alive. but dust's underground doesnt survive longer than a few minutes now when they see eithe him or the human (so does it even count as life or is it just a barely fufilled light snuffed out) and horror practically already considers them all dead men walking and theyll all probably die one day anyway with how things are in horrortale so whats the point in even trying and doing something fufilling when everything is so so so shit??? (on dust's end this next similarity is ambiguous :3)

& also what they did to their respective papyruses and how they feel??? ik horror probably feels like shit for tricking papyrus into eating humans but he did the right thing (in his eyes. his EYE). he made the right choice to trick him even if it was bad it was the only thing he could do to help snowdin (sure as hell better than undick's choice to try and use him as cannon fodder for the core) and dust i feeeeel would have a similar thought process. papyrus shouldnt die he doesnt deserve to die but its what needs to be done. he's giving papyrus the longer end of the stick by killing him because its better than being killed by the HUMAN. he doesnt like it but he does it anyway because its what "needs" to be done!!! more similarity,,,,,,, esuaghhhh mtt parallel,,,,,,,

how many more similarities can i milk out. i dont know but anyways i doubt they'd bother talking to eachother about their feelings on this because gawddamn these guys and vulnerability!!! horror wouldn't tell a soul (especially not some freak version of him that killed everyone with some cheap excuse that it was to save them from some freaky human that dust swears he should remember but doesnt. but for the sake of this rant just pretend they dont know about eachother's lore :3) about what he did and what happened in horrortale because THATS HIS BUSINESS!!! dont stick ur head into stuff that youre not involved in PRICK he never gave permission for dust to know that

and dust wouldn't tell either because (i think!!! this part is just me fanonizing dust's reason necessary for this part of my silly horrordust rant. also obligatory "this is all my fanon interpretation of them" because i ran out of space in tags) he doesn't think horror would relate nor would be care. he's gotten too used to not telling anybody what he's doing or why or explaining himself to those he knows and loves back in dusttale so why would he even tell any of that to some random stranger with his only connection to him being that they both used to be the same person b4??

he wouldn't horror wouldn't and they both live in not so blissful ignorance about eachother and just how similar they are. or maybe they only know surface level and make up assumptions and stereotypes because they dont care enough or simply just dont have any attachment invested into eachother to want to actually think things through

TRIGLYCERCULE THIS IS TOO LONG I DIDN'T READ!!!!!! ok 🤣🤣🤣 tldr horror has many parallels and similarities with dust that would only be realized by them if they got self aware enough (which like. when is that ever happening). maybe if they cared enough and liked eachother enough they'd probably bond over their shared similarities,,,,,,,, aka by hunting down horrortale frisk

#guess what song inspired this. no need to guess it was uminaoshi by maretu #i can just imagine him saying the last chorus in the song to aliza..... getting into his feels of faint pessimistic hope of her saving them #and then he just turns around and says the probably part. to distract from the fact that he was getting into his emotions #sure you can save us. sure you'll make us happy. all because you've done nothing wrong right? probably.#ignoring the fact that the song is about a girl giving birth repeatedly with the baby dying repeatedly just so she can get it right #i think the song fits horror preeeetty well!#the coward's easy way out as an mtt fan is saying horror is different from killer and dust #but the chad alpha mtt fan would say theyre all similar to eachother #is horror REALLY that different from dust and killer??? IS HE?????? not particularly #mtt all peak because they all connect with eachother SO well TRUST TRUST #i had this thought under hrkl mentality but maybe it could apply to all of the trio but #horror and dust have killed countless humans. i probably need to touch up my smthnew lore but killer only 1 (chara)#and bc he hasnt done much in the human factor of murder he might ask hrdt about it to see what its like #and maybe imagine it was chara he was killing perchance who knows maybe he'll project their experiences onto himself #imagine all the different ways he would've killed chara if he didn't have one risky shot to end them there #and its all thanks to horrordust's insightful experiences! thanks fellas!#again this is under the assumption that killer's only killed ONE human #but (again) since hrdt are desensitized to blood and gore and guts and stuff #and killer hasnt. would he be like. gore sensitive. cannot handle the sight of human death #he can handle monster dust sure fine! can he handle seeing acids and blood and organs spill out of a body #it remind him of chara and when he killed them. it was cathartic. but also he killed THEM. it was a conflicting moment #maybe a part of him would like it maybe a part of him wouldnt. both for the same reason that it reminds him of them #that last sentence is intriguing i should ponder that more. mtt hunt down ht frisk when and how and why and what lead up to it and #this is what my horror analysis google doc looks like. disgustingly long and rambling paragraphs #tricule analysis #horror sans #dust sans #murder time trio #utmv #sans au

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