#just to pretend they all that. or to lie to themselves and CONVINCE they all that

[moonchild-in-blue]

See, it's hard to take Tyler seriously, cus on one second you're listening to an incredibly emotionally heavy song about his father, and then you open your phone and this is the album cover 🙃

He's just a silly goofy guy 🥹

[cave-monkey]

Monkey King 2009 Episode 3

Them having Stone Monkey (apparently purely on instinct) constantly scratching while being introduced to the troop was pretty cool, since that's a legitimate deescalation behavior in monkeys. Something about how revealing stress acts as a bonding behavior and makes it less likely they'll be attacked. Humans do it too, kind of, when they rub at their hands or shoulders or neck (etc. etc.) when nervous or overwhelmed. ("Empathize with me! I am very stressed!").

Also something-something instinctive behaviors aside Stone Monkey being excited/overwhelmed/maybe a little overstimulated and choosing "ESCALATION!!!" as his response to all of that. He thinks the troop being scared of him is hilarious. He's scratching the fur off his arms but he's also going to get right up in your face anyway. Cautiously join him in admiring his cool new rock? He is going to play-lunge and also scream. Absolutely amazing. The troop has no idea what to do with these mixed signals. This kid is a menace and I love him.

Six Ears even gets in on the scratching behavior occasionally in the background, which might be because Stone Monkey actively terrorizing literally everyone trying to be playful (because he has the social skills of a literal, actual rock) is stressing Six Ears right out or it could be an attempt to deescalate on Stone Monkey's behalf. Monkey version of following in his new friend's wake throwing apologetic grimace-smiles at everyone. Possibly it's both. Point is: They included these behaviors and it's very fun.

You can also tell it worked because in just the journey to the cave you watch the four generals' views on Stone Monkey go from "uncanny valley horror entity lurking in the forest probably to kill us all" to "what a rude little kid >:| Emphasis on RUDE."

And, okay, I admit, I have softened my stance on the four generals. Somewhat. They seem to actually be taking their jobs seriously now. Maybe Episode 1 was a wake-up call and they won't utterly fail to notice an incursion until it's in the heart of their territory again. I don't want to go too crazy, but maybe they'll even be able to even muster a coherent response! Good for them.

Should probably still not be managing children, though.

Speaking of, Six Ears's increasing despair watching the train wreck in motion that was the four generals fumbling hard in giving Stone Monkey his very first etiquette lesson after he finally settled down and seemed willing to hear them out is also very relatable and hilarious. He knows they failed the test. Stone Monkey is definitely never going to listen to them again. They blew it. RIP Flower Fruit Mountain.

Stone Monkey does check in with Six Ears when he decides the generals are useless about explaining though, and that's pretty cute. He trusts his friend :) He also definitely internalizes that thing about having to ask to leave the presence of the king, so at least they managed to teach him some manners. ONE manners. A single manner. (Spoiler: They immediately regret this.)

But hey! This time Six Ears is left entirely to his own devices and still manages to get caught smack in the middle of enemy action. Not the Generals' fault for once! Six Ears just attracts this kind of thing, I guess.

3/3 Six Ears is Damsel-ed, but only 2/3 it's the adults' fault. The tally develops.

[gf2bellamy]

enough — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you don't think you're enough for spencer content warnings: mention of working on a case, feelings of insecurity / not feeling good enough, spencer and reader argue , alot of angst ( pretty much all of it) a/n: currently sick in bed :( hope you guys like this <3

part 2

You knew Spencer Reid had feelings for you. It wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret. In fact, everyone on the team seemed to know—how could they not?

The way his gaze lingered on you just a fraction longer than anyone else, the way his words stumbled over themselves when you caught him off guard, the subtle softness in his voice when he said your name.

Spencer was careful, meticulous in everything he did, but when it came to you, his emotions were a little too obvious. 

There were the small, thoughtful gestures—the extra cup of coffee waiting on your desk when you’d been up late on a case, or the way he always seemed to know exactly when you needed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

Then there were the bigger things, like how he always volunteered to partner with you in the field, or how he fiercely defended your theories in meetings, even when they weren't perfect. 

But maybe the most telling sign of all was the way Spencer looked at you.

Like you were the only thing in the room worth noticing.

It was like he was memorizing every detail of your face, committing you to the library of his mind. And every time he looked at you like that, a warmth bloomed in your chest—a warmth you weren’t quite ready to name, but one that you felt more often than you cared to admit. 

Penelope had asked you multiple times about the situation, her curiosity impossible to suppress. “So, when are you and Boy Genius making it official?” she’d tease, wiggling her eyebrows and leaning across your desk.

Each time, you laughed it off or deflected with a joke. “What are you talking about, Pen? Spencer and I are just friends,” you’d insist, even though the words felt more and more like a lie with every passing day. 

Pretending to be oblivious to Spencer’s feelings had once been easy. A flick of the wrist, a casual smile—it had been enough to convince everyone, including yourself, that you were completely unaware. But lately, it was getting harder.

Much harder. 

Because now, every time you caught him staring at you, every time his fingers brushed yours while passing a file, every time he leaned in just a little too close when he explained something in that excited, rambling way of his, you felt it. That same warmth in your chest, that same ache you’d been trying so hard to ignore. 

The truth was, you weren’t just aware of Spencer’s feelings for you.

You also felt the same way. 

Your fingers tapped absently against your desk, a sound that seemed to echo in the quiet bullpen. Your eyes were unfocused, fixed on nothing in particular, as your thoughts wandered far from the case files scattered in front of you. 

Across from your desk, Spencer was watching you. He tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in concern as he debated whether or not to say something. 

“Are you okay?” His soft voice cut through the quiet, pulling you back to the present. 

“Huh?” You jumped slightly, your hand pausing mid-tap as your head whipped around to face him. Your wide eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you added quickly, your words rushing out. 

Spencer didn’t look convinced. He leaned forward just a little, resting his elbows on the edge of his desk as his gaze searched yours. “You seemed... distracted,” he said carefully. 

You laughed nervously, waving a hand as if to brush off his concern. “Just zoning out. It’s been a long day.” 

Spencer didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at you for a while, his hazel eyes soft but searching, like he could see through the thin veil of your words.

The weight of his gaze made your pulse quicken, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. 

“I’ll be right back,” you blurted suddenly, pushing your chair back. Without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the bullpen, your footsteps echoing down the hallway until you reached the bathroom. 

Inside, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and stepped into the nearest stall, closing the door behind you. Sitting down on the closed toilet lid, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d run away like this. You weren’t proud of it, but sometimes it felt easier to escape than to face the thoughts that clawed their way to the surface when Spencer was near. 

People might call you stupid.

Stupid for ignoring the feelings of someone so gentle and sweet.

Stupid for pretending not to notice how much he cared for you, how much he had done for you.

Stupid for not taking the first step when it was obvious to everyone, including you, that Spencer Reid had feelings for you. 

But it wasn’t just Spencer’s feelings, was it? No, the truth was much harder to ignore now: you had feelings for him, too.

And yet, here you were, hiding in a bathroom stall, running away from everything. 

The reason felt silly—childish, even—but it was there, and it was real.

You were scared.

Scared that if you took that step, if you let yourself fall into the warmth of what Spencer was offering, you’d ruin him.

Spencer, who was so sweet and intelligent, so thoughtful and patient. He was everything good in this world, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d taint him with your flaws, your insecurities. 

You didn’t think you were enough for him. 

The thought sat heavy in your chest, and no matter how much you tried to push it down, it always came back.

Spencer deserved someone extraordinary, someone brilliant and perfect—someone who wasn’t you. 

Before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek. 

You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open. 

A familiar, soft voice called out your name.

You quickly straightened up, dabbing at your cheeks with trembling fingers, but it was no use. The tears had already left their mark. 

You opened the stall door cautiously, revealing Penelope standing there in all her vibrant glory. Her floral skirt swirled around her knees, and her cardigan was adorned with her signature pins and patches.

Her warm, concerned eyes locked onto yours the moment the door swung open. 

“There you are,” she said gently, a small smile playing on her lips as she tilted her head. “Spence sent me to check on you. He’s worried.” 

Of course he did. The thought made your chest tighten. 

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the obvious evidence of tears. But Penelope wasn’t one to be fooled, especially not by you. 

She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Sweetheart, you’re standing in a bathroom stall looking like you just had a tearful heart-to-heart with yourself, so forgive me if I don’t take ‘I’m fine’ at face value.” 

You tried to laugh, but it came out shaky and weak. “It’s just... been a long day.” 

Penelope crossed her arms, giving you that patient, knowing look that only she could manage. “I know there’s more to it than that. Spence wasn’t just worried about you zoning out—he was worried about you. And judging by those red eyes, I’m guessing he’s not wrong for being worried.” 

You sighed, leaning against the stall door for support. “It’s nothing, Pen. Really.” 

Penelope softened, she placed a comforting hand on your arm. “If it’s nothing, why were you crying?” 

For a moment, you considered brushing her off again, but something about her warmth, her openness, made you pause.

Maybe it was because she was Penelope, the team’s heart and soul, or maybe it was because a part of you was tired of holding it all in. 

“It’s... about Spencer,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Penelope’s eyes lit up in understanding, and a soft smile crept across her face. “Oh, honey. Tell me everything.” 

You let out a shaky breath, walking over to the sink and staring at your reflection. The person looking back at you seemed fragile, her emotions etched plainly on her face.

Penelope followed, standing beside you, her vibrant presence grounding you as she waited patiently for you to speak. 

“I have feelings for Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the bathroom’s fluorescent lights. 

Penelope didn’t gasp or exclaim. She simply tilted her head and nodded, her soft smile growing into something more knowing, like she’d been waiting for you to admit it. 

“I figured as much,” she said gently, her tone free of judgment. “But what’s got you hiding out in here instead of doing something about it?” 

You met her eyes in the mirror, hesitating for a moment before answering. “Because I’m scared, Penelope.” Your fingers gripped the edge of the sink tightly. “I mean, he’s Spencer. He’s brilliant and kind. He deserves someone amazing, someone who can keep up with him. I just—I don’t think I’m enough for him.” 

Penelope frowned, her brows knitting together as she turned to face you fully. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. First of all, I am going to stop you right there, missy. You are more than enough for anyone, especially Spencer Reid. Don’t even try to argue with me on that.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but she held up a finger to silence you. 

“Second,” she continued, her voice firm but still warm, “have you met Spencer? That man practically worships the ground you walk on. Do you know how rare that is? To have someone like Spencer look at you the way he does? Trust me, sweetie, he doesn’t see anyone else but you.” 

You blinked, Penelope’s words hitting you harder than you expected. “But what if I mess it up? What if I ruin everything?” 

“Sweetheart,” Penelope said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “life is messy. Love is messy. But if you keep letting that fear hold you back, you’re going to miss out on something incredible. Spencer wants you. Not someone perfect, not someone else. You.” 

Her words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. For a moment, all you could do was stare at her, overwhelmed by her kindness and sincerity. 

“Thank you, Penelope,” you whispered, your voice soft and earnest. 

She gave you a bright, reassuring smile, squeezing your arm gently. “Don’t stay here too long, okay? Boy Genius is worried about you, and you know how he gets when he’s worried.” 

You managed a small smile, nodding as she opened the bathroom door. “I’ll be out soon.” 

“Good,” she said with a wink, stepping out into the hallway. The door swung shut behind her, leaving you alone once again. 

You turned back to the mirror, your reflection staring back at you with the same doubts you’d walked in with. Penelope’s words were honest, comforting, and so full of truth that they made your chest ache. And yet... the doubts didn’t leave. 

They stayed. 

What if Penelope was wrong? What if you tried, and it all came crashing down, leaving your friendship in ruins? 

You pressed your lips together, inhaling a shaky breath. There was a part of you—a small, fragile part—that wanted to believe Penelope.

But the larger, louder part of you couldn’t let go of the fear. 

“Get it together,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the sink tightly. 

You couldn’t stay in this bathroom forever, hiding from the man waiting for you outside.

The man who cared enough to send someone after you when you disappeared.

The man who had always been there, quietly offering you the kind of unconditional support you never thought you deserved. 

And yet, your feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. 

The days that followed felt heavier, even after Penelope’s heartfelt pep talk. Her words lingered in your mind like an echo, but they weren’t enough to silence the whirlwind of emotions.

Everything seemed harder now that you’d acknowledged your feelings—now that you couldn’t hide from the truth. 

Sometimes, it felt like your heart was about to burst with how much love you held for Spencer.

You’d catch yourself staring at him across the bullpen, watching the way his lips moved as he explained something in that fast, excitable way of his, or the way his fingers traced invisible patterns on the edge of a file when he was deep in thought. 

And then there were the moments when you were near him—too near. Your hands would tremble when they brushed his by accident, or your breath would hitch when his cologne lingered in the air between you.

But you didn’t do anything about it. 

You convinced yourself it was for the best, that keeping things the way they were was safer. You couldn’t risk crossing that line and ruining the friendship you’d come to treasure so much. 

Still, there were cracks in your resolve. 

You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up—pretending you didn’t feel what you felt, pretending you didn’t want to close the gap between you and let yourself fall. 

One day, the tension came to a head while you and Spencer were working on the geographic profile to catch an unsub. The bullpen was unusually quiet, the rest of the team out gathering leads.

It was just the two of you, standing side by side in front of the board, the scent of coffee and marker ink filling the air. 

You reached for the same photo pinned to the board—a shot of a potential target area—and your fingers brushed his.

It was barely a touch, but it sent a jolt up your arm, and you immediately pulled back as if burned. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. You avoided his gaze, letting him take the picture as you stepped back. Not just one step—several, putting unnecessary distance between the two of you. 

Spencer hesitated, holding the picture in his hand as his eyes flicked to you. His brows furrowed slightly, concern shadowing his expression as he noticed how much space you’d suddenly created between you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and careful, like he was afraid of startling you. 

Your throat tightened. “I’m fine,” you said, the words automatic and unconvincing. 

Spencer wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his gaze searching yours in that way that always made you feel like he could see right through you.

“You’ve been... distant,” he said, his tone gentle. “Not just today, but for a while now.” 

You froze, your heartbeat quickening. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth. 

He stepped closer, closing some of the space you’d put between you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. “If I did, I—I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me.” 

Your chest tightened painfully at the vulnerability in his voice. The idea that he thought he had done something wrong, that he might blame himself for the distance you’d created, made your stomach twist with guilt. 

“No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. "It's just work has been getting to me.”

You turned away quickly, pretending to focus on the map pinned to the board. Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt Spencer’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he finally turned back to his own work. 

He let it go—for now. 

Later that evening, you were back in your hotel room, sprawled on the bed with the TV remote in hand. The case was successfully closed, the unsub in custody, but the team had decided to stay one more night before flying home.

You flipped aimlessly through the channels, barely registering the images flashing on the screen. Nothing held your attention for more than a few seconds, and the quiet hum of the TV did little to drown out your thoughts. 

With a loud yawn, you tossed the remote aside, letting it land on the bed. You leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling.  

Then came a knock at your door. 

Slowly, you got up, smoothing down your clothes as you walked to the door. 

When you opened it, your breath caught. 

Spencer stood there, hands in his pockets, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. He was still in his dress shirt and slacks, his tie loosened just enough to suggest he’d been pacing or thinking too much, as he often did.

His hazel eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of hesitation before he finally spoke. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice gentle but steady. 

“Spencer?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?” 

“I—I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice laced with hesitation. He shifted his weight nervously, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. “Can I come in?” 

You stared at him, your heart racing as you tried to decipher the look in his eyes. Finally, you nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to prepare yourself for whatever he wanted to talk about.

Turning back around, you walked a few steps toward him, stopping just a short distance away. You were close enough to notice the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the tension in his posture as he stood there, clearly working through whatever thoughts were racing in his mind. 

You found yourself fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, your fingers twisting and untwisting the fabric as you waited for him to speak.

Finally, Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes meeting yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “And I know I’ve been overthinking it, probably more than I should. But I—I couldn’t keep waiting.” 

Your fingers stilled, your breath catching as his words hung in the air. 

“I’ve noticed you pulling away,” he continued, his brows furrowing slightly. “And I’ve been trying to tell myself that maybe I was imagining it, but... I don’t think I am.” He paused, his gaze searching yours. “Are you sure I didn't do something wrong? Because if I did, I’ll fix it—I want to fix it.” 

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, guilt and affection warring within you. “No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He looked relieved for a moment, but the tension didn’t fully leave his face. “Then what is it? Because I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

His honesty was disarming, his vulnerability leaving you with nowhere to hide. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, the words caught in your throat. 

“It’s... complicated,” you finally managed, your voice barely audible. 

Silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy. Spencer stood still, watching you intently, as if trying to piece together a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His gaze flicked to your hands, noticing how they still fidgeted nervously with your clothes. 

And then he spoke. 

“I’m in love with you,” he said, the words falling from his lips so suddenly and so earnestly that they cut through the air like a blade. 

Your hands stilled immediately, your breath hitching as you raised your head to meet his eyes. The room seemed to shrink around you, everything else fading into the background as his words echoed in your ears. 

You hadn’t expected him to say it. Not like that. Not so bluntly, with no preamble or hesitation. And now, faced with the weight of his confession, you found yourself frozen, unsure of what to do or say. 

Spencer’s eyes darted nervously, meeting yours and then flicking away before returning.

He was waiting—for your answer, your reaction, anything. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your mind racing too fast to form a coherent response. 

The silence stretched on, and you saw something shift in his expression. Disappointment. 

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice tight, the hurt evident as he took a small step back. “I shouldn’t have—” 

“Stop,” you said, shaking your head, cutting him off mid-sentence. 

Spencer froze, his eyes wide and uncertain as he looked at you. 

“Don’t apologize,” you said softly, your voice trembling but resolute. You took a shaky breath.

You weren’t sure what to say to him, honestly. It was like your heart was trying to escape from your chest, but the words just wouldn’t come out. 

You looked at Spencer, his hair falling into his face just the way it always did when he was anxious or lost in thought. You had this overwhelming urge to reach out, to gently push his hair back behind his ear, but you didn’t.

Instead, you just stood there, staring at him, feeling more unsure than ever. 

"Spence, look, I—" you started, your voice faltering as you tried to gather your thoughts. 

His eyes were fixed on yours, waiting. He was so patient, so willing, and it made your chest tighten even more. You tried again, your words tumbling out as you fought to explain. 

“I didn’t want to mess things up with you. I’ve been scared that if I told you how I feel, it would ruin everything. Because... you deserve someone better than me, Spencer. You deserve someone who can give you the world, who can keep up with you... not someone like me.”

You caught yourself, blinking rapidly as the words tumbled out of you, not sure if you were even making sense anymore.

But it was like you couldn’t stop.

“I’ll ruin you, Spencer. I’ll drag you into my mess, and you’ll wake up one day and realize you could’ve had someone better. Someone who doesn’t second-guess every little thing or put up walls because they’re too scared to let anyone in.”

“That’s not how I see you,” Spencer said, his voice soft as he took a step closer to you. “You’re not a mess. You’re not some burden I’d have to carry. You’re—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, shaking your head as tears pricked at your eyes. “You don’t get it. You think I’m this... this version of me that you’ve built up in your head, but I’m not that person. I’m not perfect. I’m not enough.”

“Stop saying that!” His voice rose slightly, the frustration finally breaking through. You looked at him, startled, as he ran a hand through his hair. “You keep telling me what I should feel, what I deserve, like you get to decide that for me. But you don’t. I know what I want, and it’s you.”

“Spencer—”

“No, let me finish,” he said, stepping closer. “I don’t care about perfect, okay? I don’t care about whatever doubts you have about yourself, because none of that changes the fact that I love you. I love you for you, not some idealized version. And if you think for one second that I’m going to stand here and let you push me away because of some fear that you’re not ‘enough,’ then you don’t know me as well as I thought.”

His words hit you like a wave, but instead of feeling comforted, you felt overwhelmed. The emotions swirling between you both—the love, the fear, the frustration—felt like too much all at once.

“You’re not listening to me,” you said, your voice rising. “You think this is just me being insecure, but it’s not. This is me being realistic. You deserve someone who doesn’t bring you down, someone who doesn’t doubt themselves every time they look in the mirror.”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You’re the one bringing yourself down, not me. You’re the one who thinks you’re not good enough, but that’s not the truth. It’s your fear talking, not reality.”

“And maybe my fear is right,” you shot back, your voice cracking. “Maybe it’s telling me what I already know—that you’re too good for me, and I can’t be what you need.”

He stared at you, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath. “You think you’re protecting me by pushing me away, but you’re not. You’re just hurting both of us,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like this—like I’m not alone. Like I’m more than just... me. And I’m not going to let you stand there and tell me you’re not enough.”

The room felt suffocating, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

But still, the doubt clung to you, thick and unrelenting. “Spencer, I just... I can’t,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His shoulders slumped slightly, the frustration in his eyes giving way to something softer—something sad. “I don’t know how to convince you,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with defeat. “But I can’t force you to believe me.”

For a moment, he just stood there, silent and still, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“I don’t know what else to say,” he finally murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet hurt that made your chest ache.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. You felt paralyzed, the fear and doubt swirling inside you.

Spencer looked back up at you, his hazel eyes searching yours one last time, as if hoping to find something—anything—that might give him a reason to stay.

When he didn’t, a faint, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Goodnight,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

And then he turned, walking toward the door with a heaviness in his steps that you’d never seen before.

Your heart twisted as you watched him reach for the handle, every fiber of your being screaming at you to stop him, to say something, to fix this.

But the words refused to come.

Spencer paused for a fraction of a second as he opened the door, his back to you. It felt like time stood still. Then he stepped out, quietly closing the door behind him.

The sound of the latch clicking into place was deafening.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the closed door, your chest tight and your head spinning. The room felt unbearably empty without him.

And yet, you didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Instead, you sank onto the edge of the bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears you’d been holding back finally broke free.

You didn’t know what hurt more—the fear that you’d pushed him away for good or the possibility that you’d been wrong about everything.

[avocado-writing]

don’t look at me, men deserve to feel pretty. based off this pic. minors dni.

he feels pretty stupid.

if the someone had approached him, say, fifteen years ago with this idea, he’d have absolutely told them to go and fuck themselves. the shield of his masculine bravado would have prevented it - an impassable barrier. cute girls wear stuff like this, after all, not big guys like him.

but…

he’s older now. mellowed. when Wade pitches an idea for something kinky he’ll try and pretend not to be interested, but when you ask him, too? when the pair of you gang up on him, two pairs of pleading eyes and soft, sensual, suggestive hands?

ah, fuck. he’s weak. he finds he’d do just about anything to make you two happy. you both would for him, after all.

at the moment he’s just laying there, wearing nothing but pink lace around his cock. the two of you are staring, and he’s pretty sure Wade is actively salivating. your eyes are just wide and wanton.

he shifts.

“can one of you fuckin’ speak? feel like I’m on display here…”

“that’s kinda the idea, peanut,” breathes Wade, too enraptured at the sight for his usual quips. damn. he must be doing something right, then, Logan guesses, if it shuts the merc up maybe he should do this more.

“they’re comfortable, I wear them all the time,” Wade had said while trying to convince him, and as proof had hooked a thumb under the waistband of his sweatpants to reveal clinging chantilly at his hip. “plus they fit so nice under the suit. can’t imagine ever going back, not when my ass looks so damn good in pink. isn’t that right pookie?”

“that’s right,” you’d hummed, dropping a kiss on Wade’s skin over the lace. Logan remembers the way Wade had let out a juddering sigh at that. you’d left it with a simple, “you don’t have to, Lo. but it’d drive us both kinda crazy.”

you’d been right.

“Logan, you’re so pretty,” you sigh, finally closing the gap, crawling up the bed slow and seductive. he feels the mattress dip as Wade mirrors your movements so that the two of you can hook a thigh over either one of his legs. ‘pretty’. once he’d take that as an insult, a joke… but he knows you mean it as the highest compliment.

maybe he doesn’t mind so much.

“fuckin’ better than anything hanging in any shitty art gallery. and speaking of hung…” Wade presses a kiss to Logan’s cock. his lips over the fabric give just a ghost of warmth, a little tease of what’s to come, and Logan feels himself begin to harden. when you reach down to run your tongue across the elastic and up to that vein which pops out on his abdomen he leaks a little.

you and Wade are delighted.

”you’re gonna ruin these…” you sigh, faux-annoyed, obviously thrilled.

“see? I knew you could be kinky,” Wade claims.

Logan huffs.

“shut up, or I’ll take these off and gag you with ‘em.”

Wade lights up.

“promise?”

you chuckle and go back to kissing him.

“lie back, Lo, we’ve got you.”

he does, and you do.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

I assure you, an AI didn’t write a terrible “George Carlin” routine

There are only TWO MORE DAYS left in the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

On Hallowe'en 1974, Ronald Clark O'Bryan murdered his son with poisoned candy. He needed the insurance money, and he knew that Halloween poisonings were rampant, so he figured he'd get away with it. He was wrong:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ronald_Clark_O%27Bryan

The stories of Hallowe'en poisonings were just that – stories. No one was poisoning kids on Hallowe'en – except this monstrous murderer, who mistook rampant scare stories for truth and assumed (incorrectly) that his murder would blend in with the crowd.

Last week, the dudes behind the "comedy" podcast Dudesy released a "George Carlin" comedy special that they claimed had been created, holus bolus, by an AI trained on the comedian's routines. This was a lie. After the Carlin estate sued, the dudes admitted that they had written the (remarkably unfunny) "comedy" special:

https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/01/george-carlins-heirs-sue-comedy-podcast-over-ai-generated-impression/

As I've written, we're nowhere near the point where an AI can do your job, but we're well past the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

AI systems can do some remarkable party tricks, but there's a huge difference between producing a plausible sentence and a good one. After the initial rush of astonishment, the stench of botshit becomes unmistakable:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/jan/03/botshit-generative-ai-imminent-threat-democracy

Some of this botshit comes from people who are sold a bill of goods: they're convinced that they can make a George Carlin special without any human intervention and when the bot fails, they manufacture their own botshit, assuming they must be bad at prompting the AI.

This is an old technology story: I had a friend who was contracted to livestream a Canadian awards show in the earliest days of the web. They booked in multiple ISDN lines from Bell Canada and set up an impressive Mbone encoding station on the wings of the stage. Only one problem: the ISDNs flaked (this was a common problem with ISDNs!). There was no way to livecast the show.

Nevertheless, my friend's boss's ordered him to go on pretending to livestream the show. They made a big deal of it, with all kinds of cool visualizers showing the progress of this futuristic marvel, which the cameras frequently lingered on, accompanied by overheated narration from the show's hosts.

The weirdest part? The next day, my friend – and many others – heard from satisfied viewers who boasted about how amazing it had been to watch this show on their computers, rather than their TVs. Remember: there had been no stream. These people had just assumed that the problem was on their end – that they had failed to correctly install and configure the multiple browser plugins required. Not wanting to admit their technical incompetence, they instead boasted about how great the show had been. It was the Emperor's New Livestream.

Perhaps that's what happened to the Dudesy bros. But there's another possibility: maybe they were captured by their own imaginations. In "Genesis," an essay in the 2007 collection The Creationists, EL Doctorow (no relation) describes how the ancient Babylonians were so poleaxed by the strange wonder of the story they made up about the origin of the universe that they assumed that it must be true. They themselves weren't nearly imaginative enough to have come up with this super-cool tale, so God must have put it in their minds:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/29/gedankenexperimentwahn/#high-on-your-own-supply

That seems to have been what happened to the Air Force colonel who falsely claimed that a "rogue AI-powered drone" had spontaneously evolved the strategy of killing its operator as a way of clearing the obstacle to its main objective, which was killing the enemy:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/04/ayyyyyy-eyeeeee/

This never happened. It was – in the chagrined colonel's words – a "thought experiment." In other words, this guy – who is the USAF's Chief of AI Test and Operations – was so excited about his own made up story that he forgot it wasn't true and told a whole conference-room full of people that it had actually happened.

Maybe that's what happened with the George Carlinbot 3000: the Dudesy dudes fell in love with their own vision for a fully automated luxury Carlinbot and forgot that they had made it up, so they just cheated, assuming they would eventually be able to make a fully operational Battle Carlinbot.

That's basically the Theranos story: a teenaged "entrepreneur" was convinced that she was just about to produce a seemingly impossible, revolutionary diagnostic machine, so she faked its results, abetted by investors, customers and others who wanted to believe:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theranos

The thing about stories of AI miracles is that they are peddled by both AI's boosters and its critics. For boosters, the value of these tall tales is obvious: if normies can be convinced that AI is capable of performing miracles, they'll invest in it. They'll even integrate it into their product offerings and then quietly hire legions of humans to pick up the botshit it leaves behind. These abettors can be relied upon to keep the defects in these products a secret, because they'll assume that they've committed an operator error. After all, everyone knows that AI can do anything, so if it's not performing for them, the problem must exist between the keyboard and the chair.

But this would only take AI so far. It's one thing to hear implausible stories of AI's triumph from the people invested in it – but what about when AI's critics repeat those stories? If your boss thinks an AI can do your job, and AI critics are all running around with their hair on fire, shouting about the coming AI jobpocalypse, then maybe the AI really can do your job?

https://locusmag.com/2020/07/cory-doctorow-full-employment/

There's a name for this kind of criticism: "criti-hype," coined by Lee Vinsel, who points to many reasons for its persistence, including the fact that it constitutes an "academic business-model":

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

That's four reasons for AI hype:

to win investors and customers;

to cover customers' and users' embarrassment when the AI doesn't perform;

AI dreamers so high on their own supply that they can't tell truth from fantasy;

A business-model for doomsayers who form an unholy alliance with AI companies by parroting their silliest hype in warning form.

But there's a fifth motivation for criti-hype: to simplify otherwise tedious and complex situations. As Jamie Zawinski writes, this is the motivation behind the obvious lie that the "autonomous cars" on the streets of San Francisco have no driver:

https://www.jwz.org/blog/2024/01/driverless-cars-always-have-a-driver/

GM's Cruise division was forced to shutter its SF operations after one of its "self-driving" cars dragged an injured pedestrian for 20 feet:

https://www.wired.com/story/cruise-robotaxi-self-driving-permit-revoked-california/

One of the widely discussed revelations in the wake of the incident was that Cruise employed 1.5 skilled technical remote overseers for every one of its "self-driving" cars. In other words, they had replaced a single low-waged cab driver with 1.5 higher-paid remote operators.

As Zawinski writes, SFPD is well aware that there's a human being (or more than one human being) responsible for every one of these cars – someone who is formally at fault when the cars injure people or damage property. Nevertheless, SFPD and SFMTA maintain that these cars can't be cited for moving violations because "no one is driving them."

But figuring out who which person is responsible for a moving violation is "complicated and annoying to deal with," so the fiction persists.

(Zawinski notes that even when these people are held responsible, they're a "moral crumple zone" for the company that decided to enroll whole cities in nonconsensual murderbot experiments.)

Automation hype has always involved hidden humans. The most famous of these was the "mechanical Turk" hoax: a supposed chess-playing robot that was just a puppet operated by a concealed human operator wedged awkwardly into its carapace.

This pattern repeats itself through the ages. Thomas Jefferson "replaced his slaves" with dumbwaiters – but of course, dumbwaiters don't replace slaves, they hide slaves:

https://www.stuartmcmillen.com/blog/behind-the-dumbwaiter/

The modern Mechanical Turk – a division of Amazon that employs low-waged "clickworkers," many of them overseas – modernizes the dumbwaiter by hiding low-waged workforces behind a veneer of automation. The MTurk is an abstract "cloud" of human intelligence (the tasks MTurks perform are called "HITs," which stands for "Human Intelligence Tasks").

This is such a truism that techies in India joke that "AI" stands for "absent Indians." Or, to use Jathan Sadowski's wonderful term: "Potemkin AI":

https://reallifemag.com/potemkin-ai/

This Potemkin AI is everywhere you look. When Tesla unveiled its humanoid robot Optimus, they made a big flashy show of it, promising a $20,000 automaton was just on the horizon. They failed to mention that Optimus was just a person in a robot suit:

https://www.siliconrepublic.com/machines/elon-musk-tesla-robot-optimus-ai

Likewise with the famous demo of a "full self-driving" Tesla, which turned out to be a canned fake:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/tesla-video-promoting-self-driving-was-staged-engineer-testifies-2023-01-17/

The most shocking and terrifying and enraging AI demos keep turning out to be "Just A Guy" (in Molly White's excellent parlance):

https://twitter.com/molly0xFFF/status/1751670561606971895

And yet, we keep falling for it. It's no wonder, really: criti-hype rewards so many different people in so many different ways that it truly offers something for everyone.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

Image:

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

Ross Breadmore (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/rossbreadmore/5169298162/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[thealphapxnguin]

Whisky and Dreams

A John Price x fem!Reader fanfiction, inspired by a prompt by @dante-mightdie

Click here for AO3 version.

Part One

The dim half-light fell on your face as you sat, silent and stone-faced, in the corner of the bar. The glass of wine you had previously been sipping on now sat forgotten in front of you, stagnant and cold, as you stared blankly into space. Around you, laughter and chatter erupted, drunken cries of delight mixing with cheers and off-tune singing as people writhed and enjoyed themselves around you, but you blocked it all out.

You had never been more miserable or lonely in your life.

And your ‘friends’ (or, rather, college acquaintances), the ones who had convinced you to join them in the first place, apparently couldn’t care less. You scoffed quietly. Why should they? For hot, confident twenty-somethings, it wasn’t like they had any shortage of suitors. And it wasn’t their problem if one member of the group hadn’t said one word all night, let alone join in with the mingling.

‘Why don’t you stay with the bags, then?’ The nicest girl — which wasn’t saying much — had told you when you all first arrived, a sympathetic, pitying sort of expression on her pretty face as she noticed your hesitance to join the fun. Even with an undertone that would’ve typically irked you, you didn’t have it in yourself to argue, and you had since resigned yourself to the idea that it was the best you were going to get and that you should be grateful for it.

A sharp, shaky sigh left your lips, as you finally glanced down and checked your phone for what must have been the thousandth time that evening. 12:34. Pretending to be in your own world was a challenging task when self-consciousness and anxiety seeped into your mind with every pair of eyes that fell on you. It had only been a couple minutes since you last checked, and the thought only made you more stressed.

Deep, rowdy cheers erupted from somewhere behind you, and even though you had been trying to stay inconspicuous and keep out of the way of what was going on, they were so loud that you couldn’t help but turn your head to the source of the commotion.

You didn’t know why you bothered. It was just a drinking game — about ten men, sturdily build and wearing various military uniforms were playing a game of beer pong in a booth, and a man with a spiked Mohawk and gleaming eyes had just won. A crowd of women surrounded them, about half of them girls you had came here with, and they were all cheering like maniacs. Military men were always popular, here, you recalled, with the bar being so close to a few known bases. It helped that they were all pretty attractive, in their own ways.

Out of pure curiosity and a need to do something instead of just sitting there miserably, you allowed your gaze to travel over the group. Playing with, and having presently lost to, the Mohawk man was a young-ish Black guy who looked entirely wasted. On a large table behind them sat the rest. However, a man clad in skull balaclava at the head instantly made you uncomfortable, and you quickly averted your eyes to the other end.

Wrong move.

Immediately your gaze locked with the gentleman that sat on the opposite side of the table. His irises were a comforting shade of blue, framed with lashes you would die for, and you registered how he seemed distinctly older and calmer than the rest of them. Whilst the other men were acting like hysterics, the only thing that illustrated his amusement was how one corner of his mouth was twitched up in amusement, thick moustache quirking. He nursed a whisky in one large hand, and the other rested on his knee.

You weren’t even going to try and lie to yourself. He was absolutely too old for you, absolutely out of your league, and absolutely your type.

His head cocked to the side ever so slightly, the movement almost imperceptible. Even so, your unconscious admiration of the man instantly screeched to a halt as it happened, your neck snapping back over your shoulder, as you felt a flush come over your cheeks.

Fuck.

It was just your luck, wasn’t it? The one time you were genuinely interested in a man, and it was at a shitty bar with friends you didn’t even know the names whilst of having the worst time of your life.

“Just my luck…” You repeated sullenly, once again bringing your phone back out and preparing for another two hours of anxious scrolling.

Until a tap on your shoulder made you freeze.

“Fancy a refill, love?”

A heavy figure settled down on the stool beside you, and you didn’t even have to look up to know who it was. Somehow you knew instinctively, like it was already a reflex for your body to recognise this man whose existence you had been aware of for less than five minutes.

A sharp inhale. “I’m… sorry?” You choked. You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. You couldn’t even dare to look up. Maybe he wasn’t even talking to you.

“A refill. More alcohol. A little boost. Don’t mean to be rude, but you don’t look awfully thrilled right now.” His voice was deep, his British accent not overwhelming but pleasing to the ears.

You hesitated. “I’m… I’m okay, thank you.” Your eyes remained fixed on the table in front of you. Fuck…

The heat of his body shifted. He was looking directly at you, now, you could feel it — feel how his eyes roamed your body, zeroed in on your face, analysed you and truly noticed you. It made you shiver slightly. “You sure?”

“…I’m sure…” A lie.

You wanted nothing more in that moment than to be the kind of person who knew how to respond to this kind of interaction, but you weren’t, and it was killing you to turn down the only person in the bar who you wanted to talk to.

Basically… you didn’t know what to do. You quickly concluded after he remained silent for a few moments that he must have been joking — and if he wasn’t, then he’d undoubtedly go to find someone else to chat up after your quick rejection. Wouldn’t that do wonders for your already-pitiful self-confidence?

It seemed you had predicted correctly. Just then, he stood up, and you watched him out of the corner of your eye as he left your side made his way over to the bartender — just as one of your friends sidled up to him, a drunken expression of flirtatious delight on her face.

You couldn’t keep your heart from dropping, and your forehead to slam onto the table in front of you with a defeated groan as he left. It was stupid to get jealous when you had rejected his offer, you knew that, but… your chance. Your one chance.

God, did you hate yourself.

Letting your eyes linger on the man even after his departure didn’t help. Your friend had nuzzled up to his side like she was some sort of cat, gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes and biting her lip, and you could tell that she was showering him with compliments from the way he nodded every few seconds with a polite smile. The only thing that made you feel better was that he didn’t seem to be reciprocating the interaction quite as eagerly as she was, but that very well may have just been your jealous imagination trying to calm yourself down.

A bartender approached him, and a few minutes later, the man was handed with another glass of whisky and a red wine. You fixated on the way your friend eyed the second drink delightedly.

To both of your surprise, however, the man took the two drinks from the counter, stood up…

And completely ignored your friend, who looked a little dismayed but quickly busied herself with another man nearby. He walked right back to sit down next to you again and slid the wine across the counter.

The gesture was clear. For you.

“I know you said you didn’t want it, but just in case,” the man rumbled. He seemed almost amused with your obvious inner panic. This time you met his gaze, eyes wide.

“I…” Was he serious? Were you actually getting a second chance at this? “I… Thank you.” You swallowed, so nervous that your throat felt like sandpaper, and you winced at the feeling.

The man chuckled. “No problem, love. Figured you may have just been shy. If you really want me to leave, I will, but somehow, I get the idea that that isn’t the case.” He gave you a crooked smile before taking a long sip of his whiskey, the warm amber liquid sloshing around in the glass appealingly.

You didn’t know how to reply to that, drenched in fear.

For some reason, at that, his smile widened. “What’s your name?” He asked suddenly, after setting his cup down with a soft clink.

You told him quietly, voice shaking.

“Hmm. I like that. I’m John. John Price.” He held out a calloused hand, and you were immediately aware of how big and sturdy it seemed, “Nice to meet you.”

After a moment of stunned silence, you took it, the warmth and thinly veiled strength that enveloped your palm sending small shivers down your spine — and for the first time that evening, you offered him a small smile of your own. “You too.” Even if this was some sort of sick joke, wasn’t it nice to pretend? And that was the worst-case scenario. Which meant there was a good chance he was being genuine. You didn’t want to raise your hopes all too high, though.

“Thanks again,” you said awkwardly, nodding to the glass in front of you and taking a small sip appreciatively. The wine slid down your throat, the alcohol boost immediately putting a happy fuzz in your mind.

“As I said, no problem at all.” John nursed his whisky, and your eyes flicked to how the muscles in his arm strained with the movement. “Having fun?”

You couldn’t help but scoff softly. “Does it look it it?”

John’s blue eyes twinkled. “Good point. What is it that’s got you so down, then? If it’s some bastard, I wouldn’t mind dealing with him for you outside.”

A small laugh of disbelief left your lips. “Oh. Good to know. But… no. It isn’t some bastard, though for some reason I kind of wish it were, because then at least I’d have something to blame.” You paused. “I don’t even really know what the problem is myself, to be honest. Just this place in general. I would’ve gone home a while ago, but my friends want to stay a bit longer and I think I’m the DD.” You stared at your wine. “That ship may have already sailed, though.” Great. Now, instead of being unable to form words, you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. The magic of alcohol was a true wonder.

You were relived to find that John didn’t seem perturbed by the sudden spluttered paragraph. In fact, he seemed quite pleased, by the way the corners of those gorgeous eyes wrinkled kindly as he listened. “Don’t seem like very good friends, if they leave you alone like that and don’t even bother check on you.”

“They’re not even my friends. They’re just— I don’t know, acquaintances.” You paused, frowning, as a flush gradually spread across your cheeks as more alcohol flooded your system. “I don’t know a lot of things, apparently.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” John commented, raspy voice ever so slightly softer than it had been before.

“Agree to disagree,” you sighed.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence — and the realisation surprised you, because a few minutes ago the thought would have seemed crazy.

You began to speculate about him as the silence lengthened, both of you sipping your drinks quietly as chaos continued to rage around. How old was he? What did he do for a living? What was his relationship with the other men?

Why did he approach you?

“You work in the military, right?” You suddenly blurted out, unable to keep the endless swarm of questions contained in your fuzzy brain.

He nodded with yet another smile, before gesturing to the men behind you. “Correct. Captain John Price, at your service. I’m in charge of most of of these lot. The rest are strays, but I brought them along because it’s been quite a tough time for them all and they deserved a bit of a break.”

You blinked. “That’s… nice of you.”

The captain huffed a laugh. “Well, as I said, they can all be pricks, but they’re the most hardworking and loyal pricks I know. Here, let me show you. That one there…” He pointed directly at the man with the Mohawk who had first caught your attention, who was now lounging with an arm over the man who had lost’s shoulder and watching another match of beer pong. “Scotsman we call Soap. Troublemaker and demolitions expert.” John’s finger moved to the man who had lost. “Gaz. Ex-SAS. Skilled like hell, but has a hell of a temper.” Finally, his finger settled on the man with the skull balaclava who had instantly made you uncomfortable. You shivered just setting eyes on him again. “And that’s Ghost. All I’ll say is, not a man you want to mess with.” He didn’t need to tell you twice.

Maybe if you hadn’t been as drunk as you were, you would’ve been a little freaked out, but at present, you didn’t really care. You had to take a second to absorb the new information in, before musing, “I have to say, those are some odd names.”

“I don’t think they’d appreciate me giving out their real names to a stranger, pretty as she may be.”

Any form of response died in your throat, as a burst of heat spread through your body and raised goosebumps along your arms at his words. God, he was so attractive, and so sweet, and so attentive, and he smelled so good — like smoke and pinewood — that you just wanted to wrap yourself around him and bury your head in his chest and—

“You alright there, sweetheart?”

“I— huh?” You inhaled sharply as John brought you out of your momentary compliment-induced stupor. ‘Oh, yeah. Fine. Just fine. Amazing, actually.”

“That so?”

 You nodded earnestly, preparing to explain just how amazing you really were, when the movement caused you to lose you balance, and you swayed dangerously on your stool.

You squeaked, just as a large, warm palm spread across your shoulder and kept you in place. “You… are drunk,” John said carefully, his hand remaining on your shoulder for a second too long before he removed it. Not that you were complaining.

“Pretty drunk, yeah,” you agreed weakly, heart faltering at the mini heart attack you had just given yourself. You were definitely a lightweight.

“I’d say even more so than that, love. You sure you don’t want to start heading home?”

“But… my friends. I’m the DD…”

Price scoffed affectionately. “Don’t mean to assume, but you don’t seem too close with your friends, and you’re going to get pulled over the second you try to drive like this. Look, you want me to give you a ride home or something?”

“I…” You hesitated. It probably wasn’t a good idea to give a stranger your address — especially a military captain who couldn’t even tell you the names of his comrades — but you were just about out of money for the night and he was so attractive. “Would you?”

“‘Course. Promise not to murder you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he added, with a small quirk of his lips.

“…Reassuring.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Good to hear. Well, if you’re ready to go now… then c’mon, love, let’s get you home.”

Word Count: 2671

Stay tuned for the part two, and I’d love to hear your thoughts!

[itsnesss]

𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 | minho (xo,kitty) × fem!reader

OO1. OO2. OO3.

summary | you struggle with your feelings for minho, knowing he's in a relationship with stella. after an intense conversation about your kiss, you decide to distance yourself, despite the undeniable connection between you two

warnings | emotional distress, relationship complications, heartbreak, mentions of kissing

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The way back to the cabin felt endless. You wrapped the towel around your body so tightly that your fingers hurt, trying to keep your breathing steady. Min Ho's kiss still burned on your lips, like an impossible-to-ignore burn.

When you entered the room where you were sleeping with Yuri and Juliana, they were both fast asleep. You climbed under the blankets, but sleep didn’t come. Only the memory of Min Ho, his intense gaze, his voice whispering words that should never have been said.

"What about what I feel? Or what you feel?"

You squeezed your eyes shut. None of that mattered. It couldn’t matter.

...

The first rays of light filtered through the windows when you finally decided to get up. You went downstairs to the kitchen and found your friends already gathered. Yuri and Juliana were serving themselves coffee, Q and Dae were discussing a board game, and Stella was hugging Min Ho, resting her head on his shoulder as she looked at her phone.

Your stomach twisted.

"Look who decided to show up!" Yuri exclaimed with a smile. "We almost let you sleep, but Min Ho insisted we wake you up."

Your eyes quickly went to him, and you found him staring at you intently. He didn’t say anything, but there was something unsettling in his expression.

"Thanks for the gesture," you responded, pretending indifference as you grabbed a cup of coffee.

You tried to stay occupied during breakfast, participating in the conversation as little as possible. However, every time you looked up, you found Min Ho watching you, even when Stella was talking to him.

And then, Stella spoke.

"Since the snowstorm has passed, we could take a walk to the lake," she suggested excitedly. "It’s not too cold, and the view must be incredible with all the snow piled up."

"Sounds like a great idea," Q said, stretching.

"Hope you all have good shoes," Dae joked. "I don’t want to be the one carrying anyone if they slip."

"You say that as if you won’t be the first one to fall," Juliana retorted with a smile.

Amidst laughter, the group prepared to leave.

You tried to convince yourself that it was just a walk. There was nothing wrong with that.

Except Min Ho was there. Except every time Stella held his hand, your chest tightened.

The path was beautiful, surrounded by snow-covered trees. The cold air helped clear your mind a little, but not enough.

Min Ho walked ahead, alongside Stella. She was animatedly talking about something on her phone, while he simply nodded, not too interested.

"He’s looking at you again," Yuri whispered beside you.

"What?"

"Min Ho. He hasn’t stopped looking at you since we left the cabin."

You quickly shook your head. "That’s your imagination."

"Uh-huh." Yuri gave you a look of *don’t lie to me*. "Something happened last night in the hot tub, right?"

You almost choked on the air. "No! Why would you say that?"

"Because I know you. And because he looks at you like you’ve killed his dog and at the same time like he wants to kiss you again."

"Yuri," you warned, feeling your cheeks burn.

"I won’t say anything," she promised with a mischievous grin. "But you have to tell me later."

Before you could respond, Min Ho stopped and announced:

"I’m going to look for more firewood for the bonfire tonight."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Stella asked.

"No, stay here. It won’t take long."

Your heart stopped for a second.

"I’ll... take a walk," you said to Yuri and Juliana, quickly walking away before anyone could ask questions.

You followed the path Min Ho had taken, the sound of snow crunching under your boots. You found him a few minutes later, picking up some fallen branches.

When he saw you, he dropped the firewood and crossed his arms.

"I knew you’d come."

You rolled your eyes. "Don’t think you’re that important."

Min Ho let out a low laugh, but his gaze was serious.

"Are you going to keep pretending nothing happened?"

You took a breath. "I don’t want to talk about it."

"Well, I do."

His tone was different. It wasn’t the usual arrogance, nor his playful tone. It was deeper. More real.

"You kissed me last night," he said firmly.

You clenched your jaw. "It was a mistake."

"It wasn’t."

"Yes, it was," you insisted, your chest burning.

Min Ho took a step toward you. "Tell me you didn’t feel anything."

"Min Ho…"

"Say it."

You clenched your fists. You couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him that because it would be a lie.

"You have a girlfriend," you reminded him.

"I know."

"Then this is over."

He took a deep breath. "I’m going to break up with Stella."

Your eyes widened with surprise and fear.

"You can’t do that."

"Why not?"

"Because she doesn’t deserve that," you said, your voice trembling. "I don’t want to be the reason for that."

Min Ho ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "You’re not."

"Of course I am," you insisted. "If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be thinking about this."

Min Ho shook his head. "No. This was happening before. Stella is amazing, but she’s not…"

He stopped, but you understood what he didn’t say.

"She’s not you."

Your chest ached.

"Min Ho, don’t do this. Don’t complicate things more than they already are."

"And what do you want me to do? Stay with her just because it’s the right thing?"

"Yes," you said, even though every part of you screamed no.

He stood in silence, watching you.

"Leave me alone, Min Ho."

The words came out before you could stop them.

Min Ho blinked, as if you had slapped him.

"Is that what you want?"

You nodded, your heart breaking in your chest.

He pressed his lips together, then nodded stiffly.

"I understand," he murmured.

He picked up the firewood and started walking back to the cabin without looking back.

You stood there, with the snow gently falling around you, feeling like you had just lost something you would never have again.

tags | @msromanreigns2023 @imagineme2you @yuwaimo @cassiewritessalot @lavnderluv

[kyeomkuppie]

Rooftop.

Pairing: Wonwoo x gn!reader

Genre: I honestly don't know but let's just say crack and a pinch of angst

Warnings: Wonwoo thinks reader is about to commit suicide

Synopsis: You were just trying to get a better look at the sky, but someone misunderstood and tried to save you.

You valued your peace of mind and the best way (in your opinion) to clear your mind was to look at the stars. At the edge of a rooftop.

Yeah, not the smartest idea but who cares!

Technically, anyone was bound to see a random person standing at a rooftop, misunderstand the situation, then call for help. Something you didn't exactly take into account.

And bingo as you had guessed, not only did someone see you, someone was at the same rooftop thinking you were about to jump, and you being at the edge didn't exactly help either.

Out of nowhere, you felt yourself being pulled backwards. Your back was now against the chest of a random stranger, and to make matters worse, on top of him.

"Uh, excuse me?" You were baffled and you didn't really know how to explain without him thinking you were lying "Can you let me go, please?"

No answer.

Oh shit. Is he dead? I don't think I'm that heavy though. You were thinking of the endless possibilities of you being charged for involuntary manslaughter. Great.

You finally feel the person who you thought you murdered move. "Are you okay? Why did you pull me like that? You could've been hurt!" You turned around only to be left awestruck. At least he was handsome.

His eyebrows were furrowed and his breathing was heavy, yeah it isn't the time for flirting. "How could you treat your life like it's something to be toyed with! You can't simply choose to end it because things are getting rough." His tone was stern and angry— but wait.

What? Your mind short-circuited for second. He thought you were doing what!

"What about your loved ones and the people who would blame themselves for your death? At least think about all those variables before treating your life like-"

"Excuse me?! I was just standing like a normal person, looking at the damn sky. I wasn't toying with my life, I was enjoying it!" You were starting to get riled up as well, couldn't he at least wait to hear what you had to say about yourself— and wait, what does he even have to do with it?!

"You shouldn't lie about things like this! If you need help, say it."

There's was no convincing this man. "Listen here stranger, if I needed help I would in fact ask for it. But can't a person watch the fucking sky in peace." You huffed "Why are you even making a big deal out of it? It's not like we know each other."

You pushed his hands which were gripping you away. "At least try to understand, I mean it's not the smartest thing to do, to stand at the edge of a rooftop I mean, but I assure I wasn't trying to do anything you were thinking of."

You had an idea! Not the smartest either but good enough "Want to grab a meal?" If he didn't say yes, you'd bury yourself alive, but you wouldn't have to see him again. If he said yes, you'd resolve that misunderstanding and you could go your separate ways.

He suddenly realized that his body was so tense and his body was still on the ground.

You gulped as he proceeded to get up. His features became more clear. His face had a soft expression but his eyes were sharp, so was his jaw. Yeah, you were right, he was one handsome fellow.

He was weirded out by your spontaneous personality. One moment you were all angry, and the next you were asking him to grab dinner? Yeah, not normal.

"Fine. I'll pretend that I believe you, and we'll go grab dinner. But for the love of god go stargaze anywhere but at the edge. I had the ambulance ready." He scratched his neck.

"Okay Mr. Overdramatic." You laughed, it was a peculiar day, not the peaceful kind you usually preferred, but definitely a day to remember.

"Wonwoo."

"Hm?" You tilted your head in confusion.

"If we're going out for a meal, you might as well know my name." He shrugged.

Yeah, he had split personalities, you were sure of it.

"[name]." You extended your hand "It was nice meeting you here— wait what were you doing up here?!" Your eyes widenened.

"I was stargazing."

"Yeah, no shit. I'll pretend that I believe you." You mimicked him from earlier.

Inspired by that one scene in true beauty.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[enigmaticxbee]

Tropes & More - Fic Recs

All the tropey-goodness!

Body-Swap:

Underneath Your Skin by crescentmoon222 - Dreamland AU, NSFW

What if Feels Like for a Girl by @mldrgrl - Dreamland AU, NSFW

Dreamland III by @admiralty-xfd - Dreamland sequel

Flea Market Economy by Punk

I’ll Show You Mine If You Show Me Yours by Tv_Saved_The_Teenage_Girl

Masters of Time by @sisterspooky1013 - time travel to 1960s Masters of Sex, NSFW

Times Colliding by onlytheinevitable- time travel 1998/2018 body swap, NSFW, WIP

Cubed by Louise Marin - Scully wakes up as an alternate version of herself, NSFW.

Parallel by @sisterspooky1013 - Scully wakes up as an alternate version of herself, NSFW.

Fake-Dating:

Never by Allison Kinney - Undercover, NSFW

Diversion by @sisterspooky1013 - Stakeout, NSFW

Just Another Dinner Party by @somekindofseizure - Undercover at a swingers party during Arcadia

Amish Country by Lolabeegood - Undercover with the Amish, NSFW

We’re Married Now by @skinfull - Undercover in a cult, NSFW

Hallowed by onlytheinevitable - Undercover in a cult, NSFW

More Than a Feeling by @sisterspooky1013 - Undercover at a carnival, NSFW

Undercover Swing by 2momsmakearight - Undercover at a sex party, NSFW

It’s Just Pretend by @storybycorey - Undercover in a motel, fake sex turning into real sex, NSFW

The Marriage Spectacular by @cecilysass - Lost FBI agents. Stormy weather. A marriage retreat in a mountainside inn with one room available.

The Newlywed Game by onlytheinevitable - While going out for dinner, Scully runs into an ex and Mulder valliantly pretends to be her husband. However, that little lie traps them into having to play the Newlywed Game in front of a bunch of strangers and they have to navigate admitting feelings they haven't even admitted to themselves.

Baseball Metaphors by @leiascully - Scully runs into an ex and they pretend to be dating, NSFW

Just Go With It by @skinfull - Mulder runs into old high school classmates and they pretend to be married, NSFW

The Annapolis Grant by @slippinmickeys - AU, Scully pays Mulder to play the role of her boyfriend, NSFW

Wedding/FBI Ball Date:

Plus One by @alienqueequeg - Mulder convinces Scully to let him be her plus one at an old friend's wedding, NSFW

Hardball by Missy Pennington - Scully gets a sexy red dress to wear to the FBI ball when she finds out Phoebe Green will be attending

Five Ballrooms by @admiralty-xfd - Five Christmas parties. Five separate POVs.

The Twelve Tropes of Christmas by @mangokiwitropicalswirl - Christmas ball and all the tropes

Holidays:

far away and to the west by @audries - Thanksgiving with the Gunmen

at the close of the day by @audries - Thanksgiving on the road

Fairies, Skip Hence by @slippinmickeys - Christmas at the Scullys, NSFW

Shades of Winter by @piecesofscully - Christmas at the Scullys, NSFW

Marshmallow World by @agoodwoman - Christmas 1998, set Season 6, our beloved agents are working under AD Kersh. Mulder and Scully get into the holiday spirit. NSFW

Regular People by @chimerical1975 - Thwarted Christmas plans, impulsive decisions, and unexpected visitors make two extraordinary FBI agents into regular people. NSFW

Chicken Dinner by @cecilysass - Dinner at Mrs. Scully’s. Mulder overhears Maggie speaking to her friends about her daughter’s relationship with her partner. What he hears floors him.

Gingersnap by @cecilysass - Holiday baking, NSFW

if the fates allow by @all-these-ghosts - Christmas with Mulder and Scully, 1993-2016

Birthdays by @syntax6 - seasons 1 through 7

One Bed (see Faking Dating above too):

Let’s Play a Game by @danasculllie - Motel room Truth or Dare, NSFW

Truth or Dare by Adrienne - Mulder and Scully have a wicked game of Truth or Dare while sharing that hotel room in Rain King. NSFW

Twenty-Questions and a Winter Storm by @danascully77 - NSFW

Designated Mulder by onlytheinevitable - Mulder had always wanted to see what Scully would be like drunk, but he didn't anticipate it would finally happen on the one night they had to share a bed. NSFW

Sexy Snowed-In by @peacenik0 - Mulder and Scully are snowed-in together, will they find a way to escape their boredom? NSFW

Hot and Sticky by Megan Reilly - One hotel room, two FBI Agents...and it's a hell of a hot night besides. NSFW

One room. One bed. by spooky66 - NSFW

Free Merlot at the Cool View Motor Court by @sarie-fairy - post The Rain King, NSFW

Turn that damned thing off by @sunflowerseedsandscience - The Rain King missing scene.

Time Enough At Last by bayloriffic - The Rain King missing scene.

Conversation in the Dark by Cass - The Rain King missing scene.

Stop Me by Gina Rain - post The Rain King, NSFW

Unbidden by @phillippadgettwrites - NSFW

Bunkmates by @leiascully - There's only one hotel room, and it's got a special surprise.

Expense Report by 13th_blackbird - The Bureau conducts an audit, and Scully considers the costs.

Scully/Other:

Universal Invariants by @syntax6 - set over the course of a canon-parallel version of season 1 and early season 2 where Scully’s boyfriend Ethan who was cut from the pilot sticks around. NSFW

Early On by @sunflowerseedsandscience - Mulder and Scully are drawn to each other from the start but Scully is still with Ethan. NSFW

Homicidal Tendencies by Swikstr - Casefile crossover that pairs Scully with the detective from Homicide: Life on the Street. NSFW

You He Did Not Fail by extraordinarily_ordinary - After Scully leaves the X-Files for a position in LA a case brings them back together. Starts Scully/Other but ultimately MSR. NSFW

Original Sin by @syntax6 - post FTF Scully moves to Utah. Scully/Other but great MSR. NSFW

Arizona Highways by Fialka - Visions of Melissa lead Our Heroes on a case confirming the existence of a series of Emilys. But does Melissa really have a message, or is it all in Scully’s head? Scully/Other but ultimately MSR. NSFW

No Regrets by MystPhile - During Arcadia Scully reconnects with Detective John Kresge. Ultimately MSR but not until the very end. NSFW

Promises to Keep by Prufrock’s Love - post Requiem Scully/Skinner, I really struggled with this one, but still an interesting read. NSFW

Heart’s Desire by @malibusunset - post Two Fathers/One Son Scully reconnects with an old boyfriend during a case. My favorite Scully/Other fic - ends in MSR, but it’s probably the only fic where I’ve thought that Mulder might be the wrong choice. NSFW

La Lacuna by @aloysiavirgata - Scully explores her feelings after Milagro while investigating a murder. Scully/Other but ultimately MSR. NSFW

Mulder/Other:

The Waters of Babylon by @aloysiavirgata - As they prepare to become Rob and Laura Petrie, Mulder thinks back on his life and the paths not taken.

Seventeen by @scapegrace74-blog - Explores how Mulder's sexual relationships shaped (and mis-shaped) him as a man. Each chapter represents a different partner. Mulder/Other, ultimately MSR, NSFW

Triptych by @iconicscullyoutfits - married to Diana AU, ultimately MSR

To Love Somebody by Tess and Jacquie LaVa - In the midst of attempting to have a normal romance, Mulder's escalating feelings for Scully, and her deteriorating health due to her advancing cancer, make it impossible for him to commit... Mulder/Other but ultimately MSR. NSFW

The Guts by @wtfmulder - How would Scully react if Mulder dropped an open condom wrapper in front of her? MSR but dealing with Diana.

Dr. Scully's School for Exceptional Boys by Prufrock’s Love - post series, Mulder/Other and MSR, NSFW

One for the Road by @phillippadgettwrites - post breakup, Mulder has a girlfriend but mostly MSR, NSFW

Pregnancy/Baby/Family:

The Family G-Man by Neoxphile and FelineFemme - A double tragedy strikes Mulder the week before Christmas of 2003. What if he could go back and change things, save the son one lost and give the other the family she wanted? Could it keep them safe? NSFW

Five Years and a Lifetime by @monikafilefan @slippinmickeys - One night stand AU. Five years later, Scully and Mulder work at the same pediatric hospital, and Scully's four year old daughter bears a striking resemblance to the picture of a dark haired girl that sits on Mulder's desk... NSFW

In the Best Interest of the Child by @mldrgrl - AU When tragedy strikes, Mulder is forced to take guardianship of his young niece, but the matter is complicated by the arrival of a sister-in-law he's never met.

The Way Things Are by Sukie Tawdry - One night and their whole lives were changed forever. Season 1 AU. NSFW

Right Hand Return by humphreywrites - Scully is returned from her abduction with a baby, no memories of anything prior to her captivity and some PTSD.

All That Is Dark and Bright by @malibusunset - Emily lives AU. NSFW

Five Years and One Night by Shalimar - Scully leaves the X-Files post-Emily but gets drawn back in when Mulder discovers Emily wasn’t the only child created. NSFW

Intimacy Deux by Mojo - The one in five billion happens. NSFW

40 Weeks by @malibusunset - What if the IVF attempt in Per Manum had been successful? NSFW

A Boy and His Fox by 6hoursgirl - What happens when two FBI agents have a platonic relationship based on trust and mutual respect...and an exchange of genetic material. NSFW

The 13th Sign and 7 Days in May by Prufrock’s Love - Post-Deadalive. Mulder saw no reason for life, death, sex, Armageddon, or emotional dysfunction to stand in the way of true love.

Hurricane Season by rah and beduini - Post-Existence week at the beach with the Scully family and baby Wim. NSFW

Terra Firma series by @malibusunset - Post-Existence domestic family drama, a classic comfort read for me. NSFW

Misc:

Partners With Benefits by onlytheinevitable - Friends with benefits, NSFW

Truncated by Lysandra31 - Scully and Mulder find themselves in a tight spot. Spooning ensues.

You Send Me by @spooky-nerd - Portals keep popping up around Mulder. It's rather inconvenient until he realizes it's possible the universe is trying to tell him something.

[youremyheaven]

Moon Dominance & Manipulation pt 2

TW: murder, rape, genocide, violence, assault, death etc etc

Here's part 1

In part 1, I spoke about the manipulative nature of Moon dominant people, in this post I will be exploring it further and providing more examples.

I think its interesting that the Moon dominant nakshatras, namely, Rohini, Hasta & Shravana are Manushya gana (Rohini) and Deva gana (Hasta & Shravana). It is very telling because even though these natives say and do terrible things, they enjoy squeaky-clean reputations and people usually perceive them as angels. If they were Rakshasa gana people would see through their bs more quickly.

Ariana Grande- Hasta Moon conjunct Jupiter

Ariana has said and done numerous problematic things over the years, from cheating scandals, blackfishing, donutgate, being extremely rude and arrogant, changing races every few years, to cringe ass over-sexualised lyrics, to being a homewrecker, Ariana is super duper messy YET she enjoys public and media support and is seen as America's sweetheart. Other people have lost their careers for less but Ari gets away with absolutely everything. She publicly admitted that Pete was her rebound guy (she was engaged to him) which is such a shitty thing to do to someone?? Like imagine if the genders were reversed lol

Ariana is a solid example of always seeming like the innocent person even though she's the messy one. Even with her latest album, its pretty obvious who cheated on who but she's been subtle enough with her music to make it seem like her ex cheated on her (she made him sign an NDA upon divorce which in itself is SOOO sketchy like what is she afraid of him revealing????) to imply things like that when you've put the other person in a position where they literally cannot speak for themselves is peak Moon dominant manipulation. She then posted a half assed story on IG asking fans to stop attacking "people in her life",,, its so apparent that she incited the whole thing in a super calculated manner and once she got what she wanted, she tries to pretend to be the good guy whose fans did all the terrible stuff🙄

Selena Gomez, Pushya Stellium, Mercury in Ashlesha atmakaraka (they both lie in Cancer which is Moon ruled)

I wouldn't have included rashi rulership but Selena is an exception. She's the queen of playing the victim and is second only to Meghan Markle. Selena sets her fans on different hate trains every other week. She's very wary of showing support to social causes. She worked with Woody Allen. She treated her best friend & kidney donor like shit, was a terrible gf to Justin Bieber, treated Demi like shit during a really tough period of Demi's life, can't sing at all yet, produced a whole TV show (13RW) that is extremely triggering for people with mental health issues and was advised by MANY to change things but she just didn't??? honestly, if you watch her documentary you can see how she's the most self-absorbed narcissistic person, every single thing has to be about her all the time.

Despite all this, Selena is almost universally loved.

Amy Dunne from Gone Girl is THE best example of a Moon-dominant person and the extent to which they'll go to ruin your life. Amy Dunne was played by Rosamund Pike who has Shravana Sun conjunct Mars

Amy had such a squeaky clean image that it was impossible to convince anybody that she was the sociopath who tried to fake her own death.

Leonardo DiCaprio- Hasta Moon

Leo is a creepy middle aged man who only dates women under 25, lives for the yacht life and spends his free time partying and doing drugs, all of which is fine but these are things that other Hollywood men come under fire for ALL the time, yet Leo is pretty much everyone's favourite, he's the environmentalist humanitarian even tho he's private jetting to his private island to party with models, even tho he's received flak in the last couple of years for dating women much younger than him, its still more of a running gag than anything serious. He hasn't suffered because of it in any way. His reputation is still intact.

John Lennon- Hasta Sun, Shravana Moon

John was a wife beating, child beating, abusive to multiple women, made fun of people with disabilities, pretended to be an anti establishment hippie even though he accepted an MBE from the Queen of England (he returned it years later in protest) and yet he is remembered as a counterculture icon and one of the most talented musicians ever. He was a violent abusive man who preached peace. Although he was a philanderer himself, he was obsessively jealous and possessive towards the women he became involved with. Lennon was an extremely wealthy man who lived a rich lifestyle, but he said that we should "imagine" a world with no possessions or greed. In short, he was a hypocrite. Yet he is still remembered fondly unlike sooo many other figures in history.

Amal Clooney, Shravana Sun conjunct Venus

speaking of hypocrisy, here's Mrs Clooney, the human rights lawyer who wears $34,000 worth of clothes while championing the poor. She attends gala and balls wearing clothes worth thousands of dollars to "raise money for charity" whilst being married to a man who has a net worth of $500 million. Like I'm sure he could just write a cheque?? The Clooneys throw a lot of charity balls/dinners/parties etc as well and its so funny to me because its obvious they're doing it to keep a certain image before the media, whilst also getting all glammed up and having fun, without doing anything tangible to actually help anybody. imagine your job is to represent refugees, unfairly imprisoned heads of state and advise the UN and you also split time between 5 different mansions all over USA and Europe in private jets lol yet Amal enjoys a good reputation for being a girlboss

Gwyneth Paltrow- Rohini Moon

Lady Goop is a nepo baby and has a net worth of $200 million yet she feels the need to make money off of people by selling bullshit wellness products like $55 sex oils, $400 meditation mats, mouth tape, vibrators, theraguns, vitamins, health supplements and god knows what else?? She's one of the many westerners who sell commercial spiritual nonsense to the masses but coming from someone as rich as she is?? like maa'm?? she promotes so much alternate medicine bullshit on her podcast as well, there is obviously real actually helpful alternate herbal treatments/medicine etc etc BUT that's not her focus she talks about getting rectal ozone therapy (not kidding) and shoving garlic in her ears to clear her chakras and spreads misinformation. there are plenty of people in america who can't access health care, imagine how you're endangering them by suggesting that rose quartz and mouth tapes and candles will cure you. She promotes a eating disordered diet as a "healthy one". all in all, she's sketchy but people just make fun of her and don't see her as someone manipulating innocent people into buying super expensive "alternate medicine" from Goop.

Helena Blavatsky- Hasta Moon & Venus

Helena is the co-founder of the Theosophical Society and was an international leader figure in the Theosophical community. She basically helped promote eastern spirituality and philosophy in the West except that she's lied about pretty much her whole life, so its hard to confirm literally anything about her. She died in 1891 so at the time when she was alive there was no way for others to prove whether or not she was lying, they just had to take her word for it. She lied about training with sages in Tibet and lied about her mystical experiences, plagiarised ancient eastern texts to write about her "spiritual discoveries" etc There's plenty of proof that she was nothing but a charlatan yet I find it interesting how she still has a devoted following and even in her lifetime enjoyed a good reputation as a mystic medium lmao

Ranbir Kapoor, Hasta Sun & Mercury, Shravana Moon & Rohini Rising

Ranbir gets a lot of hate as of late but for the most part he has enjoyed a really good reputation despite being a shitty person.

Jeane Dixon- Rohini rising

She was a psychic and astrologer who predicted the JFK assassination.

John Allen Paulos, a mathematician at Temple University, explored the tendency of Dixon and her fans to promote her few correct predictions while ignoring the larger number of incorrect predictions, naming this habit "the Jeane Dixon effect."

Many of Dixon's predictions proved erroneous, such as her claims that a dispute over the islands of Quemoy and Matsu would trigger the start of World War III in 1958, that American labor leader Walter Reuther would run for president of the United States in the 1964 presidential election, that the second child of Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau and his young wife Margaret would be a girl (it was a boy), and that the Soviets would be the first to put men on the Moon. (excerpt from her wiki)

basically she had no real powers but managed to convince others she did, her clients included Ronald and Nancy Reagan lol

Jordan Peterson, Hasta Moon , Rohini Mercury & Shravana Ketu

He is a good example of the worst type of Moon dominant man. He has said among other things:

That class conflict is a natural and eternal struggle for existence that no political or economic revolution could ameliorate. The individual must develop an aggressive, alpha-male attitude in order to climb the social ladder. Peterson is kind of obsessed with power (all Moon dominants are lol) acc to him only a strong will, exercising itself against a contingent and meaningless world — and against the weak — can one ever hope to flourish.

Jordan Peterson endorses the idea that some men are purposely denied sex by women and that conventionally attractive men are 'taking all the sex' from other 'deserving' men. As a result, he suggests that by assigning women to men and pressuring them to 'settle' and have sex with isolated men, they wouldn't be so "angry at God" and commit acts of mass violence and murder. This, as well as criticizing birth control and saying that women would be happier if they just "allow themselves to be transformed by nature into mothers," is dangerous rhetoric that reinforces patriarchal violence against women.

He's a manipulative asshole who propagates his sexist harmful chauvinistic views as pseudoscience or psychology ew

Freud- Rohini Moon, Hasta Mars

i couldn't make a post about Moon dominance and manipulation without mentioning the godfather of promoting his fucked up worldviews as science, Mr Sigmund Freud aka the most successful Moon manipulator who has caused permanent lasting damage to society

Sigmund believed that homosexuality in men is neurotic but not particularly problematic. Lesbianism, however, he considered a gateway to mental illness.

This (according to Sigmund) is because only men have moral sense. We all evolve from apes, so no human is born with it. But boys acquire morality through the castration complex—the fear that their fathers will emasculate them for their misbehavior.

Having nothing obvious to neuter, girls and women are essentially amoral, lying and conniving to get what they want. Girls must be guided through civilized life by a father, and a woman by a husband. And because they choose not to marry, lesbians remain loose cannons, fundamentally untrustworthy and unstable.

His daughter Anna was his closest intellectual and emotional companion. Yet she was a lesbian.

Freud taught that lesbianism is always the fault of the father and is curable by psychoanalysis.

Freud cautioned followers that analysis is an erotic relationship. Analyst and patient together must scrutinize the amorous feelings that flow between them. This being the case, by rules he asked his followers to honor, Freud could not attempt to cure his own daughter’s lesbianism.

 he also overgeneralized a lot of his “findings” such as the oedipus complex to apply to all people, which was harmful in the early stages of the formation of psychology. today most of his theories are disproven and widely considered problematic. Freud was obsessed with sex and made everything about sex (Moon men are sex addicts and every Moon man I've mentioned so far has a weird relationship with women)

he is credited with being the first psychologist to actually listen to women's problems but when he did listen to them, and many of them told them of their SA experiences, he changed the narrative to "women want to screw their daddies so they have these dreams/fantasies of sexual encounters in childhood" (the Electra/Oedipus Complex) to sell his books. He LIED basically, he manipulated the truth into something disgusting.

Freud is credited with making psychology a legitimate field and for it gaining attention worldwide but he literally manipulated, lie, overgeneralised and in general spewed a lot of toxic nonsense in order to get attention, like Gwyneth with Goop or Helena with Theosophy.

Sobhita Dhulipala- Rohini stellium

Sobhita like most others bought a brand new face for herself yet masquerades under the "im not like other girls, i read" nonsense, she talks about acting, art and self love like she's some committed thespian when girlie cannot act to save her life. she says she does not work out just cleans her house and does chores to stay fit :) bc she's not like other shallow actresses, she does her own chores :) compared to most other people on this list she's harmless but I find her super pick me and pretentious

Moon dominant people are very good at picking up on lies, and understanding human behaviour because they're liars themselves lol, it takes one to know one.

Azealia Banks- Rohini Sun

she's truly unhinged af and a very vile person but some of the people she's called out are also terrible people and tbh her insults are so poetic lmfao

dont get me wrong i think she's a terrible person but there is some truth to some of the things she says which is what i meant by how Moon dominant people understand human behaviour. also Moon dominant people are HATERS dont expect them to say anything nice about anyone lol

I had a friend who would deliberately compliment every other girl we were friends with (Rita is sooo pretty, Lily is so stunning etc etc) but would never say ANYTHING nice about me EVER and when others complimented me she'd act like she didn't hear it or something lmao (it was wild) and one day I straight up asked how come you never say anything nice to me and she said "oh I didn't know you needed compliments from me, I thought you got enough validation from others, I didn't know you were desperate for more" 😭😭😭😭LIKE GIRL WHATTT, honestly making these posts and exposing the dark nasty side of Moon dominant people is helping me heal from all the toxic abuse I endured at the hands of this shitty girl and some others ughhhh that's the reason why these posts have more personal anecdotes than any other post i've made lol

Oprah Winfrey, Shravana Sun & Venus

Her show was pure exploitation of peoples problems and also gave a platform to the equally exploitative Dr. Oz, the king of fake science, and Dr, Phil, the king of fake psychology.

It's a well known fact that she's friends with Harvey Weinstein & Jeffery Epstein despite being a "supporter" of the Me Too movement. Not to mention, she gave a platform to the phony Michael Jackson accusers from Leaving Neverland (do the research, they're liars) while turning a blind eye to the actual sexual predators of Hollywood, like Weinstein.

Her style of journalism seems to favour the shock value of a breaking news scandal rather than actually seeking the truth.

Several celebrities have come forward to talk about how poorly they were treated on the show. Oprah loves to relish in the misery of other ppl and ALWAYS makes others deeply uncomfortable with the straightup rude and hurtful questions she asks them.

Ellen DeGeneres, Shravana Sun & Venus

the fact that two of the most sociopathic TV hosts to ever grace television has identical placements is so telling. Ellen has been exposed in the last couple of years for being a terrible person to work with and treating her guests like shit. What I find even more interesting is the fact that the person who sort of initially exposed Ellen for being a manipulative liar is Dakota Johnson who has Hasta Sun & Mars, when I tell you that Moon dominant people deeply understand human behaviour and the psychology behind people acting the way they do, this is what I mean, it takes a Moon dominant to understand the manipulation of another one.

Kristen Bell, Hasta Moon

she probably has one of the most toxic marriages ever and yet speaks of it so glowingly and always talks about "how much work" it is to stay married like girl💀💀maybe exit the marriage then?? she has such a sweetheart image but she has admitted that she gives her children non-alcoholic beer, locks them in their room at night, makes them shower with her to "save water", talks to them about their father's addiction and their sex life??

"We make funny videos but we also go to couple's therapy because we disagree on 99.9 percent of issues," she said at the time. "There are days when I'm completely sick of him, and there are days when he is completely sick of me. But we've chosen to love one another and to be a team. We've learned how to communicate and argue in a really healthy, respectful way."- Kristen said this about her marriage like girlie nothing about it sounds healthy, if its this much work then it probably isn't love lol

Kate Winslet, Hasta Sun, Moon & Rising

Winslet has worked with predators like Woody Allen, Harvey Weinstein & Roman Polanski and after Me Too, she shifted her narrative as public opinion regarding these men, whose crimes and accusations have been well documented for decades, has thoroughly shifted to the point where associating with them is no longer good for her and would like to join the right side of history. She & Leo have partied on Jeffrey Epstein's private island as well and she's one the many signatories who signed a petition to free Roman Polanski ewww

This is one example of how image conscious Moon dominant people are, she has no moral compass and had no issue working with all these predators for decades but once it became apparent that she wouldn't benefit from associating with them anymore she's suddenly all "omg terrible men i wish id known better" lol what a liar

She also played a sociopathic Nazi in the movie The Reader

Josephine Baker, Rohini Sun

Josephine Baker was a dancer known for her banana skirt dancing. Later in life, she adopted 12 children from different ethnicities and spent the rest of her life raising them. She is remembered as an icon and for her activism but her children have come out to describe how abusive she was to them.

During her participation in the civil rights movement, Baker began to adopt children, forming a family which she often referred to as "The Rainbow Tribe". Baker wanted to prove that "children of different ethnicities and religions could still be brothers." She often took the children with her cross-country, and when they were at Château des Milandes, she arranged tours so visitors could walk the grounds and see how natural and happy the children were in "The Rainbow Tribe". Her estate featured hotels, a farm, rides, and the children singing and dancing for the audience. She charged an admission fee to visitors who entered and partook in the activities, which included watching the children play.

She created dramatic backstories for them, picking them with clear intent in mind: at one point, she wanted and planned to adopt a Jewish baby, but she settled for a French one. She also raised them in different religions in order to further her model for the world, taking two children from Algeria and raising one child as a Muslim and raising the other child as a Catholic. One member of the Tribe, Jean-Claude Baker, said: "She wanted a doll".

Baker forced Jarry to leave the château and live with his adoptive father, Jo Bouillon, in Argentina, at the age of 15, after discovering that he was gay. Moïse died of cancer in 1999, and Noël was diagnosed with schizophrenia and is in a psychiatric hospital as of 2009. Jean-Claude Baker, the unofficial addition to the Rainbow Tribe, committed suicide in 2015, aged 71.

Angelina Jolie, Rohini Sun

Jolie was clearly inspired by Josephine Baker. she adopted children from different ethnicities and even bought a Chateau in France to raise them in (just like Baker did). For many years Jolie received a lot of flak for her unconventional parenting, like frequently travelling, homeschooling all her kids and not giving them a bedtime or any kind of stable daily routine. I can't comment on it too much because there's not that much about their personal life on the internet but what I do find very interesting is how Jolie has always used the paparazzi to push a certain image and stay relevant. We know that paps only come when you call them, even Beyonce never gets papped, so its very much possible to live a lowkey life. Angelina gets papped absolutely all the time for the last 20yrs, it was especially bizarre because it was obvious that she was trying to shed the "homewrecker image" by always being photographed with her kids doing mom things and its a bit problematic to think that she's using her children as pap fodder to push an agenda. Again, I think Brad is an abusive person but he often spoke back in the day about his desire to keep the children out of the public eye but Angie had to shed her weird punk goth who kissed her brother and was addicted to bad men and drugs image so she tried to present herself as the kind humanitarian and loving mother, I'm not saying that she isn't those things, except that girlie will make sure the paps are around to photograph her doing these things like she called the paps to her daughter's first day of college bro likeeee

Here's a very old article about how smart she is at crafting her image. Again this is not in and of itself a bad thing but it's kind of bizarre to realise how image conscious people can be and how something that seems so "real" and "natural" is actually a well calculated move on their part.

Angelina also played the sociopath Lisa Rowe in the movie Girl, Interrupted. people often associate this character with her Revati Moon but i assure you this is all on her Rohini Sun

Russell Peters - Hasta Sun

Russell is really good at studying people, accents, mannerisms etc which is what makes him a really good comedian but he's also fckn rude and disgusting from time to time.

Honestly Moon dominant men always spew the most vile shit, they talk about people especially women in THE most disgusting way. actual psychopaths ew especially the cocky self assured way in which they say all this bullshit???

Errol Morris- Shravana Sun

he is a documentary filmmaker whose work focuses on the epistemology of the subject, he's obsessed with human nature and trying to understand why people do what they do, all of his docus focus on vvv unusual people, death row prisoners, defence secretary instrumental in the vietnam war, insurance frauds, a man who designs death machines, pet cemeteries etc Morris focuses on people who are questionable to say the least, he tries to humanize people perceived as evil or bad (Moon dominant af lol bc who else would be interested in the motives of bad ppl??)

This preoccupation with human nature is deeply tied to the nature of Lunar people. They have a need to understand "motivations" and what drives people to do what they do. There is an innate tendency to pathologize or pick apart behaviour. This isn't inherently a bad thing but it is something I have noticed among Lunar people.

James Randi- Rohini rising

He was a magician and skeptic who spent his life exposing other people and their paranormal and pseudoscientific claims.

Moon dominant people are skeptical of everything and the least likely to believe in anything, they're always looking for the truth because they deeply understand human ugliness and believe everybody else is like that (they see themselves reflected in others, which is to say that if they're capable of it, then so must others).

Roman Polanski- Hasta Rising

pedophile and child rapist Polanski has directed movies like Rosemary's Baby, Chinatown, The Palace, The Pianist etc,, all of his movies have heavy elements of deceit, lies, manipulation etc all of his characters are looking for the truth.

Claire had mentioned in her video about wealth as to how Rohini (Venus is domiciled in Taurus) (Moon exalts in Rohini) creates contentment and this leads to stagnation because dissatisfaction is what creates growth. If someone is content where they are they decay. I think this can be broadly applied to all 3 Moon naks because they have no other motives, nothing to dry them so they start rotting on the inside and doing terrible, horrible, evil things. Venus and Moon embodies the ugliness of humanity.

Josef Mengele- Hasta Moon

He was a Nazi doctor who conducted abhorrent and deadly medical experiments on the prisoners at Auschwitz and administered the gas to gas chambers. He was nicknamed "Angel of Death"

Lenin- Shravana Moon

if you're familiar with the history of the soviet union you will know that Lenin wasnt exactly a sweetheart

Heinrich Himmler-Hasta Sun, Shravana Rising and Ketu in Rohini

he was a prominent Nazi leader who is "credited" with "designing the Holocaust"

Edward Teller- Rohini Moon

This is the guy who betrayed Oppenheimer and is called "the father of the hydrogen bomb". he later expressed guilt over his involvement in the dropping of atom bombs over hiroshima and nagasaki

Henry Kissinger - Rohini Sun & mercury

he was a warmongering asshole who i hope is rotting in hell. he's one of the worst human beings to have ever existed due to the sheer scale and capacity of crimes he enabled and the millions of people who died as a result. i have extensively talked about how Moon dominant people lack empathy, they literally do not care about others, they are selfish to the point where its actually disgusting and pathetic and this guy is one of the worst examples

During the 1968 presidential election he was in the Johnson administration but wanted to get in good with Nixon. So he leaked information about peace talks with North Vietnam to Nixon. They then went on to use this information to sabotage the peace talks and in turn the election.

He committed treason to extend the Vietnam War, ultimately by seven years. That alone makes him a rare breed of terrible. But it’s also damning because it shows how he ultimately believe in anything other than that he deserves to be close to power. He was willing to play games with millions of human lives over a job. And he would have been in the Humphrey administration if Nixon lost, so it was just a job he wanted more. He didn’t care about fighting communism, the rule of law, patriotism, anything. His death toll alone puts him on a short list of the worst people to ever live, but most of the people on there did what they did for an ideology.

He’s also been described as “the Forrest Gump of war crimes.” He just shows up for no good reason in the history of so many atrocities. Often he ordered them, but he also installed dictators who would carry out genocides. There’s worse people in history, but none who have been involved in so many separate crimes.

just read anything about this vile shitty man and you will understand the kind of cruelty and apathy Moon dominant people are capable of.

moon dominant people are "good" with political & military strategy because they dont care about anybody's well being except their own lol

one time i spoke to a Moon dominant guy and he said that there's no such thing as altruism or selflessness and that everybody behaves in their self interest, i found that very cynical and disturbing and he said even people who do charity or appear to be kind are only doing it because they want others to see them that way and that really says more about the nature of Moon dominant people than anything else. he also said he loved attention of any kind and would do anything to trigger people just so they'd react and give him attention lol basically he admitted to having sociopathic tendencies. He was Rohini Moon. imagine being so morally bankrupt and soulless that you cant believe there's goodness in this world or that people are good with no agenda lol I feel bad for people who have to live life being that bitter, imagine rotting on the inside like that

Herman Kahn- Hasta Moon

He was a military strategist and developed the nuclear strategy of USA during the cold war. which is to say his entire job revolved around manipulation. He is quoted as saying:

"At the minimum, an adequate deterrent for the United States must provide an objective basis for a Soviet calculation that would persuade them that, no matter how skillful or ingenious they were, an attack on the United States would lead to a very high risk if not certainty of large-scale destruction to Soviet civil society and military forces." 💀💀💀(avg moon dominant man be like)

In Kahn’s book, the Doomsday Machine is an example of the sort of deterrent that appeals to the military mind but that is dangerously destabilizing. Since nations are not suicidal, its only use is to threaten.

ok thats it for now besties whewww

i am not claiming that all moon dominant people are terrible people so if you have these placements dont take it to heart. i do however think that the dark side of the moon dominant native is truly terrifying. all i wanted to do was shed light on that.

[dotomuses]

morbidial (fatui x abyss!reader) child neglect, mention of death, violence

00 — remember me.

it’s not that you don’t remember, it’s just that there’s a lot you don’t. it’s painful, to reach out into whatever clear corners were left in your mind to find any trace of you and not those of a creature from the abyss. whether it’s some spell of subserviency, some sick side-affect of the void, or your own mind, you just can’t remember.

but you do, don't you? you choose to forget. you can try to convince yourself that it’s to keep the abyss from having any more leverage on you, but that’s a lie. you don’t want to remember because you still mourn, you keep mourning a life you never had.

of course you remember a soft hand swiping over your face, to wash dirt and grime off of you when they first found you. you remember the same hand pushing you away when you cried, because snezhnaya does not believe in tears.

you remember her too. you remember your mother. you remember her gentle laughter and her close-eyed smile, you remember her scornful glances and the way her hands tensed at loud children. you remember her disappearing for months for work and returning with the nice men and their big guns.

you remember your siblings welcoming her back, the elder girls and boys clapping and bowing, while the younger ones sprang and beamed at her. you remember wanting to do the same, but feeling lightheaded and ill when you saw her. weariness, you learned later, was what you felt.

you once wanted, so bad, to be a part of the big family you lived with. barely eight, with big, hopeful eyes, clinging to the coat of the man who brought you there, staring up at the big colosseum of a house and the many children running around there.

you had once been so ecstatic to start this different life, after the troubling one you had so far, seeing all the children laugh and run around. but you were a hare among rabbits and a dog among wolves. your life so far had made you too harsh for the innocence of a normal childhood and too weak for one of hardships. you tried to blend in, but it was hopeless. did you try too hard, or not try hard enough?

trying to join in on games was easy at first, everyone was excited at the prospect of a new playmate, a new sibling. but when you recoiled too harshly at being touched and caught in a game of tag, they pulled away, awkward. you liked to draw too, but showing others your pictures made you shy and embarrassed, but the children thought of you as egoistical. small things, very, very small things, made you too odd to be around. 

the other children would find your unblinking stare unsettling, and your stillness unnerving. it wasn’t that the house of the hearth didn’t have its own black sheep, but let us not pretend you were a lamb. an ugly duckling, who wasn’t a swan chick in the wrong nest, but a loon out of water.

eventually, your oddity just became you. you didn’t understand why nobody at all talked to you. the children in your years swerved around you, not wanting to attach themselves to a weed like yourself, and influenced by their elders, the new children avoided you like a plague.

it was… unbearable. your situation is so pitiable and morose that you fell into a mood too sombre for a little youth. isolation and loneliness sent you into a dark place, and the fragile hope that rested in your bones was shattered with every rejection you received. a little child, depraved of the stimulating feeling of joy and the company of your only community. a little child, taken from one poor family to another. a bird first held under the water, and then taken away to be held under sand.

nobody saw you. nobody at all. not your absent mother, not the caretaking mistresses, not your “siblings”, nobody. you had managed to get through it for the first year, but your peace had cracked quickly after. loneliness had irreparably, irreversibly, permanently been changed into a different person. at some point in your childhood, you became violent, scratching at anyone who came too close, and sneering at just about anyone with cutting words. you had hoped your outbursts of anger would have made you more noticeable, and the scolding of others made you beam with satisfaction. 

only until of course, the scoldings thinned out, and the house left you be, hoping to satiate you with silence and alone-time. you could have laughed at the irony of it if you didn’t feel so ridden with despair, your ears perpetually ringing from the quiet, your efforts truly were useless weren’t they?

your only method of releasing any pent up energy and dismay was the training your mother insisted every child in the house must participate in. beating at dummies with a stupid wooden club to hopefully beat away at your steadily growing morosity as well. 

your… vigor, if you could call it that, finally got you noticed. by one person, an old lady who patrolled the corridors, playing the role of a “captain” for all the children who trained.

she alone patted at your scars, giving you the simple opportunity of being more. more than your siblings. your depravity allowed you to cling onto any such praise, lighting a bit of a darker competitive streak in you, a blaze of fury stifling down anybody else who even tried to overtake you.

your “captain” prodded at the monster you were becoming, encouraging scuffles rather than reprimanding you for them. she didn’t defend you when the mistresses shrieked over your teeth biting into a girl’s arm, or your foot to a boy’s jaw, letting you snarl back at them yourself.

she created a small young beast, wrapping the thread of your broken heart and fragile soul around her wrinkled fingers, letting you rely on a person you thought truly valued you. perhaps she truly did. you chose to ignore, to forget the bite in her voice when you couldn’t perform well, pushing with more determination to make her proud of you again. you chose to remember her wired hands pulling at your face, joyful of your violent drive and cold sophistication.

your wooden club was replaced by a sword in a month, and your opponents went from dummies to the nice men with big guns who agreed to the lady’s offer to spar with you. you’d always stop at a blade to their throats, a victory, or a breathless lean against your weapon, a failure.

you, for once, felt complete. worthy. useful. even more so when your opponent grumbled congratulations, surely you were allowed a little smugness at fighting grown men and winning.

your mentor passed shortly after you came of age. you mourned for two months and a half, grieving the one person who gave you a glance that lasted longer than a second. the familiarity of your life fell and faded quickly, your spars less frequent and your days more empty.

you didn’t feel upset. she had been ailing for a while, and her death must have brought her peace. peace that you would cherish for her, in the place of her withering corpse. you were old enough to contribute to what she and the house had trained you and your siblings so long for, the mother government of snezhnaya, a nation you’d never even gotten close to visiting. 

your years there, however few, got you a strange reputation. right from the very start of your soldiership you were avoided by those under the knave, your mother, and the others caught along quickly. your team of weaker gunmen and hammer-wielding men were assigned to you simply so you could keep them alive long enough to fulfill their own duties. you found it nearly disgusting, the lack of their ability and their belief in their own contribution to the motherland. what did they think they were contributing to, sitting around while you hunted food and intruders alike? useless folk. all of them.

you tuned it out, your irritation, as you have and would many times over. your goals did not sit still like your comrades, but changed by the will of your leaders. did you consider them worthy enough to listen to? maybe not, but the sense of security you got in following orders, anchoring yourself in a community, gave you life.

then came the abyss, with her gentle hands, whisking your alice liddell self away into a wonderland, and you found security in being powerful.

dear, (name), how does it feel to hate enough to floor cities to the ground? to feel angry enough to swipe your claws at any man remotely brave enough to approach you? to be stealthy enough to evade your weak life in the overworld for centuries, and strong enough to keep yourself from dwelling over it? you have become one of the many gems from the abyssal cave. 

beautiful thing, do hope that the prince and his people do not bore themselves out at musing over you.

your peace comes in fragments, make them whole. at least, live trying. your stillness becomes that of a lynx, and your unblinking eyes that of a snake. your harshness is the beak of a loon. your claws are sharp and your canines sharper. they adore you more than anyone else ever has. 

value it, value them.

don't forget.

interaction appreciated !

ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ i will probably continue the sagau series as well, but i'm a little demotivated to finish it. i am planning to turn this into a series, please do share ideas and thoughts >< it does help in keeping that drive to write a bit.

[iheartbrink]

it will rain — chap. 1

 ⠀ ── ⠀ pair: pastors daughter!stewie x oc

 ⠀ ── ⠀ warnings: extremely heavy religious talk, religious guilt, talks of conversion camp, all the things, this is wordy and too long.

 ⠀ ── ⠀ a/n: my brain is fried from writing this.. not proofread whatsoever.

Breanna knew what she was doing was wrong. Every fiber of her being screamed it. She knew that by crossing this line, she was damning herself. Damning herself not just in the eyes of her parents, her church, or her peers, but in the eyes of God. The teachings she’d grown up with were clear: girls like her were not meant to love girls like Madison. They were meant to confess these urges and purge themselves of these sinful desires. Yet, here she was, on the precipice of something that could never be undone.

She knew, with bone-deep certainty, that if her mother—let alone her father—ever found out about what she was doing, she would be sent away. There would be no forgiveness, no understanding, only punishment. Maybe she’d be shipped off to one of those camps. Or perhaps they’d try to “pray the gay away” during one of the church’s all-night revival sessions. Either way, Breanna wouldn’t be allowed to stay.

She would be sent away.

Sent away from the one person who had ever truly seen her. Sent away from the only person who made her feel as though she wasn’t walking through life with a mask on, pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Sent away from her first love, her real love. The one she’d never expected, and yet couldn’t deny.

But what if she wasn’t sent away? What if her secret remained? Could she live with it, knowing it defied everything she had been taught? What would it mean for her, and Madison, if they managed to keep this under wraps? Would the love they shared be worth the risk of eternal damnation?

 ⠀ ── ⠀

Rosewood, California, wasn’t exactly a place for people like Breanna. Not for a queer girl growing up under the suffocating expectations of the church. Certainly not for the daughter of Pastor Stewart, who led Rosewood Catholic Church with an iron grip on morality. In this small town, Breanna was not just Breanna Stewart. She was the Breanna Stewart—church princess, moral compass for others, and the girl who seemingly had it all figured out.

But no one knew about the unrest raging beneath her exterior. Not her father, her mother, or even Lucas—the boy she was supposed to be in love with.

Lucas was a nice enough guy, she supposed, but Breanna couldn’t help the gnawing emptiness she felt whenever he kissed her. There was no spark, no fire, only an odd sense of obligation. She tried to convince herself that this was just how things were meant to be. That she should feel lucky to have a good guy like Lucas, but deep down she knew it was a lie.

Because whenever she looked at her best friend, Madison, her heart surged in a way it never did for Lucas. The way Madison laughed, the way her hair fell in waves over her shoulders, the way she smiled at Breanna like she was the most important person in the world—those things ignited something within her she could not deny.

Breanna had convinced herself for so long that she wasn’t gay. She wasn’t. She couldn’t be. After all, being gay was a sin, and Breanna Stewart didn’t sin. At least, she wasn’t supposed to. But the feelings she had for Madison were impossible to ignore. She could push them down, try to hide them away, but they always resurfaced, stronger each time.

And tonight, they were about to come to a head.

 ⠀ ── ⠀

Breanna knew that coming to this party was a terrible idea. She knew the moment she stepped through the door that she should’ve turned around and gone home.

She had told herself she would stay for an hour, just long enough to show her face and then leave before anything went too far. But somehow, she found herself drawn into a circle of friends playing Seven Minutes in Heaven, a game she had heard about but never dared to play. Not with Madison sitting right next to her, her best friend, her not-so-secret crush.

Now, she was about to enter that dark, claustrophobic closet with Madison. Seven minutes. Alone. With the one person, she had forbidden herself from ever thinking about this way. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she stood up to go inside, the air in the room feeling thick and oppressive.

“This is a bad idea,” Breanna thought, over and over again. But her feet kept moving, carrying her forward. She told herself it was just a game, just an innocent little game. She could kiss Madison, prove to herself that it wasn’t all that. Prove to herself that this was nothing more than a phase.

“Kiss her once, show yourself how horrible it is. Then you’ll never crave it again,” Breanna whispered under her breath as they stepped inside the cramped space together.

But the moment Madison’s arm brushed against hers, doubt crept in. The warmth of her skin sent a shiver down Breanna’s spine. The familiar scent of Madison’s perfume filled the small closet, making it hard to breathe.

What if this wasn’t as bad of an idea as she had convinced herself? What if kissing Madison wasn’t a mistake, but rather, the thing she had been denying herself for so long? What if, instead of pushing her further away, this kiss brought them closer together?

She swallowed hard, torn between the pull of desire and the fear of losing everything she had built with Madison.

“Just a quick kiss,” Breanna murmured, the words barely a whisper, her voice unrecognizable to her own ears. Madison’s eyes widened in surprise, searching Breanna’s face for any sign of uncertainty.

“Are you sure?” Madison asked, her voice soft but filled with concern, her breath warm against Breanna’s cheek.

Breanna nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. “Yeah. Just this once.”

Madison hesitated for a moment, and then leaned in. Their lips met softly at first, a gentle touch that sent a shockwave through Breanna’s entire body. Her breath hitched, and for a second, she thought about pulling away. But something deeper took over, and before she knew it, the kiss deepened.

Time seemed to stop. There was no party, no game, no world outside of this kiss. There was only Madison. And as their lips moved together, slow and tentative at first, then more confident, Breanna felt something ignite within her that she hadn’t known was there.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Breanna knew in that instant that this wasn’t just a moment of weakness. This wasn’t a mistake to be buried and forgotten. This was the beginning of something far bigger, something she could no longer ignore.

It wasn’t a sin. It was love. And love, no matter what they said, couldn’t be wrong. Could it?

[princesssszzzz]

I don’t know why people keep trying to come up with justifications for why they ignore Baela and Rhaena as main characters. Your stanning characters that haven’t appeared on screen yet so I’m not sure why pretend that screentime matters. No one has to stan any character so I’m trying to understand why lie and keep making excuses for it 😂 like?? Just don’t stan them then if you don’t want to 😂😂

“Baela and Rhaena aren’t the same as the book counterparts”

So because they don’t have word for word the exact life and portrayal that people got from a historical book, then they forever have to be investigated and compared on screen? All the discourse strays away from what was on screen and the attention put on what wasn’t on screen, which is why people have convinced themselves that Rhaena had literally no lines in S1 even though she did. No other character from the show is the same as their book counterpart so why is this only applied to them.

“They don’t appear different from each other, I don’t know their personality”

Even with the multitude of shit writing from the writing team, they are very clearly two different characters and tbh even if they weren’t it wouldn’t matter. Why? Same as my other reasoning. They aren’t the only characters missing development on screen but they are the only characters people just can’t fill in the gaps with apparently. 80% of the discourse surrounding other characters are literally headcanons people made up out of their ass or from the book😂 Like at what point have people seen Rhaena pick up a crossbow or Baela touch a dragon egg and want it to hatch. Please bffr. It also reminds me a lot of the fandom kept intentionally incorrectly portraying Baela as a rough and tough butch lesbian in fics and fan art and getting offended because that’s not how she’s portrayed on screen. All the while ignoring the fight scenes she has btw which lets me know that even if she was portrayed similar to book Baela, they would still be pretending like they don’t see that.

It’s so funny and the same with the Jace/Baela CANON ship. They suddenly can’t see chemistry unless they fuck on screen and profess their love for each other every time they talk, but with everyone else all they have to do is stand in the same room together and the fandom starts writing ship headcanons. It’s so funny and unserious when I hear these talking points.

[heretherebedork]

I have been thinking about this all weekend.

About Segasaki constantly controlling himself in front of everyone... except for Yoh.

Controlling himself constantly, always wearing a mask, always pretending to be not just fine but happy and not just happy but to be their friend and not just their friend but to trust them and yet there was none of that.

Segasaki has spent his entire life controlling himself and wearing a mask and pretending to be who he is not but he has been trying not to do that with Yoh.

And what to him is taking off a mask and being himself is, to Yoh, proof that he cares more about everyone else in his life than Yoh because he is nice to them, he smiles for them, he talks to them, he seems to share so much more with them than with Yoh.

But it's all mask. A lie. Meticulous control at every moment.

And that's the problem.

Segasaki is constantly covering up his feelings and thoughts and controlling every aspect of himself... except with Yoh.

He isn't just covering up his emotions, he's hiding that he's sick enough to need support getting home. His weakness, his feelings, his true self, everything is locked behind a mask the moment he walks out the door or sees someone besides Yoh.

(We always see it in the show because Segasaki away from Yoh is so, so different. But Yoh wants that version of him because he doesn't understand that he's getting the real version and everyone else gets the mask. Because Yoh thinks he's getting the cruel version and everyone else is getting the better version because he doesn't understand. Because he's never been told and he's got his own issues with anxiety and depression and masks.)

Yoh might have fallen at first sight but it was Segasaki who fell much, much harder. Because Yoh found someone beautiful and captivated him but Segasaki found someone who let him take off his mask and be himself.

Now he just has to convince Yoh that who he is when they're together isn't the angrier or more hurtful version of the person he sees with everyone else but rather the real version of himself made of love and freedom and the need to care for Yoh and to be cared for in return, to be given a safe place for both of them to be vulnerable and themselves.

[magixfairyix]

Mental health storytime because it's funny. Also, Winx related in a bit of a dark way. I laugh at this now, you can laugh at this too. Please laugh.

The irls gon get lore.

SO-

When I was 14 and dealing with stress (ie, bickering going on with fam and with my sibling that wasn't that serious/the latter just made me feel like shit, but this was the first actual stressor I got, and school stress first started hitting) I made a 'very good' decision.

This was a lie, but honestly, it's better than some other coping mechanism I could've gone to.

A 14-year-old me made the decision to force myself to pretend my favourite show existed to the point where I would be convinced I was telepathically communicating with characters and that on my 16th birthday, I would be whisked away.

The show was Winx, yes.

This is where you laugh.

That's where Iorda (oc) came from actually, but at that time I just gave her my name. Y'know how Iorda is the fairy of dark arts and all?

YEaH that's who I made myself think I was. I think I had doubts deep down all this shit was real, but I deluded myself so much istg.

I thought, yes, I was telepathically communicating with Musa. Clearly a coping mechanism when I needed comfort irl but ANYWAY. I thought the Trix were threatening me in my dreams.

I was kinda out of it during those two years ngl, and also didn't really do my best to think about the actual relationships I had in real life.

Dear god that Winx quote, "faries think of others before themselves," or whatever that was messed me up so bad. Again, Winx was the only thing I cared about cause delulu, so the quotes I viewed like a fucking Bibble.

Self-hatred issues probably stemmed from that ngl. I remember staring up at the roof and telling myself shitty things because I thought irl relationships failing (ie, sibling relationships) was my fault and that I needed to try harder and that I was being selfish.

(Still unpacking and fixing that but-)

But yeah, this shit stopped when I watched Arcane. I saw Jinx and I realized that since I relate to her, something must be wrong with me.

I was researching Jinx and I read that she suffered from delusions (I didn't suffer from that, more so just extreme escapism) but yeah, that kinda scared me enough to stop. Three months before my 16th birthday, so that birthday was kind of a rude awakening.

Between that and now were some strange years though ngl.

Like, I was afraid to do anything Winx-related and would cry/stress if I thought I was 'getting back into that place' again. Got over that, lol, thank fucking god. Cried myself to sleep over that a few times.

Also didn't trust my own thoughts a lot of the time, and thought other people were secretly against me for a few months. Making decisions was hell, and I couldn't really mentally regulate myself. So the thing I decided to do (actually a good decision) was just thinking what my comfort characters would want me to do.

My comfort characters were the Trix (and no I didn't think they were real at this time, but they were the resource I had) and half the time, what I thought they would say was, 'bitch please stop hating yourself and keep working on your mental health.'

This lasted awhile (four years) and only really stopped two months ago. I can regulate myself without thinking of comfort characters now so yay. Things improve.

Also, ofc getting out of That Place (delulu-ville) I didn't have much motivation for the future, specifically school. I just told myself when high school started to be smart (like Darcy lol, once again, didn't think they were real at the time, but I had to get myself motivated somehow) and faked it for a few months before actually getting motivated.

Gurl was the reason I've been able to work on my mental health for four years ngl.

No longer in delulu-Ville, I can now regulate myself. SO YEAH-

That's the reason Winx Club is special to my heart (mainly from how the Trix as comfort characters helped get me out of the things that came after delulu-Ville).

I hope you enjoyed my Ted Talk.

You can laugh now, because I sure am.

[xxsabitoxx]

Being Sanemi’s Tsugoku

Other pillar versions (coming soon?)

A/N: it’s been a hot mother fucking minute since I’ve posted Sanemi. With Demon Slayer Sundays just a week away it’s only right that I return to my roots of posting some demon slayer content

Pink text is You — Green text is Sanemi

(Cosmo and Wanda think they slick—)

You couldn’t lie, you were initially petrified when Kagaya appointed you as Sanemi’s tsugoku

It was typical for the Hashira themselves to pick someone, usually someone they knew and trusted. Someone they could put their full faith in to fulfill their duties if it just so happen the current pillar was to lose the fight

That wasn’t the case for you. Kagaya himself appointed you for your outstanding performance and understanding of wind breathing

Needless to say, Sanemi wasn’t thrilled

“Just keep your mouth shut and maybe I won’t kill you.”

You could feel your brow twitch, you didn’t let anyone talk to you in such a tone. Wind pillar or not, you’d sooner die than be walked all over.

“Watch your tone and maybe I won’t beat your ass.”

Thus began Sanemi’s never ending torture. Torture he had to tolerate solely because Kagaya appointed you.

Hell it was likely a test at this point, put some sort of humanity in him so he wouldn’t get himself killed.

Sanemi’s training was nothing short of su!cidal, honestly by the end of the first day you were convinced he was trying to k!ll you

It consisted of training from sunrise until sunset followed by accompanying him on his patrolling. It would be a full twenty four hours until you saw your bed again.

“No wonder you look so psychotic, you don’t fucking sleep.”

He, of course, didn’t answer you. It seems he had taken his own advice to heart and decided keeping his mouth shut would save him the headache.

This intense regimen would continue for a full month, only half a day break in between so you could get some sleep.

You’d quickly learn his goal was to break you. Get you to leave the corps with your head hung low.

“Ya know, it’s kinda odd you’re so determined to get me to leave. It’s almost as if you care about me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. The corps is no place for weaklings, nothing more than demon bait at this point.”

“Ain’t that what you’d want then? People to lure the demons to you. Makes it easier than hunting them, pretending to be the prey I mean.”

Sanemi ended that conversation with a simple glare, something in his eyes that you’d never seen before. For once you let him drop it, not willing to uncover the man’s traumas against his will.

Sanemi’s behavior towards you mellowed slightly after three months of you being his tsugoku. You simply weren’t going anywhere any time soon so he didn’t think the hard ass attitude was quite necessary.

That’s not to say he started taking it easy on you… not by a long shot actually. If anything his schedule for you only got more intense. But it was different.

You could tell he was training you with the intent of keeping you alive, not scaring you out of the corps.

“I think we’ll be friends soon.” You laughed softly as you ate your lunch, sanemi was sitting a few feet away under the shade of a tree. “I don’t make friends.” It was gruff, food getting shoved into his mouth a moment later. “Okay tough guy, you’ll realize soon enough.” All you got was a nose scrunch in return.

The thing is, you were right. Sanemi should have known it would be impossible, even for him, to spend nearly every waking moment with someone and not enjoy their presence.

Around the six month mark of being his tsugoku, you found it easier to hold a conversation with him. Especially since he’d actually entertain it. Hell you’d even crack jokes with one another. It was safe to say he tolerated you now.

And not out of obligation

“I want you to leave the corps. I’m telling Master that you aren’t up to my satisfaction.” You froze, head whipping around to see if he was joking. The look on his face told you he wasn’t. “Aren’t we past this bull shit, Shinazugawa?”

Truth was, he’d gotten attached to you in some odd way. It fucking terrified him.

“You’ll do as I say, as your overseer. You have to obey my wishes.” You couldn’t quite understand why his attitude had switched, as if six months of work had suddenly never happened. “Bull shit. What the fuck happened?” He only shook his head, not able to maintain eye contact. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It wasn’t long before it turned into a full blow yelling match.

“I’ll tell Master you’re full of shit. Chances are he’ll fucking believe me, Shinazugawa.” For the first time, he was losing a battle in more ways than one. “Oh fuck off.” Was all he could muster, brain moving a mile a minute as he tried to figure out a better way to reason with you.

What had you done to him? He wanted to reason with you? That thought terrified him even worse.

In the end, all of his logic flew out the window as he uttered the very words he didn’t want to say out loud. Not because he didn’t mean them, but because he didn’t want to make things worse. He was already struggling with these new emotions, never mind making them known to you.

“I care about you a little too much to let you throw your life away in this hellish profession.”

That got you to freeze, eyes wide as you tried to gauge what exactly he meant by that statement. Silence hung between the two of you, you weren’t sure how long you both stood there in the back yard of his estate. But by the time you had gotten the courage to even make a noise, he was turning his back to you.

“Woah hold the fuck on! Don’t run away from me after saying something like that? Hell, Shinazugawa you never run from anything never mind me!”

For a moment he really wished some divine force would come down and kill him on the spot.

Yet, he steadied himself, realizing that you were right. He’d never run away from a fight, never mind being a coward with his own feelings. So he stopped, turning around to stop you in your tracks.

“I fucking care about you, what’s there to not understand?”

“That’s not where I’m confused you moron.”

He knew what you were implying, he knew what you wanted to hear and yet he found himself struggling. Being a Hashira gave him no right to admit he had feelings for you. It would only be cruel to you, especially since you were to be his successor.

“Shina—no—Sanemi. Explain yourself.”

That was his breaking point, eyes shutting as he exhaled slowly. Hearing his first name fall from your lips, this wasn’t exactly the situation he wanted to hear it for the first time. Yet it was enough to give him courage.

“I care about you, more than a friend, more than a tsugoku. There, happy?”

The shit eating grin that crept up your face was more than enough to show him that you were.

“See… I was right. I told you we’d become friends.”

“I just said I liked you more than a friend.”

“Fair enough, I guess it’s safe to say I underestimated you, master.”

“I’m still making you leave the corps.”

“Maybe if you offer me your hand in marriage I’ll consider it.”

He was starting to question why he even grew to like you in the first place. Though, the smile on your face had him mentally reminding himself to thank Kagaya for giving you to him.