#never neglect your bottoms people !!

[coldblooded-angel]

My thoughts during the Churro™ scene as a professionally licensed Yapper:

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT:

While they’re in the canteen, there’s a moment where Art looks at Patrick and you can clearly see the relief in his eyes that he has his friend there with him. (Or does he??)

I don’t think Art was lying about not keeping in touch with Patrick. In between his tennis career and his relationship, Patrick has neglected Art (which I think is because he’s so used to him being there that he just never fathomed him not being there which makes him complacent in their friendship).

But when Art realizes that once again Patrick has been taken away by just the mere image of Tashi, he’s hurt. I think in that moment Art wanted to feed that hurt, lash out and make Patrick feel the pain he feels for being left out.

Art jokes about Patrick not being there to visit him because he misses him. He misses his friend, his constant and yes, it’s in a joking manner but Patrick sees thru him (as he always does).

(The fucking head tilt took me out because it screams fond like ‘aw baby u really did miss me ure so cute when ure jealous but wont admit it’)

The entire scene (for me) turns into reassurances and doubts. Their friendship was being tested to see if it could withstand having to share their love and space with a third. Having to make concessions and space around their new desire and jealousy.

When Art tries to downplay his thoughts, trying to twist Tashi’s words to manipulate he was clearly being petty but I also think there’s some truth to his statement of not wanting Patrick to get hurt. He is his friend first but he also knows him (the same intrinsic way that Patrick knows Art) and how his friend will be able to bounce back from any relationship because Art truly doesn’t think these two are that serious (blinded by Patrick’s history and his own feelings). So Patrick sees the manipulation for what it is.

(The fond look in his eye when Art isn’t looking. That man is in love your honor!!!!!)

Patrick knows Art was trying to manipulate him. He knows it and he likes it, encourages it even. He looks at him like he’s proud of Art. The fact that it mattered more to him that Art was actually being vocal about his own wants instead of repressing as he always did, even if it was through breaking him and his girlfriend up. He didn’t even see it as a threat because it never occurs to him that he could lose Tashi to Art (or vice versa) because at this point, he’s secure in his place within the triangle. But also reveals how insecure Art feels within that same triangle because of his perceived isolation.

[neolithicsheep]

I've been meaning to write this down for some time because there are some fundamental errors that people keep making in crowdfunding/sales that shoot their campaigns in the foot. So here's a list of easy principles.

Who am I and why should you listen to me? I am a freelance chaos marketer who has raised well over $100,000 when totaling up various crowdfunding campaigns, mostly for aid to Afghanistan. In addition I've managed to successfully market everything from stuffed plush koalas to hydration salts. Why am I putting this out here for free? Because despite a years long track record of success in social media marketing no one will hire me because I don't have a college degree, so I might as well help people out who can't afford to hire full time marketing. 

If you'd like to hire me to help you evaluate your marketing and sales and teach you better skills on a 1 to 1 basis then hit me up, I am often willing to barter, esp with artists in a variety of mediums! 

Anyway on to HOW TO CONVINCE PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU MONEY:

TL;DR: use positive messaging that humanizes everyone involved and make it as easy as possible for people to give you money.

1. Shame and guilt are demotivators. They will not inspire people to give you money. “Why aren't people helping” “I guess people don't care” “This isn't getting enough shares/donations” etc etc. Online fundraising is often frustrating, heartbreaking, and will make you angry, especially when there's a humanitarian crisis involved. It is critical that if you are raising funds for someone else that you have a place to vent that is not the audience you would like to donate to the cause. 

2. Use motivating messages instead! “You can help!” “Even a small donation is important because it tells Recipient they're not alone, and people care” “We can't fix the whole world, but we can make this one thing right, and that means something”. Emphasize that this is a problem that the reader can help fix with even a small effort. With items for sale, tell a story. "I drew this thinking about how safe I always felt under a tree in my childhood backyard". "I chose the colors in this shawl to remind me of sagebrush and piñon pine in my favorite place."

3. Make it easy for people to give you money. Never talk about your product or cause without a link that leads directly to where people can give you money. They should be able to click one link on your post and land at the fundraiser or your shop. Every required click is going to lose people, so minimize the number of them required. This also means if you have a list of fundraisers for people to choose from the ones at the bottom will be neglected - people will hit the ones at the top. Be sure to take those off when they're met or periodically shuffle the list around to make sure everyone gets a chance to be in the first 5 spots. In online stores people will often only look at the first page or two of items so be sure to shuffle things around and remove out of stock items that are taking up prime real estate.

4. Humanize the recipient - this can be tricksy when raising charitable aid because you don't want to be exploitative. But to use my last Afghan campaign as an example, “We need to raise $500 for an Afghan family” is less effective than “This Afghan family's home was damaged in heavy rains that caused extensive flooding. They only need $500 to repair and rebuild so they can stay in their home and not become displaced.”  If possible, tell as much of the recipient's story as they consent to. Eg “Fred is seven and loves dinosaurs. His favorite is brontosaurus, and he carries a stuffed one with him everywhere. He wants to be a paleontologist when he grows up and discover a complete brontosaurus skeleton that he can give the same name as his stuffed friend. Unfortunately he's also a trans boy living in Texas and his family needs $1500 to rent a Uhaul and get to Colorado so he can grow up in safety and do that.”

5. If you're not the recipient, humanize yourself while you're at it! “I'd be really grateful if you all could share or donate” “This fundraiser really means a lot to me because…” “Thank you so much for any help, whether sharing or donating” 

6. Treat the audience like humans. Speak to them like they are people you're having a conversation with, not ATMs. This ultimately is the goal of not using shame/guilt and humanizing yourself and the recipient. 

7. Set low goals and bump them up when met. One of the weird things about people is they prefer to give to successful fundraisers. Yeah I don't know either. So you're more likely to get the full amount you need if you set a partial goal initially and then raise it when that's met. Raise it in small increments and raise it repeatedly as those goals are hit to keep momentum going. You can't always control this so if you're boosting someone else's fundraiser you can do it artificially via asks like “Hey y'all can we get together and put $500 on this?”

[lymtw]

When you let Toji accompany you in the dressing room

"Toji, um," you struggle with your balance, wobbling when he starts pulling down your underwear. "I don't think this is a good idea. There's a really big gap in this stall. People can see us, or at least me."

He makes you take a few steps back with him until his back meets the wall you share with the next stall. "No one can see you now, okay? Come on." He slides his rough hand up your thigh, pulling your dress up to reveal your bare ass. "You look stunning in this dress, mama," he murmurs into your ear. "You're putting me through hell by having me just stand here and watch you try it on." His breath lures goosebumps out onto your skin. "Just makes me wanna fuck you in it." His other hand paws at your boob, squeezing it repeatedly.

"Well... what if they catch us?" You ask, your defense crumbling as he kisses your shoulder and up the slope to your neck.

"We'll just have to be quiet, won't we?"

—

"F-Fuck, Toji—mmph..." Toji's hand comes up to muffle your sounds.

"Shh... mama. You trying to get us caught?"

You shake your head, but it's proving to be a lot harder than you initially thought. You knew it would be hard, but you didn't know you'd be so terrible at holding your sounds in.

"You look expensive, doll. You want this one?"

"Mhm..." you mumble into his palm.

"Yeah? You can have it. On one condition." He leans in close to your ear. "You only wear it for me."

"Mm-mm..." you shake your head and push his hand away from your mouth. "I-It's a dress, Toji."

"Clearly," he says, smugly.

"I-I wanna wear it out."

He kisses your neck. "That's not what I told you, baby. If you get it, it's for my eyes only." His grip tightens on your hips. "Can't have you prancing around in this little thing. All that spare attention on you," he chuckles in your ear. "my knuckles would never heal."

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your hand holds onto the stall door, the lock rattling noisily.

"That got you?" He snickers. "You really are the embodiment of chaos." His hand continues to paw at your clothed breast. He can feel your nipple hardening over the material, something that fuels the lust his body is feeding you. He groans at the feeling of your cunt clenching sporadically.

"What's it gonna be? You gonna be good and wear it only for me, or are we leaving it behind?"

You don't hear a word he says, the adrenaline pumping through your veins blocking everything out.

"Am I talking to myself, now? Answer the question, baby."

You gasp, your head hanging low. "Mm... okay, okay. It's for you... o-only you."

"Smart girl," he murmurs. "Gonna look so pretty like this on my bed."

"C-Can I cum, please?"

"We're taking too long in here, huh?"

You nod, your grip on the door faltering as your legs threatening to give out.

"Alright, you gotta keep your voice down, though."

Toji reached down to overwhelm your neglected clit, enduring the way your body jolted at the rush of stimulation.

"Come on, baby. Feels good, huh? Make a mess on me.

You shudder, unraveling at the constant feeling of Toji thrusting into you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, almost drawing blood from how hard you bite. Your brows furrow, your eyes shutting tightly as you try your best to suppress the moans that are dying to leave your mouth. Toji watches you, a smirk on his face when he hears the smallest squeak slip out, followed by shuddered breathing.

"Good fucking girl," he praises. His arms wrap tightly around your waist as he keeps rutting into you until he feels like he's about to burst. You tap his thigh when the overstimulation starts creeping in, falling to your hands and knees when he releases you and pulls his cock out to bust into his hand. You could hear his little hums and breaths behind you, a couple fucks muttered. This was his way of not groaning or moaning out loud when his load spurted out.

He looked down at you stretching your back on the floor, still on your hands and knees. The sight made him realize that this little incident wasn't enough to sate his lust for you.

"Get dressed," he says, tucking himself away. He watches you with a wolf-like hunger as you sluggishly take the dress off. You put your underwear back on and got dressed into your outfit. Green eyes bore into your frame as you tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible for when you exit. You could still see the lingering desire in his gaze when you told him you were ready to go.

You clung onto his arm, leaning against him as you walked out. He grabbed the tag number from the stall door and gave it to the woman working the dressing room area. She looked at the weary smile on your face and the random parts of hair that messily stuck out on your head. She reciprocated the smile but with worried eyes.

"We'll be taking this," Toji says, interrupting the woman's focus on you. He raises the dress by the coathanger it's on to briefly show it to her, before quickly dragging you away from her concerned expression.

"We're done here, right? Ready to go home?" Toji mumbles into your hair as he walks you back to the center of the store.

"Mhm, 'm tired. Just take me home already." You start trying to lead him towards the store's exit.

"Whoop, this way." He maneuvers both of you towards the register area. "Gotta pay first."

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: The ☆Glow-Up☆ 2024 Has Planned For you

♠︎ “At bottom every man knows well enough that he is a unique being, only once on this earth; and by no extraordinary chance will such a marvelously picturesque piece of diversity in unity as he is, ever be put together a second time.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. 

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✧ Pile One ✧ (queen of cups, 5oC rev., 10oC, the chariot, the magician, 4oS)

Release.

➣ The central theme of this glow-up is inner fulfillment. You are on a journey of true self-love. The queen of cups is sitting proudly at the front of the spread. Major water energy here. You are unraveling emotional trauma down to your roots and reevaluating past attachments and burdens with the six of cups.

➣ I picture floodgates opening, allowing all of the pent-up emotional turmoil to release and finally free you on a deep psychophysiological level. You released something, an attachment or mindset that was set in motion during your formative years that was hindering your ability to hold compassion for yourself.

➣ Shuffling my music, "Daddy Issues" by the Neighbourhood came on. I also saw the hierophant while shuffling the cards. You experienced a lot of undervaluing and emotional neglect in your home. Emotions in your home were taboo and possibly even punished.

➣ I feel like the people around you growing up, were either always dissatisfied with you in some way or made you feel small. Since this is a group reading, it is hard to word this without excluding a large chunk of the audience, but some of you grew up in a home situation where any form of outward self-love or expression was met with a lot of negativity and ridicule. 

➣ This forced you into hiding your true self which groomed you into a mental space full of self-criticism and doubt. In your mind, you were unwanted or inherently broken in some way and deserved less. The way you were treated created deep emotional wounds in your young psyche which made it hard to feel satisfaction within yourself or with the outer world.

➣ With the five of cups, I get the sense that you had felt you were in a desert and unable to fill any of your cups so to speak. Baby, that’s coming to an end. The ten of cups is at the center of your spread with a big ass RAINBOW touching corner to corner. The drought is over. The dark days are over. The sun is shining and you can taste hope again. 

➣ On this self-love journey, you are currently grieving (releasing) a degraded perception of yourself along with any beliefs that inhibit you from feeling good about your character.

➣ You are realizing just how enough you are and flushing out all of the poison that was crammed in your head about being inadequate. You are freeing yourself from the chains of feeling unworthy of a good life.

➣ You will find true beauty in every corner of you. Beauty in your laugh, beauty in how you dance, beauty in how you take care of yourself, beauty in what you care about, inner beauty that cannot be taken from you or scaled down. You will nurture your inner world, thus adding color to your outer world.

➣ During this major life-changing period, your view of reality will flip in a way you never thought imaginable. Life will feel worth living again. Your music will move you more and the swift pass of wind will invigorate you with new ideas for creative projects that will propel you forward to lifelong prosperity.

➣ I’m hearing 🎵 “… I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so proud of you” from Make Me Proud by Drake. Congratulations babe, you just broke a fucking karmic cycle. 10 of cups, following the 5 of cups??? You have graduated from a dark knight of the soul and are now approaching new, abundant energy.

➣ The universe is proud of you. Your ancestors are proud of you. Your inner child is proud of you. Your God(s) is proud of you. All of the cells in your body are proud of you. You have released something cosmically within you. Please hug yourself and have a good cry because you are doing something you never believed you could. Your hopes and dreams are unfolding.

➣ Get ready to make your daydream your reality.  With the chariot, you’re prepping to TAKE AWWFF BABY. The release of this blockage has raised your energetic vibration and is ushering bountiful opportunities into your life, new passions, new ideas, and new connections. 

➣ Your newfound faith in yourself is going to give you the courage to go out and experience life. Most importantly you will find satisfaction in the mundane. Every frame of your day will be brighter and feel better. You have gone from 5 empty cups to an eternally flowing fountain. Take the time to thank yourself for all of the hard work you put in to get here. 

➣ Advice: Extend yourself grace. During this period, you will have enlightening moments that will unlock pieces of the puzzle surrounding your trauma and a lot more will make sense and become easier to process. 

➣ However, as the flawed humans we are, we tend to make sense of something and then turn around and beat ourselves up for not realizing it sooner. Or, minimizing our pain and criticizing our past selves for not doing more about it because hindsight truly is a dirty dawg. No that is not how it works. 

➣ That’s like when you were in school and the teacher would start bullying you for not understanding a subject. YOU HAVE A DEGREE??? I’m fourteen?? Of course, you can say it's simple when you have already “graduated” and learned from it, not when you’re in the middle of experiencing it.  You gained clarity during this tower moment and can now see the bigger picture and liberate yourself. 

➣ Younger you fought to make your way through the fog and deserves grace because you would not be here today without your younger self’s perseverance. Forgive yourself for the time it took to get here and see the beauty in your evolution throughout the journey.

➣ Also, drink plenty of water and get rest!! It’s Pisces season, and a Pisces new moon is coming too. Most of your trauma will unravel while you’re unconscious. Please get plenty of rest and hydrate. This pile has Cancer/4th house energy written all over it. Mother yourself during this period. Clean your room, make your favorite foods, watch cheesy movies, and splurge on special skin care. Pamper yourself. okay I'm done. KISSES.

"My consciousness has outgrown this vessel"

✧ Pile Two ✧ (4ofS, the tower, the wheel of fortune, the emperor, the lovers, judgment, 7ofW, ace of wands)

Life's gotta always be messing with me (you wanna see the light) Can't they chill and let me be free? (So do I) Can't I take away all this pain? (You wanna see the light) I try to every night, all in vain, in vain

Justice.

➣ I asked for a song to explain the central theme of your reading and I got "Freak on a Leash" by Korn. I get the feel that one of the main struggles of your life path is unfair judgment. People are quick to create a false narrative of you and run off with it.

➣ If you read my last PAC, “What is most alluring about you”, you may have chosen pile 2 or 3. With the seven of wands, you are constantly under attack.

➣ Take what resonates but I see a few scenarios. People may be quick to paint you as a bad person without getting to know you. Your public reputation was heavily influenced by rumors from people who intentionally wanted you to be disliked. People will take something small, blow it out of proportion, and try to impose it as a character flaw. Oh, you don’t eat the crust on your sandwich? How wasteful! There are starving kids out there, you’re so inconsiderate!! and then everyone else in the room who claims to not like you (but are truly your biggest fans) are oooing, ahhing, and egging that hating ass bitch on. 

➣ I’m seeing a bus. You may have been betrayed and thrown under the bus a few times before. This is the pile of my Lilith placements. Your power is your ability to garner attention, both good and bad. You attract a lot of envy. The ugliest emotion, in my opinion. It’s partners in crime with greed. 

➣ For some of you, I am getting the message that all of this underserved hate has sent you into a dark mental space and driven you to take an attempt on your life. And if you like my messages or my readings please believe me when I say this,

 I know you are meant for greatness. I picked up on your energy and you found this reading for a reason. Just like the Universe and everything within it, we go through cycles. And I know this is a long, painful cycle but it will come to an end and you will get out of this darkness. From the bottom of my heart, I feel your importance and I am happy you are here to share this moment with me. Keep swimming, I support you, the Universe supports you. The sun is rising and is offering you a new beginning.

➣ In this dark period in your life, the negative attention may have outweighed the good. I see a theme of being outcasted and isolated. Severe bullying. For some, even abuse. Like pile one, you have gone into hermit mode and isolated yourself from the unfair judgment of the world. 

➣ But head up muffin, the scales are balancing, and the wheel of judgment is turning in your favor. Following the wheel of fortune, you got the fucking emperor!!! You will come out of this on top. The people who kicked you while you were down will have to swallow their pride and kneel to shine your shoes while you sit rightfully on the throne. The public scrutiny you face needs to balance itself out karmically.

➣ Think Megan Thee Stallion. I won’t bring up any of her business, but if you've been keeping up with social media, there is a good chance you are well aware of it. That woman has gone through the unimaginable, one traumatic event following the other all while facing an obscene amount of public scrutiny. She had to go into solitary and off the internet to rebuild her life. But guess what??? MY GIRL STAYS ON TOP>>>>> After all the bullshit she endured, she’s coming out on the top of the charts, brand deals with major conglomerates, she is the people’s princess.

➣ That’s going to be you. You have dealt with a lot of injustice in your life, now you’re coming out of your “rehabilitation” and all of the people who spent the better half of their day attempting to tear you down will have to watch your rise like a phoenix and fucking weep.

➣ People were constantly taking from you , now the universe (whatever you want) is preparing to give you the power to replace what you have lost tenfold. Ace of wands, I see that life is handing you the metaphorical talking stick. The king stick. You are being blessed with a flame in your belly (activated solar plexus chakra) and the chance to completely reinvent yourself. 

➣ There is a lot of king and authority messages here, the ball is in your court. You are being released from the shackles of public perception and these next few months will be filled with inspiration and willpower to prove everybody wrong and showcase your strength.  I feel like a good chunk of this group will get chances to be in positions of authority or importance. 

➣ This is going to sound silly but I got this exaggerated imagery of a mean person calling you poor and ugly but the next year you drive past them in a Bugatti with their sugar boo in the passenger seat. HELLOOOO.

➣ With the lovers, I see you are coming in union with what is rightfully yours. In the grand scheme of cosmic law, you are owed good fortune and it is on its way. With the tower, I see an explosion and people fleeing. You’re going to pop out stronger than ever and that’s going to scare people cause whatever superiority they got from painting you as inferior is going to blow away and their true scummy nature is going to be seen. 

➣ After this, there may even be people who pretend to be your friends and claim they supported you all along. Have faith in your discernment. I have faith in your discernment. It will all be okay pookie.

➣ Advice: Just keep swimmin' my love. <3

"The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth."

✧ Pile Three ✧ (queen of wands, knight of pentacles, 6oC, page of pentacles, 10oW, 3oW, the hermit)

It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Awaken.

➣ Regardless if you’re a woman, a man, somewhere in between, or none of the above, you are approaching a newfound understanding of your sexuality. For some of you, it is a full-blown sexual awakening. 

➣ Some people here are realizing their sex appeal, others are coming to terms with their lack of sexual attraction, some are learning what they like in sex and what they’re attracted to. Yes bae, all of it; the whole spectrum of sexual exploration is here.

➣ There is an emphasis on attraction to yourself. You will see a huge shift in your physical appearance. Yes, your style will change but the main reason for this glow up is because you shifted the perception of yourself into a higher light. You’re allowing yourself to feel desirable and embracing the aspects of yourself you once shunned. 

➣You will carry yourself in a higher regard and this will open doors for you. Look into the mirror and give yourself a nice smack on the ass. Your self-esteem is sexy.

➣ Pile one is on a watery emotional self-love journey, this pile is all about fire and finding out where sexuality and passionate relations fit into your life. 5th house (flings, passions, hobbies), 8th house (sex and rebirth), 9th house (adventure, connecting with your soul tribe).

➣ I asked for a song to tie up this message in a cute little bow and I got the 639 HZ frequency. This is the frequency of love, radiation, and positive energy. It is the frequency of the heart. The heart chakra is opening significantly during this glow-up.

➣ You are opening yourself to adventure and sending a high vibe out into the ether. I see a sunflower and the queen of wands is decked out in bright yellow, you are stepping into the spotlight and attracting a lot of attention. I would say Venusian attention because the aura here is very romantic and collaborative. It's like the universe is spraying you with extremely magnetic pheromones and having opportunities run at you.

➣ You are going to get a lot of offers. Love offers, career offers, party invitations, you’re going to be involved with exclusive circles. You are realizing your self-worth and now you’re attracting things and people who also see value in you.

➣ This isn’t going to resonate with everyone, but I sense that for a few of you, there is going to be a reconnection with a past lover or a past friend from your childhood (or just the past in general). I also sense a theme of using your attractiveness and people’s attraction to you to your benefit. Somehow monetize your appeal. 

➣ It is like you finally released your ugly duckling mentality and you woke up and went, “WOAH, what can I do with this???” Lmao you discovered you’re an undercover member of the pretty privilege club.

➣ Yeah, with the page of pentacles and the ten of wands, I’m seeing an entire life path open up for you. Your passion and fiery energy will get you places, and you’ll go on adventures exploring your opportunities with that. Some of you will even become spicy content creators or do some risque sex work. Orrrrrr just venture into a career path you weren’t courageous enough to do before. 

➣ You’re a giant magnet energetically right now (I mean c’mon, 639 HZ???) you’re attracting a lot of romantic suitors. But watch out, they’re not all good suitors.

➣ I pulled another card and got Justice in reverse. Some people will try to get over on you. Also, the person on the justice card looked strangely untrustworthy when I flipped it over. Once again, practice your discernment.

➣ Your romantic and passionate life is taking off and it's going to be extremely exciting, especially if you are coming out of a period of stagnancy. However, with the 3 of wands and the hermit, the cards remind you to remain centered and plan bigger. Your passion, attractiveness, and sexuality will amount to more than hookups and shallow relationships if you invest in yourself wisely.

➣ You are unlocking an advantage you have in this lifetime. Open yourself to career endeavors, social networking, and creating a strong foundation for your talents and hobbies. Yes, date and have fun but don’t spend all of your energy in one place. Your attention and your energy are your greatest currencies.

➣ To expand on the hermit, I need to emphasize you are going to be getting a LOT of attention soon (I’m getting Sun-conjunct-Venus energy, is that in your natal chart or is there a transit with Venus right now or something?). You will receive more eyes on you than average and this might overwhelm you and push you into hermit mode.

➣ That is okay, let life flow. During those moments to yourself, dream big because you have the power to pull your dreams into your reality.  You will meet lifelong friends during this period. I am sensing a power trio for some of you. 

➣ Advice: To wrap up, we all know attractiveness is social currency, and you are coming into a great deal of social wealth baby. But please spend it wisely and do not lose yourself in the crowd. Keep up with your self-work and take introspective breaks away from people so you can figure out how to best utilize this awakening for you. 

➣ You look really good in red currently. Red hair. Red lips. Red clothes. Red jewelry. The color red is bringing you a lot of abundance. Okay bye. MUAH. <3

"I said mom, I am a rich man."

✧ Pile Four ✧ (page of swords, knight of cups, wheel of fortune, temperance, 7oP, the devil rev.)

Ascension.

➣ OMG I’m so sorry, I wrote a novel for the other piles but this one is going to be short. Maybe you were drawn to another pile mainly and this is your secondary pile. BUT IT’S SHORT BECAUSE ITS FUCKING AWESOME. 

➣ The song I channeled for you was named “Elniño Prodigo” and I want to say the artist is Love Record but I'm not too sure. This means child prodigy. When I was laying out your cards, I got this sense of anticipation and impatience. Theeeennn BOOM the wheel of fortune, temperance, and the seven of pentacles smack me in the face.

➣ Oh me oh my, you are chilling in the universe’s womb just BAKIN’ being prepped for a complete rebirth. You are a prodigy, you are not meant to live an ordinary life, you are being prepared for a unique journey. I know this is going to sound hard to believe because I feel like with this pile, a large portion of your life was spent in waiting.

➣ Do you feel like you are a late bloomer? If so, trust me, it is for a reason. Whatever you build in this lifetime will be built slowly and have a solid foundation because your legacy is meant to withstand the test of time and last long after you leave this Earth. This period you’ve spent waiting is you getting your ducks in a row and sowing your seeds for the next evolution of you. I said something like this in my last pac, if that's you, heyyyyyyy i’m glad your energy stuck around, i love it.

➣ Do you have Pisces or 12th House placements mixed with Saturn significance? Whatever this glow-up exactly holds for your future is a secret. It’s the universe’s divine surprise to you. I did not get any energy detailing exact events, just something big in the works behind the scenes is making its way to you. 

➣If you’re reading this pick a card there’s a good chance you’re spiritually attuned and can feel this cosmic shift happening. Something about your energy is so excited. I imagine a hyper dog being held back by a leash because it's not quite time yet.

➣ If you’re in a period where you’re not seeing any life progression and it's causing you anxiety, relax, you are on the right track and you are where you need to be. You have not wasted time, time really isn’t even fucking real. Everything is moving slowly for a reason. 

➣In this “boring” period you are meant to tap into your inner world and curate what you want your life to look like. Create vision boards, imagine your future hobbies, involve things that mentally stimulate you, keep the spark of curiosity in your life, and nurture your inner dreamer. 

➣ You are connecting with your sensitivity at this time, finding the sweet spot where your mind and heart meet, and letting it fuel your zeal for life. Get these thoughts on paper. Journal them, draw them, sing it, and call this energy into the 3D. Your life is about to have a complete 180. Maintain faith.

➣ You’re seeing a lot of synchronicities currently. Animal synchronicities and repeating numbers(111,444,222,1144,1414). You’ll find strangely personal messages in music and media. Maybe you’re seeing shapes repetitively pop up around you in your environment, like stars or eyes. 

➣ Patience is a life lesson for this pile, there is a lesson to be learned in the stillness of your life. You are mentally restless right now, slow your body down and try out parasympathetic regulation techniques to calm your racing thoughts. Go swimming, take a class, try out a new hobby. In this “womb” era, enjoy your last moments of stillness because your life turns up a notch. I’m not even getting rebirth, I’m getting BIRTH. No matter your age, your life is truly beginning in this new season.

➣ Advice: I see a lot of clouds. I see angel symbolism. You’re ascending. You’re shedding old skin, letting go of dead weight, and you’re growing wings, getting ready to experience life to the fullest. Maintain hope that your life will pick up pace and become exciting again. 

➣ Find peace in this waiting period. Listen to bird sounds!!! They are going to calm your mind and elevate you emotionally. You’re growing your wings and getting ready to take off like a bird, you should learn from the best. Okay, I love you, the universe loves you, MUAH <3.

"Your sim has gone stir-crazy!"

watching tumblr shit on my images in real time is just...

On a lighter note, I know some of these piles are heavy, I posted my first reading two days ago, and the support I received has brought so much joy into my life. I love doing this, if you like this me doing this, I'll do this forever. I am eternally grateful for all of you likes, reblogs, and comments <3

Also, some of these piles are connected, feel free to poke around and pick up on messages spread out for you. okay, I'm done. kisses! MUAH

[mistyorchid]

General Store

Old Man Logan x fem! reader

warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, fluff, established relationship, age gap, reader is 21+, some suggestive actions/comments, pet names (doll, baby). wc: 739

When you run out of your favorite ice cream, you know it's time to make a shopping trip to the closest general store. You smile, fondly remembering lazy Sundays with Logan. He'd never admit it, but the sweet taste of chocolate ice cream helped ease his nerves; Twilight Zone reruns were no joke.

Logan turns on the radio, switching through static until he hears the baritone crooning of Johnny Cash. Every time the truck hitches over a bump, Logan steadies you with a firm hand on your thigh. At least that's how he justified it inching closer to the hem of your skirt. His cocky smirk makes you playfully slap his arm, but you secretly love the way he made you blush, even after you'd been dating for months.

He pulls into the neglected parking lot and kills the ignition, lovingly staring at your profile as you move to unbuckle your seat belt. The universe had shown him mercy when you spontaneously came into his life. Your boundless grace and empathy made his house a home. You once gifted him handmade framed embroidery that read, "God bless our smelting plant."

Logan's thoughts are interrupted by the faint click of the passenger door unlocking. "Not on my watch, doll," he exhales, rushing out of the driver seat and jogging to the passenger door. You reach for his hand, cautiously stepping down from the truck. Logan knew you could open the door yourself, but he always upheld the dying art of chivalry.

"Thank you." You smile, stabilizing your descent by placing your left hand on his white beater. "Sure thing," Logan responds, knowing you just want to feel his broad chest.

A quaint bell rings as you enter the store, alerting the cashier of your presence. "Howdy, welcome in! Milk's half off today." he chimes. Logan doesn't miss the way the young man's eyes widen as you saunter ahead of him to the frozen aisle. Hell, he didn't blame him. You never wore a bra when it was this hot, instead opting for a lightweight tank top. The cool air blasting from the open freezer door made the hard outline of your nipples difficult to ignore.

"You want our usual or this new flavor?" You ask, prompting Logan to ignore the cashier's gaze. He lengthens his stride and stands over you, peering into the freezer. The carton you pointed out had an adorable illustration of a bunny as its mascot.

"Hmm . . ." Logan ponders, leaning into the frigid air to grab the carton. "It's cute, reminds me of you. I say strawberry."

You trace your bottom lip, pretending to be indecisive. "If you say so." A sweet blush creeps onto your face, subtle enough to be missed by anyone but Logan.

The cashier's eyes linger on your tank top as you both return to the front counter. You were too busy checking out other items in the store to notice.

"Good choice, we just got that flavor last week. Cash or card?" The young man redirects his attention to Logan, who he assumed was paying based on the fact that he was holding the ice cream and already had his wallet out.

"Do people out here really use card?" Logan asks, puzzled by his question. He remembered a time when he'd have to write a check to pay if he didn't have enough cash.

"My dad's the same way," the cashier chuckles, trying to establish some common ground with you. Logan's eyes narrow at his lame attempt to relate to his girl.

My dad. This prick thought you were his daughter.

He throws more than enough cash onto the counter before muttering, "Keep the change." Logan tried his best to finish the transaction without leaving three scratch marks over the young man's uneven stubble.

You notice that Logan is brooding as you link your arm through his, more than usual. The cashier's words had stunned him into an icy silence, clearly bothered by their implication.

Before you cross the threshold of the door, you pull the collar of Logan's beater and kiss him hard. He gasps into your mouth, fingers moving to glide through your hair. Your tongue darts along his upper lip, deepening the kiss.

A thin string of spit connects your lips as you slowly pull away. "Mmm, almost as sweet as this ice cream, baby," You tease, savoring the cashier's shocked expression as you both hear the doorbell ring.

I really appreciate all of the <3 Meet-Cute (and my blog in general) has been receiving lately. Since your comments have been so sweet, I thought I'd write a fluffy drabble for y'all. My asks & DMs are open. Thank you all for the support.

[iyohme]

and i know that you mean so well;

but i am not a vessel for your good intent!

("Tongues and Teeth," - The Crane Wives)

my serotonin got jetpack bursted into the stratosphere with this blurb by OP. Your brain is so juicy and moist and wrinkly OP. Godspeed. I'm not even into DC but the whole "Burnt out and neglected, and now a bunch of people driven by guilt guilt guilt want me back so they can feel less guilty?" just made the racoon in me rub its hands menacingly hoho

Just imagine not even living your best life; just a shadow in the lives of the illustrious Waynes, a ghost in a castle, visible only to the loyal servant and the occasional curious paparazzi who shrugs and looks away--after all, there was no mention of you in any occasion: must be the kid of in-house staff. How nice of Brucie Wayne to allow even the children of in-house staff the opportunity to study at such a high-end college! (The reporters chortle and snicker at your barely-passing marks, sighing at such a wasted opportunity. Oh well. And then they move on to the tabloid topic of the week, after the strutting socialites and the rich and the arrested Rogues.)

You gather things.

You gather pieces of a cracked dream, a single plastic teacup you had brought into the cavernous mansion the day you held Alfred's old, gnarled hand. Ears ringing and slippers still stained with your parent's blood as they were gunned down before your very eyes. You gather your things, what made you before you were "Wayne," so to say. Your mother's old cigarette box, smuggled from the crime scene, your one memento of the woman who you could not forget but never forgive.

A juxtaposition of love and hate, forever crucified. The image of the Virgin Mary inside the tin box seems to be a mockery of faith, across from her image lying cheap cigarettes.

You gather test papers, all barely passing and with more reds than blacks, and grind them up into strips with the shredder you had brought; just one time the black card Wayne had given you, and it left the bitterest, sourest aftertaste in your mouth. They burn so cozily on the school Bunsen burners, especially when sprayed with alcohol, immediately immolating like timelapse sparkler videos. You gather your name before the Incident, you cherish it, and you repeat the syllables in the dead of night, spilling past your mouth. Even if it was the name of a child-abusing monster, it was still yours, and it was still of use.

And use it, you would.

While they go and be a family, you work to begin yours.

You gather funds: it's easy to take on odd jobs when people do not suspect you. You tuck away that black card at the bottom of your study table drawers, forgotten there like scribbled-out pages of an essay, an unfinished drawing, and leftover candy wrappers. It's a bit-by-bit work, but you know the Waynes wouldn't even see it happening. Your brothers and sisters (an absurdly alien concept, as they don't even acknowledge you exist ninety-five percent of the time) are prodigies paraded around at every event. You are the unseen ghost flitting through their shadows.

Graduation comes and goes. It's laughably easy to falsify having lost your social security number and other documents--Gotham is that much of a shithole, you suppose. The man in the cowl notwithstanding. His efforts are admirable, but weak. Recidivism is common in this place, as if there were some sort of pull that incited the people in Gotham to cruelty, to madness.

It's absurdly Lovecraftian, in its own way.

You are not even living your best life, and yet you are free. Alfred knows; he always knows. If you are The Ghost, then the aged butler is a man one step between the doors of death, and he sees you every time you move. Your room is empty, and he raises an eyebrow at your satchel: all your items already stored elsewhere or given away.

("I suppose this was a long time coming, Little Master."

Tap tap tap. Footsteps on marble floors, setting sun.

You shrug. "Eh. The Waynes gave me a roof and education. It's all good."

You grunt. "Well, people change. Like you know, how kids being gifted stop being gifted when they grow older." You say, instead of 'Well, if a child doesn't get any praise or attention if they do good and probably even less if they were bad, why even bother?')

A pause. "Your academics were not so lackluster when you were younger."

You promise to try and stay in touch. (You crossed your fingers behind your back.) You leave, sunset on your face.

The nap you had in a dingy hotel with far too many odd stains and not enough locks you could put on was the soundest you've ever slept in years.

Freedom smells like summer air and the last rays of sun, followed by the cold blue hour.

It takes three months for an out-of-state college to accept you. It's far from Gotham. It has a dormitory. Excellent. While you were indeed a mediocre academic student, you had banked everything on band scholarships.

Who knew more than a hundred clarinet players had unclaimed scholarships yearly? Packing up your small life in bags, you take a train upwards to another state.

(Meanwhile, in Gotham, there is an odd sense of unease as Bruce Wayne stops by an inconspicuous door. It's relatively clean, as expected of his manor, but the worn out brass on the handle suggests that someone had lived there before. He opens the door. Steps in. A bed, a dresser, a study table. Bare bones.

The unease intensifies. But who?)

Someone had lived in here, yes.

[chelseeebe]

falling.

a/n: wow man, i truly am awful but i’ve been very ill and very busy and have seriously neglected writing so have a lil something i wrote to ease back into it! it’s a continuation of seven minutes in heaven and on my knees (for you) but is very much fluff and lovely<3

18+ mdni. smut. mentions of r being drunk but mostly just love and fluff<3

everybody knew.

or at least now they did.

there’s not much room for secrets when you’re drunk and clambering all over him in front of a room full of your friends, was there?

eddie’s never seen you so.. loose. the bottle of wine had ignited something within you, clearly. your fingers twisting into his shirt, sticky, gloss-covered lips attached to his neck.

he’s grateful that your leg is slung over his lap, hiding the uncomfortable rising in his pants, made worse by your constant fidgeting and the soft whispers into his ear.

it wasn’t as if you two were much of a secret anymore anyway, robin, nancy and vickie had all figured it out that day he answered your door in his boxers. and now at least most people had caught on.

“i need you eds,” you whisper sultrily, not a care for his poor growing boner. there are only so many dead puppies you can think of before it stops working, by the way.

“we can’t..” trust, he had already surveyed the house and decided that sneaking off would be highly risky, too much chance for interruption to make it worthwhile.

“we can,” you beg, practically growling into his ear, “let’s go home,” fingertips now dancing down his shirt, dangerously nearing the waistband of his jeans.

he blinks, turning his head to face yours, noses bumping against each other, “it’s not even ten.. we can’t leave yet,” he wouldn’t have sex with you like this anyway, too much pinot grigio coursing through your veins to make it right.

you huff, nostrils flaring in your tiny tantrum, “you’re so mean,” jutting your bottom lip out.

eddie’s eyes dart around the room, catching a few stray looks, people confused about your position or why you were practically straddling him of all people. “people are looking at us..” and the thing is, no matter how many times you could tell him that you wanted him, no matter how many times you showed him that you wanted him, he wouldn’t believe it.

“i don’t care,” you scoff, connecting your lips hastily, a new feat compared to the sly neck kisses you’d been giving prior.

it had never been about hiding for you, more so about keeping things just for you two. nobody else needed an opinion or opportunity to ruin things, that was it. but now, the longer you continued to hang out and enjoy each other’s company outside of fucking, the more he felt himself falling.

now, eddie reckons he was probably in love with you from the second you’d dragged him into that closet but now he’s pretty certain he is. it’s different now, a level of consideration there that wasn’t ever apparent before.

it had been solidified for him a couple weekends ago during a game of spin the bottle, when it had landed on you and then subsequently jason. eddie’s heart stopped beating until you swerved his mouth, landing a small peck on his cheek in place of a real kiss.

that was different.

“please can we go,” you beg, fisting the soft material of his shirt, keeping your lips lingering over his.

he clears his throat, and really, you should know him by now. you should know that an ounce of attention from you would result in a stiffy he couldn’t shake. his eyes fall to his crotch, “i can’t.. i can’t get up,” cheeks flushing a ruby red.

your eyes join his, peering down between your leg and his stomach, a grin spreading across your devilish face, “i can fix that,” tilting his chin upwards with your painted nail, “if we go home.”

his forehead knocks against yours, giving up on this nonexistent fight with you, “fine, give me.. five,” hoping he somewhat hide his indiscretion from your friend’s prying eyes.

he does eventually, get off the chair, craftily readjusting his pants as you gather your bag. robin’s head perks up, brows raised at the sight of you leaving already, “i’m gonna walk her home.. too much to drink i think..” wrapping an arm around your shoulder, guiding you through the party and out onto the street.

the front yard is littered with drunks, paying no mind to you and your unsteady feet.

you’re so loud, giggling as eddie attempts to rein you in, a tight grip on your arm while you wobble over the sidewalk.

“hey,” you pout, stopping in your tracks. fuck, he just wanted to get home, as much as he adored whatever antics you were up to, he was freezing his balls off and you’re plastered.

“what?” he replies softly because no matter how annoyed he was, he’d never take it out on you.

your eyes are hazy, glossed over and barely able to focus on him but they’re full of love, “all i want to do is kiss you,” lopsided grin growing bigger.

eddie just smiles because there are no words he could ever jumble together to reply to that. not the way you deserved anyway.

“can i?”

how could he say no?

with your eyes round and glittering in the moonlight, lips pouted perfectly.

“of course you can,” he laughs, hooking his arm around your shoulder, pausing just before your lips meet his, revelling in the moment.

you press your lips to his, a little sloppy but full of love, tender and soft. you smile as you pull back, gripping onto his leather jacket, “we can go home now,” smiling into the night.

eddie feels a little sick. he hopes to god that he’s right about this, that you feel the same way he does. all signs point to yes but how’s he to know without your confirmation?

-

he’s abruptly awoken when the bathroom door slams shut, a collection of unpleasant sounds come from the other side.

he’s not surprised you’re sick, in fact, he’d left a your trash can to the side of the bed last night, just in case.

see, eddie’s not really an early riser but he doesn’t mind being woken up this early when he’s being woken up by you. vomit or no vomit.

you emerge from the bathroom with a colossal pout and a minty breath. sliding back into bed with a small groan. “did i wake you?” you ask, nestling back into his side.

“mhm,” he hums, appreciating the warmth you bring, “i don’t mind, you okay?” he asks, sliding an arm around your shoulders.

“i am now,” smiling slightly. your hand creeps down, making him jump as your cold fingers rest on his stomach.

he watches with tired eyes, hoping this is going where he thinks it may. your hands, despite feeling frozen, are always soft, he adored the tender way in which they met his skin.

you hum, body vibrating against the side of his body, “go brush your teeth,” poking him lightly in the ribs.

“yes ma’am,” eddie practically leaps out of bed, following your orders in hopes that you were implying what he thought. scrubbing his teeth with such ferocity that the toothpaste ends up everywhere.

he’d clean it up later, he thought. too excited to jump back into bed with you to care too much.

you’re already smirking in the low light, propped up slightly by the pillows, holding the blanket open for his return, “hurry up, it’s cold.”

oh he obliges, flying to the bed in record speed, hovering above your waiting body, boyish grin plastered across his face. perhaps one day he wouldn’t almost die every time you suggested sex or flashed him that look.

that day was not today.

your lips latch onto his, hands already finding his sweatpants, delicate fingers hooking into the waistband as you tug them down. he’s already hard, hasn’t been able to program that out of his brain just yet.

eddie’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip, sliding inside and it’s this moment where he’s grateful you made him get up to brush his teeth.

your hand, still a little cold, wraps around his cock, eliciting a gasp in response, pulling him from your lips. “fuck, your hands are cold,” eddie laughs in your face, quickly forgetting the icy temperature when you start pumping your fist.

“you want me to stop?” you ask, smirking devilishly.

“fuck no,” he chuckles, burying his face in your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin. this gets you fired up, squeezing the base of his cock gently.

your head tilts back, allowing him more room to nibble and lick at your bare neck. he struggles to get your shorts down, grunting into your chest when your hips buck upwards against him.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, emerging from the curve of your neck to gaze down at you, his absolute favourite position.

you don’t reply, instead, your tongue pokes out, licking your lips in anticipation. your legs wrap around his back, pulling him in tighter. personal space was an after thought, he thinks you’d climb inside of his skin if you could.

this position is still fairly new to him, looking down at you pressed between the mattress and his body. sometimes he’d be smushed against your chest as you attacked his neck and other times it was more hasty and rushed.

but this- this time, he’s focussed on your face, lingering inches above as his hair falls down against your cheeks.

sliding between your slick folds, nudging inside as his teeth bite down onto his bottom lip, struggling to contain the moan gathering in his throat. he’d been here enough times to know how to move without your bed hitting the wall, it had become an art.

slow, steady strokes, making sure he was moving exactly the way you’d taught him. appreciating the way in which your lips parted and the soft, melodic noises that tumbled out of them.

and yeah, you guys have had sex. plenty of times in fact.

but this felt different somehow, something more.

there’s a lot of that happening lately and eddie’s still unsure about how it makes him feel or if he’s supposed to feel a certain way.

you’re in his hoodie, under his body, moaning his name. that had to mean something, right?

eddie’s hips collide with yours, groaning when your legs tighten around his waist, everything about this feels overwhelmingly intimate. your forehead pressed to his, gazing through hooded eyelids, rolling slightly with every thrust.

“hmm,” you groan, full of rasp, “just like that eds,” manicured nails digging into his shoulder blades, pinching slightly but only spurring him on.

it’s still early, the rest of your house definitely still sleeping, forcing him to swallow his moans. you’re touching yourself, arm threaded between your bodies, circling your clit.

it drives him crazy every time, he assumes that most men wouldn’t appreciate it, a lack of confidence in their abilities or whatever. but eddie loves it, loves that you can make yourself feel good too.

your eyelids flit, breathy moans at every move of his hips, he knows what this means. has learned every tell of your body, the way your mouth falls open and your mind seems to shut off.

“fuck,” you gasp, tightening your grip on his shoulders. moving against him in the final throws, the tip of his cock nestling against the sweet spot.

this is where eddie loses it a little, thrusts becoming sloppy as your fingers work at your clit. he can feel every part of you, squeezing around him and the soft pants that dance into his ear.

his forehead dips, pressed against yours as his senses overcome him, throwing him over the metaphorical edge. “uh shit,” he garbles, spurting his release into your quivering cunt.

you squeak underneath him, mouth agape as your legs shake around his waist, eyes squeezing shut as you cum. it’s fucking magical every single time, it could probably bring him back to life if it really came down to it.

“oh my god,” he breathes, brushing the hair from your forehead, still lingering above as you float down to earth.

your eyes peek open, a smile inching onto your face, once again holding onto his cheeks as you press a solitary kiss to his lips. this was his favourite part of it all, the aftermath.

it usually meant cuddles and chats about nothing. when you were your truest self. eddie wanted to live here for eternity, gazing at the stars in your eyes, happily listening to whatever ramblings you came out with.

the morning is quiet bar you both trying to catch your breath, he can feel your racing heartbeat against his chest and almost wants to say it. to admit to everything he had been feeling.

but you beat him to it. “i love you,” you beam, grinning away to yourself, seemingly unaware of what bomb you had just dropped.

eddie chokes on his spit, coughing and sputtering as he climbs off of your body. lying back on the mattress as his chest heaves. oh my god, he thinks he might be sick.

his head was already spinning, only made worse by your declaration of love. his senses are heightened, looking over at you with bewildered eyes.

“what did you just say?” begging for clarification.

really, the only possible explanation was that this was a dream and he’s about to be rudely awoken and find himself in his own bed, having none of the last six months happen.

“i said,” you smile, pulling yourself into his side, “i love you,” wriggling as you pull your shorts up, intertwining your legs as you do.

“i thought you said that,” eddie laughs deliriously, still frozen in shock. he’s in utter disbelief, just staring at your face in hopes that he’s not cruelly torn out of this moment and it is real.

you tut, pouting slightly, “do you maybe wanna say it back?”

“i do,” he rushes, “i mean, of course i do- love you, i mean,” stumbling over his words, his heart is pounding out of his chest, “i love you too, is what i’m trying to say,” cringing at his severe lack of nonchalance.

even with your extensive training and advice, he’s truly still that weird little virgin boy, still head over heels for you. that’d never change,

“good,” you twinkle, nestling back into his side, arm thrown over his stomach, “you scared me for a minute there.”

he doesn’t understand how you weren’t already well aware that he infatuated with you, he had thought it had been plenty obvious. the man near enough started drooling when you’d touch him for christ’s sake.

“i thought you knew,” shrugging slightly, “i don’t exactly hide it.”

your shoulders shake as you laugh, slightly jittery and still exuberant from your session, “how was i supposed to know you weren’t faking it?”

eddie’s brows thread together, perplexed at your assumption, “you’re the first girl i’ve ever really liked.. let alone loved, i don’t even know how to fake it.”

“shut up,” shaking your head, “you used to like that girl..” clicking your fingers together, “the one with the hair.. whatever her name was.”

“what? you mean carly?”

carly was a friend, helping him pass his marketing class. he had maybe gotten the feeling that she liked him but nothing ever came of it. she wasn’t his type and besides, he’d had his eye on someone else anyway.

“carly! yeah.. you were obsessed i swear, i used to be so pissed off.”

woah. what?

“i didn’t like her.. not like that,” he didn’t, in fact, eddie’s always had a bit of a soft spot for you in reality, “you were pissed off?” he teases, pulling you in tighter.

he felt like he could now, like everything had been established and this was it. you were together. you loved each other.

you give him an over dramatic sigh, “yes i was pissed off,” settling your head on his chest, “i thought you liked her and not me,” he can feel your eyelids flutter shut against his skin, “i’m glad you didn’t though.”

eddie laughs, moving your body as he shakes. he can’t help himself. you were pissed off at the thought of him liking someone else. you. it’s almost nonsensical.

footsteps echo through the hall, stopping outside your door alongside a chorus of whispers. you groan quietly before they pound on the door, obviously eager to collect the gossip.

“what?” you call out, not moving from your position. maybe before you would’ve sprung apart, trying to cover up the obvious but now you embraced it.

robin, nancy and vickie pour into your room, sly smiles on their faces. it’s fairly obvious what had just gone down in here. his cheeks were still blood-red, your leg thrown over his, entangled in the blanket as one.

“so,” robin smiles, pursing her lips, “you have a good night?” alluding to your very public displays of affection.

“i had a fantastic night, thank you,” you grin, refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room, eddie respected the fuck out of that.

“mm i’m sure,” robin quips, raising her brows before perching on the end of your bed, “you remember anything from last night?” she asks curiously, cocking her head to the side.

you bite down onto your lower lip before answering, “i may have been informed,” rolling your eyes slightly. the other two girls giggle in unison.

“so it’s official?” robin asks outright, not wasting any time. she’d never been one to beat around the bush, jury’s still out on whether it’s a pro or a con.

your shoulders shrug, eyes trailing to eddie, “i’d say so,” smiling knowingly.

they had no idea what had actually just occurred, ignorant to the declaration of love that had happened just moments before they burst in. he knows you’ll probably tell them the second he’s gone but for now he appreciates the secrecy of it all.

a moment only meant for the two of you.

robin grabs onto your ankle, shaking it as she roars excitedly, “i fuckin’ knew it,” beaming with a certain smugness.

your eyes roll back again, “have you got what you wanted now? can i sleep this hangover off without anymore interference?” your words are sharp but hold a tone of humour.

“yes yes, you can go back to being degenerate perverts now,” robin laughs, standing from the bed, vickie guides her girlfriend out of the room with a raise of the brows.

nancy lingers, “we’re going for breakfast in a little while, if you two wanna come,” flashing her tightlipped smile before following after robin and vickie.

the door clicks shut and eddie lets out a sly sigh of relief. they were his friends too, he just wasn’t a fan of being interrogated by them when he’s practically naked and still recovering from your confession of love.

“i’m sorry,” you apologise for their abruptness though it’s unneeded.

eddie just smiles, relishing this moment. you’re lying on his chest, his girlfriend, you love him and he loves you and that’s all there is to it.

“i love you, i really really love you.”

[perlelune]

Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | iv.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

“Oh, do you mind if we take a little break?” Clemensia asks almost as soon as you’ve begun working on the task she gave you. You blink, a little confused as your gaze roams across the table. There’s still so much to do. You’re not sure if the girls are just that slow but it’s clear that it will take at least a few hours to get all of it done.

But Clemensia is in charge of the ball committee. You don’t picture yourself telling her what to do or how to do it. After all, you are an outsider. A foreign element infiltrating their ecosystem. You have to play by their rules.

If they want to take a break, who are you to argue with that?

You begin to rise.

“Oh, a break, sure…”

Clemensia’s lips pinch as you try to follow them. “It’s just that…we’ve been doing this for so long, all by ourselves. I even broke a nail.” She pouts, showing you her hands. “But it needs to be finished today.” She nibbles her bottom lip and sighs, eyes pleading yours. “If no one stays behind…”

You mull it over. While you’re not thrilled over the idea of working on the decorations by yourself, you did just get here. You suppose you could hold the fort while they stretch their legs…or whatever Clemensia and her friends like to do when they hang out.

“I guess I could stay,” you concede.

Clemensia flashes you a broad grin.

“You’re so sweet,” she chimes. “Thank you. We won’t be long, promise. Ten minutes tops.”

You shrug and return to your chair. Ten minutes. That sounds reasonable. You pick up the scissors and start cutting more of the tree shapes. 

“No problem.”

But one issue arises. 

The promised ten minutes expand into thirty. Then an hour. Then two. At first, you don’t let your mind dissect it too hard. It’s a stupid thing to overthink, isn’t it? A silly thing to chop into pieces until your mind bleeds with doubt and insecurity. You surmise it was more of an approximation. People do that all the time, say something while meaning another. At least you believe they do. Besides, you find ways to keep yourself busy, even getting started on the sparkly globes lying on the side of the room. You figure out how to use most of the tools on your own and get wrapped in your own bubble of quietness. 

Silence is a familiar companion, the one constant that never judged you, never asked for more of you. In your Silence, you get to be you. Nothing more; nothing less. So you let yourself sink in its warm, snug embrace.

Still, somewhere in the back of your mind, thoughts meander passively… What is taking them so long? You steal a glance outside the window. Orange and purple hues are already bleeding into the sky, a sign of the evening nearing its end. 

You retrieve your pocket watch from inside your skirt. A frown wrinkles your brow. At a time like this, you would usually be home, curled up with Walter on your bed as you go over your notes for the week. It often takes you hours just to decipher the course transcripts. 

“Wow, you did such a great job,” Clemensia whistles from behind you. 

You gasp and whirl. All smiles, the girls fill your sight.

They approach the table and examine some of the decorations you put together on your own. Realization sweeps through you as the fog of your thoughts clear. It didn’t hit you before, not until you absorbed the current state of the crafts table, brimming with the results of your solitary labor. You’ve been busy. Spinning crystal balls, pine cones, silvery garlands and a heap of snowflakes meant to hang on the walls and ceiling. Clemensia admires your handiwork, seemingly impressed. 

A little peeved, you point out, “I mean…had you guys even started? Most of the decorations needed to be cut, glued or assembled…”

“I have delicate hands,” Livia sighs, examining her manicured nails. 

“I’m very slow, sorry,” Ivy says apologetically.

Your frown deepens. Was this whole thing a setup? You sacrificed precious time to be here and you shudder to think the entire purpose of your presence is some kind of childish prank. 

Coriolanus’ words echo in your mind. He argued the girls weren’t like that and that they left the immature tricks back at the Academy. You truly want to believe that none of this is designed to embarrass you, that perhaps, again, all of this is in your head. But your aching fingers, sore from doing crafts most of the afternoon, suggestotherwise.

Unleashing a sigh, you gather your satchel and head towards the exit. 

Clemensia obstructs your path, holding up her hands in apology. 

“I know we should have been back earlier. I’m so sorry. We ran into the Dean and it turned into a whole thing.” She seizes your hands, remorse twisting her pretty features. “I feel so horrible. I invited you so we could do it together as friends.”

Your shoulders slump. As you soak in the look of genuine contrition on her face, doubts lurk inside you. Your confidence about being the victim of some prank wavers. Perhaps, you overreacted. Incidents happen. Besides, the chances of you joining Clemmie’s committee are slim, as you’re already swamped with assignments. A promise was made and you kept it. But this likely will be a one time thing. School dances are at the bottom of your priority list right now.

So you discard it all with a wave of your hand and a contrived smile.

“It’s okay. No apology needed. It’s not your fault.” You note how much darker it’s gotten outside. “I should go back home though. It’s already so late-”

Clemensia stops you again, her hand tightening around yours as she offers excitedly, “Wait, you should come to game night at Liv’s.”

“What?” Livia snickers. Clemensia shoots her a withering glare and the blonde clears her throat, correcting herself, “I mean…yeah, you totally should come.”

You fidget and adjust the strap of your satchel. You may have heard whispers of those game nights. Mystique surrounds them as only a few chosen people are invited to attend. You, of course, were never invited. And it isn’t hard to gather how Livia feels about you coming from her reaction. Why force your way into places where you aren’t wanted?

“I’m already behind on my revising for the day. If I don’t go over my Molecular-”

“Boring,” Ivy sings sarcastically.

“Don’t be mean, Ivy,” Clemensia scolds, elbowing her in the rib.

Clemensia tilts her head, her tone turning beseeching.

“Please…I really want to get to know you better.” She huffs out a long breath as she seems to sense your hesitation. The brunette leans closer, hands clutching your forearms. Sympathy twinkles in her onyx orbs. “You know, I used to be a lot like you. Always striving to be the best at everything I do.” A hollow giggle slips through her lips. “It’s how I got in trouble with your mother actually…I wanted to win so badly and she decided to teach me a lesson.” Sadness pinches her delicate features. “But by always striving for greatness, you miss out on life. I learnt that during the Games...”

“...Surviving isn’t living.”

She studies you before saying, “And it’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Surviving.”

Eyes on the ground, you chew on your lip. You never imagined someone like Clemensia Dovecote - the most beautiful, popular girl at the University - could feel this way…let alone relate to you.

“Clemmie…”

She hunkers a little so your eyes meet.

“Come on, I really want to make up for today.” She laughs. “Show you I’m not a bitch.”

“I don’t think you’re a bitch,” you say.

She places her palm on your cheek. “See? You’re so nice. That’s why I want us to be friends.” She bends over your ear, the words she mutters almost too quiet to be heard, “I can barely stand those two on most days, but appearances must be kept.”

Your gaze swings upward, shock pulsing through you.

She beams at you. “It’ll be an intimate gathering of just a select group, close friends. We play cards, chat, and have a few drinks. That’s it.”

Your forehead creases.

“I don’t drink.”

Squeezing your shoulders, she assures you, “Then I’ll make sure not a drop of alcohol passes your lips. Promise.”

“It’s casual, I swear. You can even leave early if you want.” 

This grabs your attention, as you aren’t sure you’ll make it through the night without craving to return to the safe, familiarity of your apartment. The potential for escape makes the offer far more enticing.

Obviously, Clemensia cares about you showing up. While you don’t fully grasp why, you also never had anyone go out of their way to spend time with you. During the Academy days, everyone avoided you like the plague, either finding you odd or fearing you were as terrifying as your mother. The University doesn’t seem much different so far, groups having already formed from previous camaraderie. Bonds that were forged years ago and cemented over time while you endured in the back of the class. The forgotten one. And you always figured it is the most you can aspire for. Being ignored and left alone.

Until now.

“Really?”

Clemensia’s smile widens.

“Yes. You can stay as long as you want and leave.”

“I don’t have anything to wear to a party,” you muse, pursing your lips. Your tiny, limited wardrobe has always prioritized function over fashion. There are your Academy uniforms, a few loose, unflattering clothes you rotate between. A single formal dress more suited for a funeral than a game night. Nothing impressive because you never had anyone to impress.

You also have no sense of fashion, the trends shifting too quickly for you to keep up. So you’ve stopped trying to. 

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out,” she chimes. “The girls and I always get ready at each other’s house anyway. And you’re one of the girls now.”

You peer down at you and Clemensia’s entwined hands. One of the girls. No one’s ever spoken about you that way. As if your mere presence made something better, uplifting it instead of leading it to its ruin. As if you were solid, more than a wisp of air, a waste of breath. As if you mattered. So, despite the sizzling weight of Livia’s blue eyes on you, you smile back at Clemmie and give a bashful nod.

Your eyes feast on every detail of Clemensia’s living room as you enter her home. Her parents’ apartment is every bit as large and opulent as you imagined. Every exquisite detail screams wealth. The unabashed, showy kind that stoked the embers of bitter unfairness in the Districts, leading the Capitol to where it is today. A city risen from the ashes. Your attention lingers on the expensive artwork exposed in glass cabinets. A lot of it appears to be memorabilia from before the war. You’re willing to bet the combined value of every overpriced trinket in the house could feed an entire District. Paintings of Clemmie’s illustrious ancestors hang over the damask walls, their stern stares seeming to follow you. Almost as if they were ready to leap from the eroded gilded frames and berate you for being an intruder in their family home.

Clemensia tugs you along.

“What are you dawdling for? Come on,” she urges. 

You trail behind her as she takes you to her bedroom. You smile when you see it. The somber, tasteful hues are so very her. The hinges of her wardrobe whine as she opens the large, wooden doors. A vertiginous row of clothes crowd your sight. You gawk, a little amazed but also slightly terrified. Who needs this many clothes? A sour expression scrunches her features.

“I know,” she sighs, placing a hand on her hip. “This is a little embarrassing. Most of these are soo last season.”

You tilt your head at her dizzying collection of shoes, clothes, accessories…the kind a legion of girls would kill for.

“Right,” you blindly agree. Nevermind you can’t even tell the difference. You glance around. “Shouldn’t Livia and Ivy be here too?”

Her brow twitches as she sits on her massive canopy bed. She pats the spot next to her and you awkwardly plop down. The plush silk and soft mattress dip under your weight.

“We decided to meet later,” she reveals. She pauses, a heavy sigh fluttering through her painted red lips before adding, “Besides, I told them to be nicer to you and they got upset and pretended not to know what I was talking about.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

She waves her manicured hand dismissively.

“No, don’t be. This isn’t your fault.” Clemensia licks her lips, her face etched with reflection, as if she were assessing the weight of her words before releasing them. Her hand settles on your arm.

“Look, here’s the thing. Livia’s had a crush on Coriolanus since he returned and they had a sort of fling.” Your mouth drops open. This is news to you. You didn’t catch any hint of lingering longing between the two back at their lunch table. But now that you’re mulling it over, perhaps…Perhaps, Livia’s eyes kept seeking Coriolanus’, while his treaded their own path, never crossing hers. “Things were going pretty well...for a little while. But then, you came along.”

Your brows furrow. “What does this have to do with anything?”

Clemensia’s bell-like laughter resonates in the room.

“God, you’re a sweet thing…just like Snow said.” She beams at you. “Don’t worry. Liv will get over it. She’s all bark and no bite, trust me.”

Her attention travels to the dark fabric peeking from your bag.

“What’s that?” she asks, pulling out the garment.

“The only dress I have.”

She inspects it with a displeased frown.

“Were you planning on wearing this?” She shakes her head as your mouth clamps shut. “Oh, this will not do.”

She takes your hand and drags you to her wardrobe. Brow wrinkled in concentration, she rummages through a numberless heap of garments.

“I have some clothes that my cousin left,” she explains while frantically searching. After a while, victory flares in her orbs. She unhooks a sleek, crimson dress with a tight bodice and flowing sleeves from a hanger. She holds it against your body, chiming, “She’s about your size so they should fit you.” 

“I can’t accept this, Clemmie.”

You attempt to push her hands away but the brunette shoves it in your arms, insisting on you at least trying it on. You press the soft fabric between your fingers. It’s more revealing and form-fitting than you’re used to. You gather it would cling to your body like a second skin…one you aren’t used to wearing. Still, you must admit that it’s a lovely dress. One that could look good even on you. Temptation claws at your resolve, digging deeper and deeper grooves, right into every insecurity you ever had. That thing other girls had that always eluded you. That little secret you were never privy to. The key to that door that never opened. The dress is the key. And you find yourself unable to resist turning the lock to find out what secrets lie beyond that mysterious door.

Beneath Clemmie’s eager stare, you remove your clothes and slip on the dress.

Smug satisfaction hovers on her lips as you peer at your reflection. Words fizzle out on your tongue. You are looking at a complete stranger.

Clemmie rests her chin on your shoulder. “See? I knew it.”

She then has you sit at her vanity to help you do your makeup. Do your makeup…The words sound alien even in the private confines of your thoughts.

As she draws a neat black line over your eyelids, she says, “It hasn’t been long since makeup’s returned to the Capitol again. It used to be near impossible to find.” When she’s done, she turns you towards the vanity mirror. “Those colors will bring out your eye shape and color.”

The air leaves your lungs in a quick rush. You lean closer to the mirror, once again in disbelief that you are truly looking at your own face.

Fingers twisting the delicate fabric of the dress, you pivot to Clemmie.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you blurt out.

Her eyes widen briefly before her expression softens.

“You remind me of me.”

Confusion surges through you. There is an ocean of glaring differences between you and Clemmie, one you couldn’t swim through if you tried. 

“What?”

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this confident.”

Your brows knit, Clemmie’s statement making little sense. If confidence wore a face and had a name, it’d be Clemensia Dovecote’s.

Gripping your shoulders, she turns your focus back onto your dolled-up appearance.

“Alright. Look in the mirror, what do you see?”

You blink. You see a girl playing dress-up, pretending, but you don’t utter those words aloud. They sound lame, even in your own head.

“Nothing,” you tritely respond, dipping your head.

She lifts your chin, moving her head to disagree.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes twinkle. “I see infinite potential. So stop selling yourself short.” Covering her mouth, she laughs. “His jaw is going to drop.”

“Whose jaw?”

She smirks at you. “You know whose jaw.”

Heat sneaks inside your face.

You fidget in the chair. It’s not like what he thinks matters, right? He is no one to you, just that boy with the unsettling blue stare who won’t leave you be for some strange reason. 

So why is there a tiny shiver of excitement coursing through your veins when the thought of him seeing you like that permeates your brain?

A vigorous gust of common sense sweeps away your wayward musings. 

You don’t care what he thinks. Of course you don’t.

“I-It’s not really my style,” you stammer as you get to your feet.

The sparkle in her onyx orbs doesn’t waver.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have a style yet…so how would you even know?”

“Shouldn’t we be at Livia’s already?” you ask, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.

She considers you as if you were the most endearing thing in the world. She grabs your hands. “Here’s another rule. Never be on time for anything.” A haughty smirk creeps upon her red lips. “Make them wait for you, not the other way around.” She cocks her head. “One of the things about confidence is knowing that you are the sun, and standing in your orbit is a rare privilege.” She scoffs, “People should feel lucky you even bothered showing up.”

 She approaches you and touches up parts of your hair, visibly elated with the result.

“Perfect,” she trills. “Like I said…potential.”

She herself finishes getting ready. As you absently meander about her room, the doorbell chimes. 

Clemmie pauses as she applies powder on her face. She sets aside her makeup tools and escorts you to the lobby, arm threaded with yours.

“Must be our chauffeur,” she states.

Your eyes round. “You have a chauffeur?”

She cloisters herself in cryptic silence, humming as she drags you along.

When the brunette swings the door open, a towering, familiar figure darkening her doorway, time hangs still for a few seconds.

Your mouth opens wide enough to catch flies.

A smug smile unfurls on his lips.

“Angel,” he greets, gaze locking with yours as he completely ignores Clemmie.

Her sharp irritated tone shatters the spell.

“You’re late, Snow.”

Coriolanus snickers. 

“As if you’re ever on time.”

You trail behind Clemmie as she and Coriolanus keep bantering, his presence still swaddling you in sheer shock. When she tries to take the passenger seat, he drapes a placating hand over hers.

She rolls her eyes and begrudgingly heads to the back of the car.

He opens the car door for you. Recalling the fruitlessness of arguing with him, you climb into the seat. Still, saying you feel awkward riding in the front while the brunette is sulking in the backseat would be a massive understatement.

Few words can accurately describe how peculiar all of this is for you.

“You look surprised,” Coriolanus notes as he takes his own seat and slams the door shut. Your heart misses a beat when his hot breath caresses your earshell. “I did say I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

You look down at your lap. Breathing is laborious, the air in the vehicle coated with the lingering smell of his pricey cologne. You are literally choking on Coriolanus Snow with every breath you take.

“Will you just drive, Snow?” Clemmie snaps, crossing her arms.

“Relax. Patience is a virtue,” he says, not sparing her a glance, zeroing in on you instead. The drumming of your heart swells to an uproar in your ears when he reaches across your body. You hold still while he ties your seatbelt for you. Blue eyes rake over your form in brazen appraisal, his deep voice lowering. “And good things come to those who wait.”

[themultifanshipper]

carcar smut 🙏🏻🙏🏻

PS- I LOVE your writing 😭

Really, what did Carlos expect?

He crashed into Oscar during a race, and now he was going to fucking suffer.

Warnings: smut, bottom carlos, face fucking, fucking without lube, hate sex, spit, cum (a lot of it), ruined orgasm, slight angst ?, oscar's a dick in this one guys

Oscar couldn't help admire how pretty Carlos was.

How fucking beautiful he was, crying for cock, cheeks stained with tears.

How his long eyelashes framed his doe eyes.

And those lips, they were so soft and tender, especially when they were wrapped around his thick cock whenever Oscar thrusted into the wet heat of his mouth mercilessly.

When Oscar pulled out briefly, Carlos would cry out “I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” as his voice cracked from the abuse.

And Oscar would reply with the nastiest tone, “You're about to be”, and he'd tighten his grip on the Spaniards hair to drive his hips in even harder and deeper until Carlos' throat was raw and used.

There would be a puddle on the floor of drool and precum, the latter coming from Carlos' untouched cock that twitched every time Oscar would slap him across the face for accidentally grazing him with his teeth.

But today? Today Oscar skipped the throat fucking entirely.

He didn't just want to humiliate Carlos, he wanted to ruin him.

He wanted to hear the man scream his name, and for other people to hear how desperate he was for Oscar's cock.

So when Oscar walked into Carlos' drivers room, the older man was naked and waiting patiently, already bruised knees firmly planted on the carpeted floor.

When Oscar got to his level, after leaving the door open just a crack, he slapped the man across the face and hissed angrily.

“Get up!”

Carlos was confused but he complied eagerly, standing up on shaky legs before being roughly turned around and pushed towards the couch.

Oscar manhandled him onto his knees on the cushions and bent him over the back of it, pressing his face into the wall so that he couldn't move.

This was a first. Oscar had never done anything more than make him swallow his cum after a rough race, so Carlos was starting to panic slightly at the vulnerable position he was currently in.

A loud smack echoed around the small room, and Carlos gasped at the pain blooming on his left asscheek.

He had never been seriously spanked before, and the burning sensation was just adding to the excitement of how new this was.

Then Oscar went for the right cheek, even harder than before, and Carlos moaned louder at the pain, cock twitching between his legs.

“You're fucking enjoying this aren't you?” Oscar snarled and trailed a finger along Carlos' cock, across his balls, up his perineum and stopped right on the older man's puckered rim.

“Let's see how much you enjoy me making you scream like a slut on my cock”

Oscar spat straight on his twitching hole, and spread the wetness around with his finger.

Carlos was shaking with need and anticipation, face still pressed into the wall painfully as he was forced to take the two fingers Oscar decided to push into him.

It was slightly too dry, but not unbearable as Oscar gave an experimental thrust.

He deemed it satisfactory and wasted to time hooking his fingers in search of Carlos' prostate.

He knew immediately when he found it.

Carlos' body jolted and he let out a half moan, half scream that would definitely alert anyone who was outside to what was happening.

Oscar didn't relent, he shoved his fingers into that spot repeatedly, and Carlos couldn't breathe with the intensity of the pleasure he was experiencing.

It was his first time feeling anything like this, waves of white hot pleasure rolling over his body every time Oscar prodded at that spot.

Spots danced in his vision as it neared it's peak, and the couch was already ruined with how much precum was leaking from his poor neglected cock.

“I'm- I’m gonna...” Carlos was whining, writhing against the sofa, his body completely surrendering to Oscar.

But just as fast as it was given, the pleasure was ripped away by Oscar as he withdrew his fingers and wiped his hand on the back of Carlos' thigh.

Oscar's plan was to leave then and there, leave Carlos high and dry, leaking and exposed and desperate.

But that plan went to shit when A) he noticed Carlos' previously virgin hole was almost gaping from only two fingers, and B) he heard Carlos' voice cracking as he sobbed out pleas for more.

“I'll do anything, please. Please I need to come so much-“

Drool was running down his chin and the wall where he was pressed against it.

“Oscar, please!” he cried out and Oscar caved.

He was only a man, and there was an eager hole in front of him.

He manhandled Carlos so he was on the couch with his face shoved into the pillows and his ass up in the air.

“Don't get used to this. Next time I won't be so fucking generous”

Carlos whined, his knuckles white from gripping the cushions as he rambled.

“Yes! Yes thank you! Fuck- thank- Ahhh!”

He yelped as Oscar spanked him once, to get him to shut the fuck up.

“Beg for it.” He snapped. “Beg for my cock or you're not getting it”

Carlos huffed out another sob before complying.

“Please Oscar. Give me your cock. I want it so bad. I need you to make me come, please, please, please!”

Oscar held out his hand next to Carlos' face.

“You'd better give me something to work with if you don't want it to hurt too much”

Carlos didn't hesitate as he gathered up as much spit as he could and spat in Oscar's hand.

He slicked himself up and spread Carlos cheeks to let a line of spit drip down and catch on his twitching hole.

He lined himself up and chuckled darkly.

“Any last words before I take your virginity?”

Carlos squirmed.

“Please” he whined pathetically.

“Slut” and with that he thrust inside as hard as he dared without causing any actual damage.

Carlos moaned so loud the whole building probably heard him, given that the door was still slightly open.

When Oscar drove into him a second time, much harder, Carlos let out a slightly more panicked moan.

“I'm coming!” he squealed on the third thrust, choking on a breath and tensing up as the pleasure overwhelmed him, and Oscar was so shocked that he stopped dead, ruining the man's pleasure to observe the tremors travel through Carlos' body.

“Nooo!” Carlos wailed, his ruined orgasm quickly fading as he writhed around trying to fuck himself back on Oscar's cock.

But the hold Oscar had on his hips had tightened so much that it was impossible to move and Carlos cried harder out of frustration.

“Fuck, that was-“ Oscar was out of breath despite not having done much and his brain took a second to reboot and realise what he'd done.

“Fuck, Carlos, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to stop I-”

He pulled out carefully and turned the Spaniard over, unfortunately laying him down on the big puddle of his cum that had undoubtedly ruined the poor couch.

His chest was heaving and his whole body was clenching and unclenching painfully.

Oscar ran his hands soothingly over the older man's body, rubbing over his thighs and up his stomach to his chest, and back down again.

Once Carlos had regained control of his breathing he looked down, frowning, and Oscar followed his line of sight.

Carlos was half hard, and Oscar's hand twitched with the odd urge to wrap his hand around Carlos' cock to get him all the way hard again.

“I- I think I can uhh...” Carlos stuttered and blushed at the sight of Oscar's own cock laying beside it, still hard and leaking onto the other man's hip “I can go again... if you want”

He gulped and Oscar stared, evaluating whether there was a chance that the older man had somehow got a concussion.

“Go again?”

Carlos’ hand tugged at his own cock a couple of times and he tipped his head back, biting his lip and groaning as his cock was touched for the first time since Oscar had walked in the room.

Oscar throbbed at the sight of Carlos so pliable and submissive under him.

“Please Oscar. I need to know how a proper orgasm feels like... like that. I need you to fuck me properly.” He looked straight into Oscar's eyes with an air of defiance.

“Or are you incapable of doing that?”

Electricity crackled as the tension between them rose again and Oscar growled, slapping Carlos' hand away from his cock before grabbing his legs and hooking them over his shoulders, jostling the older man into a folded position.

“Say that again, I dare you” he positioned his tip at Carlos' entrance and popped it in.

“Can you even make me come again or are you too-“

He never got to finish his sentence.

Oscar thrust inside in one go, this time starting a bruising pace as he rolled his hips, reaching as deep as he could and Carlos’ voice gave out as he screamedain pleasure.

Oscar leaned down, lips hovering next to his ear.

“Not so mouthy now that I'm actually fucking you dumb now, are you?” he snarled and picked up the pace, aiming straight at Carlos' prostate again.

The room was filled with Carlos' moans, his back arched almost painfully and he scratched down Oscar's back.

He couldn't have that. If one of them was going to be marked, it sure as hell wasn't going to be him.

He took both Carlos' wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head, then started mouthing over his pecs trailing his lips over the tanned skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

He settled around a nipple, sucking harshly and flicking his tongue over it until Carlos was gasping and writhing under him.

He let it go with a pop, doing the same thing to the other one, driving Carlos closer to another orgasm by the second.

When he bit down on the supple flesh, Carlos keened and threw his head back, arching towards the onslaught of Oscar's mouth.

Oscar chuckled and went slightly higher to sink his teeth into the man's shoulder, making Carlos hiss.

When he bit into Carlos' exposed neck and sucked a bruise into it, that's when Carlos started whining.

“Mierda! Fuck! Fuck Oscar.... I'm gonna come! Make me come, harder Oscar! I'm gonna cum again!”

Oscar slammed into him even harder and wrapped a hand around his neglected cock, jerking him off at the same pace.

“Of course you are, because you're an insatiable whore.”

Carlos' body trembled with pleasure as he toppled over the edge and painted his chest and Oscar's hand with streaks of white.

“And I'm going to fill you up with my cum so you’ll remember who makes you fold like a slut in heat every time you fuck up”

His hips stuttered as he came inside Carlos' pulsing heat, not stopping until they were both whining in overstimulation.

He pulled out unceremoniously, wiped his hand on the couch and tucked himself back in his pants before taking in the scene.

Carlos laying in a puddle of his own cum, covered in more of it, and his loose hole was leaking steadily onto the cushions.

A picture of absolute debauchery.

He turned on his heel, ready to leave when he spotted the door...

Not to mention the bite marks adorning his chest and shoulders, and the big bruise on his neck that he knew would be impossible to cover up.

His eyes lingered for only a second on the bruise forming on Carlos' cheekbone where he'd been pressed against the wall.

“Oh and by the way, I left the door open, so your entire team knows how much of a slut you are for my cock”

And with that he left, not even looking back to check that Carlos had heard him, and leaving the door ajar on his way out.

The looks he got from the Ferrari employees were glorious as he made his way out.

Their eyes were full of awe as they realised who had been in Carlos' room. Some were dissaproving, but they were nothing compared to looks Carlos was robably going to get...

He wore those looks like a badge of honour. It didn't matter what happened out on track, which team came out on top, which driver emerged victorious.

The secret was out. Carlos is, was and always will be, his bitch.

[secretress]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.❞

What do you have to let go of in order to achieve your dream life?

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Pac summary !

𓆣 Detailed.

𓆣 What do you have to let go?

𓆣 How has it been affecting you?

𓆣 How do you let go?

Moodboard | Divider

Pile I.

(Trigger warning: faint mentions of su!cide).

What do you have to let go?

X of cups reversed.

Your pile is slightly tricky since this is a general reading, though my intuition tells me you must let go of the relationship you have with your future and past selves. You truly believe your past self was and is right about everything. You follow their mentality: thoughts, beliefs, and their behaviors, etc. You believe that your future self will mess up everything and have started to disregard their feelings about this. This pile has a lot of intuitive people, and in your future you see prosperity, abundance, genuine love, and everything that one person could desire, yet you keep discrediting your future self’s achievements and believe your past self is the one that obtained these. You also have been neglecting your present self and invalidating your feelings because it doesn’t fit your standards of who you are supposed to be or were. Your past self was able to help you get here, but it is your present self that is holding the stance, and it will be your future self that helps you achieve your goal. As long as you keep doing this negative cycle of insulting your future self, you will keep straining the friendship with yourself and question why everything is going wrong. Don’t allow yourself to be your own enemy, and then expect kindness from yourself. An enemy would never show kindness to their enemy without seeking something, and you are doing the same to yourself. Do not invalidate your feelings just because you have them now. Do not play victim with yourself whenever something negative occurs and go running to the same person that is playing you and making you feel worthless. Don’t do it.

You are making it harder to achieve your dream life and embody your desired self. Why crave something with all of your heart but push it away at every opportunity that comes? Why make it harder for yourself when you know damn well that you can make your desires a reality with a change of thought? What makes self-sabotage so special to you that you believe it is something that you deserve? You hide the smallest things from yourself—the smallest—it’s not necessary to keep straining the relationship with yourself. You are not this toxic person, you are your own person. Stop believing they are right when they are not. They’re an ass! Truly.

I know that you believe your past self is the embodiment of perfection; they were very confident, they had everything wanted, they could say no within seconds without shying away, without looking back, their mindset was a godsend and everyone would die to have it, they always strive for the best, but they are not here anymore, and that is not who you are anymore. Stop changing who you are right now, and allow yourself to naturally become them again. Forcing yourself to be a certain way and expecting to embody them within seconds is what is causing you so much stress that you feel su!cidal. My intuition says—take this into your heart and hold it dear because it’s something that you must understand. My intuition says, ‘’if you keep filling a hollow cup that has punctured holes on the bottom, hidden from its user, you will allow yourself to feel frustrated wondering why it is not filling up. It is a half empty cup, a cup that was always going to be hollow, something that cannot be fixed unless you create a new one. But that new one cannot be fixed overnight, it takes time and effort for it to manifest. If one were to pressure the one who created the cup, they would stress out and take a longer time to make it. Those stressful thoughts will cause despair and shame, as it buries them in insecurities as they hold onto those expectations from their client; something that is simply impossible even if it was done by a master from this field. So do not become this client to yourself when you know well you cannot embody them anymore.’’

How has it been affecting you?

Page of swords reversed, chains, justice reversed.

You are already aware of how this has been affecting you mentally. People have been feeding off of your energy like a vampire, and you feel drained constantly. A lot of you have wondered if there is something wrong, perhaps it's a lack of nutrients or iron issues, and for the rest, you have asked your family what is going on and taken their advice, but nothing has been working. The people feeding off your energy are causing you this confusion, thus making you struggle to accept when better opportunities come your way. I see a vision where someone from the noble family, primarily a prince with gold flowers on his jacket’s material, opens up an envelope from a desired place. The desired place is vague without a specific area. When they were opening up the envelope, all of their beautiful emotions were forcefully pushed into a dirty jar as it got sealed, and he could not get it back, leaving him with the unwanted emotions he buried away for so long. These emotions used to bury him in quicksand, and each time he tried to get out, he would sink deeper, and finally, one day, he allowed it to only for him to realize this isn’t where he wanted to be. But in this situation, his negative emotions came back to haunt him because he never healed from it. This vision is subjective, and each of you has a different place or want about something, yet you have not healed from your past, and now it is haunting you. You have a lot of overwhelming emotions, and you are slowly but surely pushing away the positive emotions because you fear they will be the ones you cannot stand. You are struggling to understand which emotions are right to feel and what is not. In short, you cannot feel anymore, everything is gray for you. Becoming your own blockage has made it easier for you to feel something, but has made it harder for you to become your dream self. Why disappoint yourself to feel something? Truly, what have you gained from it? You have lost so much. You lost trust in yourself. You have allowed others to break promises with you, telling them it is okay and then allowing them to do it again. You sabotaged job opportunities; you let yourself fail as you were held back for a year or another semester, yet you are such a hard working person. You (some) have let your ex cheat on you with a friend encouraging it, thinking that it’s okay just to feel, and (some) you allowed people to harm you for shits and giggles just to feel.

You are feeling these negative emotions because you started to get high from negativity and ruining your mindset, so no, these emotions and thoughts are not validated. And you must change these thoughts, or you will fall so painfully hard that you will lose yourself in the progress. Sabotaging your future self is cruel; they are NOT your enemy, they are your friend. Stop sabotaging your FUTURE self and your present self and then believing it is okay. It’s not, and these will not be validated by me.

To become your own enemy, to ruin opportunities for growth and self-improvement, is another type of cruelty that one would not wish upon someone else despite it all. To have that much hatred for someone you do not know and then complain about not getting where you want to be is another type of incompetence. To keep lying to yourself about things that will never happen, to cause stress and fear upon yourself just to laugh at yourself, is so cruel and morbid. How can you believe that is okay? To have such an elegant and beautiful energy, to now for it become the opposite of that: a disturbing energy. This is a whole new level of wow. Not the good wow, the wow of embarrassment. Originally, as I channeled your reading, I thought the energy vampire was someone else, yet it is you with yourself since all you do is torment yourself and get off on it. You do not do any of your work, you do not speak to your friends (not anymore since everything went to shit), you do not do anything, you barely cook for yourself, you just sabotage your present self and future self, and that’s it. You are the joker, but with yourself, and this is not okay and it never will be. It’s disgusting energy, and get mad at me as much as you would like to, but you came for a reading, and you are getting an honest one. Let’s keep going. Please take this reading to heart and heal for the better.

Moving on. You need to go back into your past and understand what led you to this. What caused you so much pain that you believed that in order to do better and be better, you must cause yourself pain. Shame keeps popping up in my mind. What decisions did you make in your past that have you so much regret that you hate yourself this much? What or who caused you so much for this to repeat in the same cycle? Healing a bit and then sabotaging yourself, going back to the same cycle, and then feeling su!cidal again. The word “shame,” is shaking around, chaotically spreading around in my mind. Your energy is so off-putting, not for me or anyone else, just for yourself. A vision appeared where someone (you) is stuck in a circus trap where wild animals are usually held, and the headmaster or headmistress is shaking a gold bell to the person, saying they are a failure, a shameful mistake, and a useless c*nt. Intuition tells me this owner is and was a friend or a current lover of yours that always made fun of you and gradually made you believe the lies from their tongue, hence the golden bell. Sometimes these bells can indicate control over someone, and the same person follows through and obeys. The same can be said here.

This is why I said your pile is tricky, there are two parties. Those who dealt with a friend and the other, a current lover. Nonetheless, follow along because this could make sense at the end, even if it doesn’t resonate yet.

Having vulnerability in a relationship can become nerve-wracking; you do not know if the other person is going to hurt your feelings, or use you as a means to an end. Other times, the idea of saying the truth can be scary and the thought of fabricating is easier, but as you keep lying like this to yourself and with others, you create a deeper rabbit hole for yourself. Not because you forget what you have lied about, but because you cause a drift and ruin the perception you have of yourself and who you associate yourself with. It doesn’t matter who you hang out with or date; you will always sabotage yourself because you ruined your perception of who you are. Meaning, you can no longer be vulnerable with yourself because you are used to lying and manipulating yourself, giving yourself hope and then ruining it for yourself—all of this has created a ball of emptiness, thus causing you to lose your emotions that you have been longing for. The only person to blame is yourself now. You have to take responsibility to become better for your younger self that dealt with that friend, or now and leave that current lover of yours. I feel like a part of you (everyone here), wants to genuinely heal, but fears linger in your mind, and cutting that cord scares you shitless. Letting go and not having those emotions is nagging you, and you feel like it’s better to have them than be empty. But sometimes, it is better to feel nothing than to lie to yourself to feel something. You do not gain anything from it.

How do you let go?

Reversed III of wands.

You must allow yourself to let go. Often, we allow others to control us, forgetting that we can control many things. In this case, you can control yourself to stop nitpicking and shaming your present and future self. Allow yourself to have your needs met and show yourself that it is okay to allow your path to go another way. Knowing that your past self cannot control you any longer and that it is time to let go. Allow your mind to be a waterfall, and imagine all the thoughts and trauma you cause yourself to be pushed away into that jar, just as the vision I saw with the prince. But rather this time, it’s the negativity that has engulfed your precious mind. And as you push these thoughts within that jar, allow the peaceful ones to come back within, and show appreciation that you did not do. And remember that the past cannot be undone as much as you want it to be, but that is also the beauty of life. Because now you are mindful of the decisions you make for yourself, and you now have a chance to do better and be better, but in a healthy way. Letting go may be hard, but doing it now as you read this is much better than never doing it—you may need time, and you may have to let go in baby steps, yet it is far better than not doing it. The gold flowers that were on the prince's jacket's fabric were an indication of your heart before all of this concurred. Having a gold heart to devote to those you care for is not an ill thing, it’s beautiful when it is well taken care of. Yet this time, do not make the same mistake, instead.. show that heart to yourself and let it engulf you so you can bring happiness back to yourself. And to become your dream self while learning what your dream life will be in the near future.

Masterlist

Pile II.

What do you have to let go?

The hanged man reversed, IX of swords, and the VII of cups.

Your pride. I believe this pile is self-explanatory. Even cutting it short, right here, you would already know what I am talking about. But I will get down to the deeper aspects of your pride, the ones you hide away with deadly vines that drown their prey for the fun of it.

Your mind is your escape palace, each time something triggering reappears, you allow yourself to dissociate from the world and stay in your inner world. In a way, you are always on autopilot and struggling to balance staying in reality and staying in the clouds has worsened. Now, you have started to feel fake, as if this is not your body and who you are. You are lost in your own fantasy that you have caused yourself—an addiction that has been challenging to leave. Your pride is another factor in this fantasy. It has caused you shame for even acting upon this fantasy, as you have always been someone who prided themselves on being better and never falling for something as this. Always made fun of others, and now life has bitten you.

Pride can either be our greatest ally or our greatest foe, and before all of this occurred, it was your best friend, yet now it’s out of tune with your goals and the life you dream of. It sees you as prey that it must devour, and you are letting it be. The IV of swords indicates troubles on fears, doubts, guilt, and worries; all the overwhelming emotions that you have been walking on eggshells around. These have become your new normal, but you have forgotten what it's like to feel peace surrounding your heart. My intuition tells me you must let go of your pride and learn to embrace this new addiction of yours. Learn to use this escape routine in something safe. Meaning, a lot of you daydream and douse yourself in different fantasy worlds of who you are and what you have there, yet your personality is always the same. Use those skills on figuring out what dream life you like to obtain and manifesting it into your reality. Take time in creating a realistic world and figuring out who you desire to be, what job you want, and what fashion you truly crave, and if you cannot find it, then learn to sew and make clothes for it to come. Do not be afraid to learn something new and find a new hobby. Allow yourself to engage in this world and the world you will create about this realistic world, and you will gradually see no reason to escape into that fantasy world of yours.

How has it been affecting you?

VI of wands reversed, the sun and III of wands reversed.

It has been causing you to feel overwhelmed to the point where you have been struggling to keep up with your daily life. Some things that feel real have started to submerge you into your fantasy. You struggle to figure out what is real and what isn’t. I keep hearing that some of you have depersonalization-derealization disorder, and some of you struggle with hallucinations. Some type of disorder has it, but I cannot be specific about it because there are too many disorders that are popping up as I channel this. A lot of you have started to hate yourself about it and would rather give up on life and let it be. Your pride is still truly your enemy, as VI of wands reversed speaks about it.

I have already said this pile is rather self-explanatory, but with the sun, you keep ignoring your struggles to be something small when it is not. You keep invalidating how you feel and believe it is better to be this resilient person who does not face struggles. Mind you, you are human, you are allowed to feel. It is okay to cry and feel those struggles, and it is truly okay to let loose and feel your emotions. But once you feel okay, and truly embrace those feelings, let it go, and get your ass back up and find solace in your desires that you create through these worlds you create and make it in your reality. Stop allowing your pride and fantasy ideals to take over and make you someone you are not. You are not this lazy person that you have idolized yourself to be; hell, you are not this evil person you think that you are, you have always been sweet and mind you it is okay to show compassion. It is not a disgusting feeling. Do not become your own setback and believe this it—this is your last resort and you cannot do much afterwards. Do not fall into this loophole of despair and think that is okay. Would you prefer it in the future that being in the same place you are as of now is your future, or will you do everything in YOUR power to change your reality?

How do you let go?

Let go of the idolized version from fear that you created so you can never change and make your desires into your reality. A lot of people create idolized versions of themselves to either daydream about (this is your case), and others do it to BECOME them. Which one sounds more appealing?

I keep asking you the same thing because you keep brushing them away. Which one would you truly have? What kind of future do you want? Don’t you want to have those fantasy worlds of yours come to life? Anything is truly possible, I know that it doesn’t seem to be the case, but it is. If you allow yourself to make your dream life come to you instead of pushing it away because you are not ready, then you can never have what you want. I know that shame can eat us alive to the point where those emotions rot in our flesh and cause delays throughout our hearts, but it is also important to recognize that this is your life and it is time to let go of this ‘’you,’’ and embark on the real you that has been cast away because of despair. So, I ask again, and please answer this one honestly. Who do you desire to be, what is your future like, and what do you want your dream life to be like? Only you and you alone can make your life change. Change cannot happen without you and your thoughts alone. How do you desire your thoughts to be? Would you like to change your pitiful thoughts and make them into positive ones like, “I am deserving of change. I allow change within my heart and let go of the old me that does not align with my dreams. I am free, and I have let go of all that ached my heart. Freedom is my destiny, and I am deserving of all of the beauty that comes from life.’’ Allow my intuitive words to heal your heart and make your life better. The things you desire cannot happen instantly, that is not realistic, and that is okay. Be consistent with these words and see the magic appear.

The tower.

I felt like something was missing and yet it was. Stop hiding the desires you actually have and remind yourself it is okay to crave them. Some of you crave genuine friendships, and the rest of you crave to love another but have been hurt to the point of no return. Listen to me, okay? It is genuinely okay to crave them. I understand that you have always done everything alone and believe you are destined for that, and maybe you are if you do not change your thoughts, but as I said, change cannot happen unless you change. But my intuition tells me the desires you crave are what are supposed to happen as you gradually become comfortable with better thoughts that make your day brighter. You are supposed to wake up in the morning without stressful and unwanting thoughts; you are supposed to smile randomly to yourself, and you are supposed to feel so much peace surrounding your heart. This is not because you change, this is because this has been part of your journey. Meaning, this has already been written down for you from the start, whether you believe in these or not.

Masterlist.

Pile III.

What do you have to let go?

VI of wands reversed, II of cups, VII of cups, and the lovers.

It is time to move on from the love that you are mourning. They do not and did not care for you as you did with them. I understand putting all the love you had for them did not manifest in the way you desired, but as you keep mourning, you allow your life to be stagnant. No change is coming in your direction, and there is a lack of balance in your heart. What they have done to you is not your fault; do not allow them to take over and make you believe that you were the devil. You are a beautiful rose that has fallen on the floor, hidden from the world, but it is time for you to come back and be seen. Allow yourself to gain the confidence that was stolen by them and rejoiced. It’s not wrong for you to move on and become happier for yourself. Those words that came from them as you both broke up were mere lies. They wanted you to keep thinking about them, and they wanted you to never move on. But is that what you still want? For your life to be on pause as everything else around you keeps moving forward?

I see a scene where a beautiful fallen angel is being thrown by “God” down onto earth, where their once light illuminating skin is transformed into nothing but gray skin and black hair. No shining light surrounds them, it is as if they are forgotten. This is your energy, and that “God” was your ex. They were not your grace, and they never were as much as you wanted to believe. It is time for you to let go and find your illuminated light once more. Stop allowing your what-ifs to cause you doubt about the truth; you already know that they did not care for you, so why do you still care for them? Still desire their love, devotion, validation, and care? Do you not have any self-respect for yourself? Learn to seek them from within and learn to heal the hole in your heart so you can learn to appreciate the special lover coming to you after you heal. Your dream life is creating a beautiful family with a special person and finding solace so you can both work together—to find someone who desires the same workplace and where you can speak all night long about the same subject. Allow your mind to come up with different possibilities about how your life can become beautiful instead of the negative what-ifs. It is causing your mind stress and making it hard for you to let go of this nonexistent loss. They were not the loss, you were. You have lost yourself for this person who does not deserve you. And they have lost someone who had the most mesmerizing heart that would light up anyone’s dreadful days. Become this angel for yourself again.

My love, your last card is the lovers. This was closed off for me before I checked your last card. The lovers is such a beautiful card and is your proof that this person will come only if you heal. Do not force the healing, allow it to come naturally. You must heal yourself, do not damage them as you have done to yourself. Learn to treat yourself with compassion, delicacy, and care. Some of you believe in God but have lost your ways because of them ruining your faith for their sake. Go back to the religion that you once loved and embodied it. It is not wrong to go back and appreciate the religion that gave you peace nor is it wrong to have one. The person whom is coming is absolutely mesmerizing, their heart is like gold and reminds me of those romantic movies that make any person swoon. Their love will make you fully believe you are worthy of natural and soft love. If I were to say it, you would not believe me, nor would you believe your loved ones. That is why you must say it to yourself first and then allow them to say the same.

How has it been affecting you?

Ten of cups.

I have already written how it has been affecting you, however, with the ten of cups this is simply a stronger indication about the beautiful love that will engulf you on a beautiful journey. Ten of cups indicate a fairytale ending with lots of happiness and freedom. The ending of Cinderella keeps coming to my mind and that is the same love that will come to you. This love is so refreshing, I cannot say anymore because it is for you to find out and for me to keep hidden.

How do you let go?

You just have, have you not? I felt your energy shift as I shuffled the ten of cups. You felt the same, did you not? You already knew of this person but needed the confirmation. So, allow me to write you a letter instead.

Dear you,

I am rather proud of you for letting go as you read this pile. To let go that quickly without causing pain to yourself or allowing the doubts to creep in—to allow yourself the freedom you sought for so long and to see this and tell yourself it is time to let go. It is so beautiful and so heartwarming to see. I do not know you personally, nor may I ever, and the same goes for you with me, but if I did, I would hug you, cup your cheeks, and look into your eyes as I whisper that I am proud of you. I cannot explain properly how proud I am of you, but hopefully you can tell by my energy, or perhaps from the texting style of my words? I hope that when this person comes, not only will it truly be a fairytale ending, but that you look back in your past where you were hopeless and broken by your ex—that you wish that your past self a thank you for moving forward despite it all and getting far as where you are right now. And to always remember them by the things they enjoyed before it was ruined by the image of your ex and instead of disgust now, it is something to be cherished. I truly hope you find peace each day moving forward, and I hope love comes to you in unexpected ways.

Yours truly,

Sefina.

Masterlist.

Pile IV.

What do you have to let go?

Ace of cups, and the fool reversed.

I know that you are happy with the new relationship that has started for you. That you finally found the right person for you who treats you with love and admiration. You believe this is your new beginning, but this is what you must let go. This person is not your new beginning, they are the pain.

They will cause you so much pain that you will feel fear, the same fear that I feel as I channel for you. Love bombing keeps appearing on my mind, this is a manipulation tactic, and some of you have already noticed when they lie but brush it off. You have been hurt so many times and you believe, or have manipulated your mind to believe this person is your future spouse from the endless amount of love piles you read. But they aren't, and they will be your demise. They will leave you with so much unwanted baggage that it will be hard to let go and may lead you to want to let your demons win. A lot of you have tried letting go of this connection in a dream, you keep seeing the same person in your dream. You know them, but you do not at the same time, some type of placebo effect appears to my mind.

Think of a one-sided relationship where a person puts all of this love imaginable, and the same person does the same. But as the relationship evolves, one of them starts to feel resentment for the other, and those feelings add up into a ball of energy, and eventually they harm their lover so they can get rid of those feelings. But it does not work and they still feel hatred. The same can be said for you and this person. It is time to let go of someone who resents you. You did not know them or know them well, but they have been keeping tabs on you and want to make it to the finish line—the finish line being your downfall. I get stalkerish vibes from them. Be careful.

Confirmation: the fool reversed.

The fool reversed in tarot cards indicates chaos, being naïve, trusting the wrong person, being stupid or engaging in stupid and reckless decisions, and having poor judgement. As I said, this person was giving me stalkerish vibes and the same can be said here. I also hear murderous, or an ex-killer. I feel dread around my heart, and I advise you to be very very careful when breaking up with them and to have someone who can protect you to be with you.. please. I keep hearing a dad, so perhaps, if you are close with him, have your father, and if not, a male figure. It will intimidate the person and trigger childlike fear for them (that is, for you to be able to break it out safely).

How has it been affecting you?

VII of pentacles, page of wands, and ace of cups.

It has been mentally exhausting you. On one hand, you know that they have been off-putting, but this is deep within your heart. That part where you cannot allow yourself to be vulnerable. And on the other hand, you are the fool reversed—too trusting for your own good. You cannot trust someone who makes you question the idea of love and if it is a good thing, even if it’s a thought you keep brushing away. And you cannot always be the one putting all the energy into a relationship, always taking the blame for their wrongdoings, and believing that you are the one causing a crime. That is not what a healthy relationship would look like.

This also has been affecting you as they have been triggering you. You have been wondering why you act a certain way with others, and with them, it is almost like you are another person. Someone who bows down for them instantly, but this is not you nor what a relationship should look like. A healthy relationship helps you grow, makes you believe you are worthy of love and care, heals you, makes you feel like an angel, challenges you in a healthy manner, works together to overcome challenges, and allows your childlike nature to escape and feel happiness. You have not felt that once with them, and if you have, you either were gaslighted by them or manipulated yourself for their sake.

You need to talk to someone you trust with all your might about this. A lot of you are already stressed out about them and this toxic relationship of yours. Some of you are already doubting what I am saying to you, and that is fine, but at the same time, this person will say the same but in a different approach because they know you better than I. You got the ace of cups once more.. that is your confirmation once again. These doubts that you have must be let go, and you must take action on them. The energy is so toxic that I had to take a break because I did not want to do your reading. As you already know, I am rather honest, but this pile hurt me internally. Not because there is anything wrong with you in this situation, no, but because of what you are going through and how this so called lover is with you. A part of me simply doesn’t want to keep writing this, just like another part of you wants me to lie and say they are an angel; they are this and they are that, but that would be a lie and I simply would never atone for that. Another part of me is writing it so you can be safe, and that is the part of you that you keep pushing away as said before. You must understand they are not good for you, end of story, my dear.

How do you let go?

Trust your gut feeling and understand those thoughts that arise about them. One of your parts already knows they are not a good person, yet you will not do anything about it. You cannot let go because of the fear and tight relationship they have with you. I see an image of someone choking someone as their legs are not touching the ground. Do not be that person to believe that you can fix this person and they will treat you with love, they are not. They are awful for a reason, and you already know this reason. Your gut feelings know and you keep ignoring it.

III of cups and queen of wands reversed.

Right now, you are struggling to trust yourself about them, and in the beginning of this reading, I spoke about a father and, if not, a male figure. The person you trust most is a male figure, so speak to them about this and learn to trust their words. You also need to learn to have confidence and respect for yourself before you break up. I see you breaking up with them before gaining those, and it doesn’t work out for you.

Masterlist.

[venusandsaturnsrings]

boothill is many things. a gunslinging outlaw, a ninety percent metal man, someone who’s attitude definitely reflects in his appearance, but most importantly; a nuisance. a thorn in your side. an ear grating bother. he knows this and he takes advantage of it, especially when your hands are tied up with plenty other business. unfortunately, things took a more literal sense.

you had been sipping a glass of something at a table in a small saloon, celebrating a coworkers birthday who you couldn’t even remember the name of but it was an excuse to get out and, besides, they said they’d pay for the first round of drinks so who were you to decline? people had been dancing in front of you and perhaps your chosen activity of observing had gotten too meticulous as you hadn’t noticed the slinking shadow drift past, nimble fingers dropping a pill of god knows what into your drink. the sweet and citrus flavour of the cocktail masking whatever taste could’ve been left as you continued drinking with your head in your hand. as you got to the bottom of the glass, your eyelids felt heavy and thus did you take the cue to get going home. after bidding a couple farewells and good wishes to the birthday person who’s face was a blur, you stepped out into the cold breeze feeling sluggish; as if you’d had ten drinks and not just one. squinting, you steadied your breath before walking, neglecting to notice that same figure sauntering up behind you. it was the smell of gunpowder and musk that alerted you, spinning around faster than you should have and nearly hitting the ground if he hadn’t caught you in time with a half-hearted chuckle. bubbles clouding your vision, you could only internally groan at the smatter of white, black, and red before you were out cold.

coming to, the first thing you noticed were the tight bindings keeping your body uncomfortably still. thick rope wrapped around your torso and wrists, forbidding you from moving even and inch. wherever he had taken you, it was dark and damp with only the sound of your breathing to keep you company up until the telltale ‘click’ of his shoes and the concurrent ‘ting’ of his spurs. a cold metal finger slid across your chin and only then did you notice how blazingly hot you felt all over. you sucked in a breath, waiting for him, boothill, to say something but he uttered no more than a low hum as his fingers drew icy patterns down your neck and chest. a shudder wracked your body and he moved in front of you, his eyes holding some sort of emotion you weren’t quite familiar with on his face; somewhere between his ‘hand it over’ greed and ‘nice shot’ dry praise. he settled between your now untied, when did he do that you wondered, legs with his metal frame pressed firm into you. never before had you considered the intricacies of his body but with him so close and a different kind of pressure against your crotch, you figured he had some sort of… attachment. fear whipping through your chest, it was then you realized what exactly this evenings plans were for him and they were punctuated with his usual tacky speech.

“c’mon, darlin’, let’s play a bit. this cowboys gotta bullet special for ya’.”

[scribblesofagoonerr]

found family | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

pairings: leah williamson x reader!monkey x jordan nobbs

summary: how it came to be.

You never really understand the importance of family, after all you grew up with an alcoholic and drug addict of a father who made it very well known he didn’t care about you from the very day you were born but meeting Leah and Jordan changed everything for you– They became your found family.

You had been a part of the Arsenal Girls’ center of excellence since you were about nine or ten, however, if you asked Leah then she would tell you that she’s practically watched you grow up right in front of her.

It was somewhat true at least.

You guess that you can say she has always been watching out for you, even when you weren't  aware of it.

The only family member that actually gave a damn about you was your grandma– your dads’s mum. That lady adored you, fussed over you and made sure that you never went without so when she died when you were 15-years-old, you were completely heartbroken.

Everything started to fall apart.

You were left with an ass hole of a father who was nothing but neglectful, he couldn’t have cared less about you and it wasn’t just his words that he lashed out with, but his fists too.

It wasn’t long after that when people started to realise that everything wasn’t as perfect as it seemed behind closed doors, your dad had always been clever at hiding the truth but even the best kept secrets have a way of coming to light eventually.

Leah was the first person to start piecing things together.

During the time of being eased into the first team, ever the observant one, Leah would notice the way that nobody ever came to pick you up after training on the days that you were there.

“Calm down, I’m sure there’s a reasonable excuse for them not being there,” Jordan would try to reason with her worried girlfriend, “Perhaps her parents are just at work.”

Her concern only got worse though when you would arrive late in the mornings, stumbling in with a messy kit and barely holding it together, along with seeing the way you would scarf down any snacks left at the club, like you hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long.

Of course you think you’re doing an amazing job of hiding it– Keeping your head down, making jokes and pretending like everything is totally fine.

Even when it’s not, and the blonde woman is able to see right through it.

“Where the hell are this kid’s parents?” Leah couldn’t help but think to herself after watching you slip out the door alone.

You’re oblivious to realise how Leah would frown every time she sees that you’re alone or how she would shake her head when she watches you drag your feet in the morning.

Of course she can see through you acting like a menace.

“I’m telling you Jord, there’s something seriously going on,” Leah brought up the conversation with her girlfriend again as they left training for the day, her own maternal instinct kicking in

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Jordan attempts to reassure her girlfriend as they make their way over to the car, “The kid is old enough to be able to make her own home anyways,” She added.

“I feel like there’s something more going on,” Leah murmured, her hand resting on her slightly swollen belly, “You can’t deny that you don’t feel like there’s something suspicious going on?” She asked the older woman.

“I don’t know, Le,” Jordan admitted, shrugging her shoulders, “Do you think you’re maybe just overthinking things because you care about this kid?” She wondered.

“No… I don’t know, it just seems like there’s something else going on,” Leah replied, biting her bottom lip as she tossed her bag into the boot of the car before climbing in the car, “I know you might think I’m overthinking this, but I have a gut instinct about this.”

There was definitely something wrong.

Leah couldn’t shake the feeling about something being off, every day she watched you, the nagging sense that things weren’t quite right only grew stronger.

The blonde’s worry only continued, especially on one particular miserable day where the rain was pouring down and it was the kid of relentless downpour that would soak you to the bone within seconds, she was driving back home from a quick check up with the physio when she spotted you trudging down the road, you were completely drenched through and shivering in the thin jacket that you wore, your kit bag slung over your shoulder as you tried to shield yourself from the rain with the attempt of a flimsy hood.

“What the hell,” Leah’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened in disbelief, she couldn’t believe the sight that she was seeing at that moment– You were there, walking alone in the freezing rain, not a single adult in sight.

Without even thinking twice, the blonde slowed the car down and pulled up beside you, “Hey, kid!” She rolled down her window and called to get your attention, “Do you want a ride? It’s absolutely hammering it down out here.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” You're quick to disagree, shaking your head as your teeth chatter from the freezing weather, “It’s not much further to talk, I’m good.”

“Kid, come on. Let me just give you a ride,” Leah was relentless to give you a ride as she leaned over to open the passenger door, “You’re bound to get sick otherwise.”

You're hesitant to agree to the blonde’s offer, you didn’t want to give anything away but you couldn’t deny the warmth and safety of her car would be better than being out in this miserable weather.

“Okay,” You gave in and opened the car door, sliding in as your teeth still continued to chatter from the freezing temps, “Thank you.” You mumbled, trying to not meet her gaze as you stared down at your sodden trainers.

“It’s okay kid, anytime,” Leah said softly, cranking up the heat in the car to help you warm up, asking you for the address which you gave her and she started to drive again, “So, is there any particular reason you’re out walking alone in this weather?” She asked, trying to tread carefully and not spook you when asking questions.

“Oh, uh, my dad is working late so he couldn’t pick me up,” You were quick to make up the excuse, knowing full well that if you had asked your father for a lift home then he would have most likely laughed in your face.

Leah clicked her tongue in disagreement, “What about your mum?” She wondered.

That question was one you would love to know yourself as well, the said women abandoned you at the tender age of 2 and didn’t think twice about it.

“She’s dead,” You didn’t think twice about telling her, because to you she might as well be.

Leah glanced sideways at you with her brows furrowing slightly at the casual way you spoke about your mother, sensing there was more to the story but she didn’t want to press for answers.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that kid,” Leah replied softly, her voice filled with genuine sympathy that made your chest tighten.

It wasn’t something you were used to hearing, especially not from someone who actually meant it.

“It’s fine, it was a long time ago,” You shrugged your shoulders and brushed it off as you focused on the rain pattering against the windshield, with a hope that the blonde would just drop it.

“Listen kid, if you ever need a ride to training or you know, just someone to talk to…” The blonde began to talk, glancing over to try and see your reaction, “All you have to do is ask, alright? I don’t mind you giving you my number.” She added.

“Thanks,” You murmured in a low tone of voice, although you weren’t quite sure if you would ever take up on that offer as trust wasn’t something that came easily to you, you had your walls built up so high around you.

It was the only way to protect yourself.

The next week at training, you’re late again. This time though, you’re not just dragging your feet but also feeling pale, shaky and you’re barely able to even stand up properly.

Before you know it, your vision blurs and you can feel yourself stumbling but before you can drop to the floor, Leah’s there in an instant to catch you before you hit the ground.

“Whoa,” Leah held you steady in her arms as she guided you towards the bench in the changing room, “It’s alright, come and take a seat.” She told you, gently.

“M’ fine,” You murmured as you felt yourself being pushed down onto the hard bench.

The blonde wasn’t entirely convinced, “No you’re not, you can barely stand up,” She paused as she routed through her bag and pulled a protein bar out for you to eat, “Here, eat this. Please.”

You don’t hesitate to tear into it, the gnawing hunger finally easing up a little bit.

“When was the last time you had a proper meal?” Leah questioned, softly.

You hesitated the answer, your mind scrambling to remember the last time you sat down to eat something that wasn’t a hastily grabbed snack, “Uh,” You stammered, the pause in your response telling Leah everything she needed to know.

The blonde sighed softly, crouching down to meet your eyes, “Hey, why don’t you come around for dinner tonight?” She suggested, her voice warm and inviting, “I know you like pizza, right? We could order that, watch a movie and just chill.”

“I… I don’t know, my dad’s working and all,” You find it difficult to agree as you look down at your fingers and fidget with the edge of your sleeve, “If I’m not back by a certain time then my dad will worry about where I am.”

“I get it, but if you’re dad’s working then surely he won’t mind you being around teammates?” Leah gave you a sympathetic smile, taking to mask the concern that flickered across her face, “How about you come for just an hour or so? Have some pizza with us and then I’ll drive you home right after if you want.”

“Okay, alright. Just an hour though,” You agree begrudgingly with the blonde, knowing she wouldn’t let it go.

“Deal,” Leah grinned, relief washing over her face with the promise of a warm meal and some company, even just for an hour, it felt like a small victory in a battle she was determined to win.

“Jord? We have a guest for dinner!” Leah called out, her voice warm as she gently rested her hands on your shoulders as she guided you through the front door of their home.

The older woman had made it home before her girlfriend, already being given the heads up ahead of you coming to their home for dinner so the pizza was on its way. 

You were weary enough to be here, anxious in case your dad did find out where you were.

Of course he wasn’t at work, more like down the pub instead, so maybe he wouldn’t care if you were home or not after all.

“Hey kid,” Jordan appeared from around the corner, a dish towel slung over her shoulder as she smiled warmly at you, “I heard you like pizza, huh?”

“I do,” You quietly replied in agreement, fumbling at the loose string of your club branded jumper before Leah gestured you to follow her into the living room.

“I ordered cheese pizza because of Miss picky over here,” Jordan joked, pointing her index finger in the direction of her girlfriend, “Are you okay with that?” She checked.

“It’s okay, I like cheese,” You told the women as you settled on the sofa, you couldn’t help but notice various baby items scattered throughout the living room and you suddenly felt a bit curious to ask questions, “Are you going to have a baby soon?” The words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“We are,” Leah said, her smile gentle as she rested her hands on her growing bump, “Only another few months to go till we get to meet our little bubba.”

Jordan joined Leah on the sofa, her arm draped casually over the back of Leah’s seat as she shot you a friendly smile, “We’re really excited to meet them, but can I let you in on a little secret?” She asked, leaning in as if to share a secret only meant for two of you to hear.

You couldn’t help but nod, intrigued to know what it was, “What is it?”

“I’m actually pretty nervous as well,” Jordan confessed, glancing at Leah with a faint small smile, “There’s still so much to do before they arrive, so it’s still kind of overwhelming, you know?” She admitted.

You nodded, somewhat understanding the weight of feeling overwhelmed more than they both knew, “I do,” You agreed quietly, picking at the loose string of your jumper.

Despite the initial hesitation being there, the warmth of the home and the kindness of the two voices began to chip away at the walls you had put up.

The pizza arrived, small chatter was engaged and sure enough, Leah stuck to her word and an hour later, she drove you back to the empty, stark home where you lived.

You felt something that you hadn’t felt in a very long time around these two women, you felt safe.

The all too familiar gut feeling returned that Leah couldn’t shake as she pulled off from the being parked up outside your house and drove back to her own home.

“There’s something going on, more than what we know,” Leah brought up the conversation with Jordan that night as they got into bed, her voice tight with worry, “I’m really worried about the kid. Tell me you’re not worried about her as well?”

Of course I am,” Jordan pulled back the duvet and settled in beside her,  “You’re not imagining things, there’s definitely something more going on behind closed doors than we know about.”

Leah turned to face Jordan, her brows furrowed with frustration and helplessness, “Then what do we do? We can’t just ignore it,” She said, her voice wavering, “We know there’s something wrong, and we can’t just sit here and do nothing. If anything was to happen to her, then I… I will never forgive myself!”

“Le, I know you’re worried about her as am I,” Leah sighed softly, wrapping her arms around the blonde and resting a hand on her bump, her thumb tracing soothing circles, “I get it, babe, I do and I am just as concerned about her as you are, but we can’t do anything about proof. All we can do for now is be there for the kid, make sure she’s okay and that nothing serious happens.” She added.

“I… I know,” Leah nodded, but her mind was still restless with thought, staring at the ceiling with the weight of the unspoken promise heavy on her shoulders, “I’ll do whatever I can to protect that kid.” She vowed, ready to act when the time came.

Over the next several weeks, Leah and Jordan made more of a conscious effort to keep an eye on you during the time you were at training– Making sure to always include you in conversations and ask how you are doing, Leah would often slip you a protein bar when she noticed you hadn’t eaten and Jordan would offer you a ride home, whether you tried to refuse it or not.

You had definitely wormed your way into their heart and neither of them had a problem admitting that.

Then, one day there was something more serious that happened and both women were alerted of the situation immediately.

At first Leah and Jordan just thought you were running late for training again, the fact that you missed their previous texts and calls was a cause for concern in itself, but nothing new when you had a habit of not always checking your phone. Still, there was an uneasy feeling that neither of them could shake and when you finally stumbled in the state that you did, bruised and limping, it became clear that something far worse had happened.

“Now do you believe me there is something going on?” Leah said urgently, her eyes locking onto Jordan’s with a mix of fear and frustration, gesturing towards you while she noted the bruise on your cheek and the way you favoured one leg, “I knew it, I knew there was something wrong!”

The concern and protectiveness that the blonde felt for you was something else.

“I do… I do believe you,” Jordan’s face fell as she took in the sight of you, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat, “But what do we do now?”

“The kid needs help,” Leah said determined, her mind already made up, “I know you think I’m crazy, and maybe I am for suggesting this, but I want her to move in with us.”

Jordan was a bit more hesitant to agree to the idea, “I… I don’t know, Le. We’ve already got our hands full with the little one on the way,” She pointed out gently, trying to remind her girlfriend of their current situation, “Do you really think it’s a good idea? A newborn baby and a teenager– It’s a lot to take on.”

“I don’t care, we can manage it– We can handle it!” Leah was still more determined than ever with this decision, “I…I know it’s a lot, but I can’t just sit back and do nothing about it, can I? She needs us, Jord and if we don’t help her, then who will?”

Jordan exhaled a deep sigh, running her hand through her hair as she weighed out the gravity of Leah’s plea, she knew her girlfriend’s heart was in right place, but the practicality of the situation loomed large, “Okay,” She finally gave in reluctantly as there was no point in trying to argue about it when her stubborn girlfriend already had made her mind up about this. After all it would be a bad idea to disagree with a pregnant lady after all, “Alright, fine, if this is what you really want to do then I’m on board.”

“I do, I really do want this,” Leah’s expression softened, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over her as she reached out to squeeze Jordan’s hand, “Thank you, I just… I can’t turn my back on her, not now. She needs a safe place, a real home.”

“I know, babe,” Jordan said, her grip on Leah’s hand tightening, “I know and we’ll make it work, whatever it takes– we’ll figure it out together as a team.”

Leah nodded and gave her girlfriend a genuine smile, “As a team,” She repeated, squeezing her hand in reassurance, “Just get ready for the chaos.” She joked.

“Oh with a newborn baby and a teenager under one roof? I couldn’t think of anything more chaotic,” Jordan replied playfully, pulling her girlfriend in closer, “But it could also be kind of fun as well, right?”

“You and I have different versions of having fun,” Leah teased, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes, “But, yeah, it might just be the best sort of cray we’ve ever signed up for.”

It was surprisingly a lot easier to get your father to agree to it, he was more than willing to wash his hands off you, he was so disinterested about you swear you actually saw him smile for the first time. An actual genuine smile on his face, which just made you more sad about the fact that your dad really could care less about you.

Maybe it was the fact that he never got the son he so badly wanted?

“Have her,” The man sneered, “I’ve washed my hands off her, she’s your problem now.”

His parting words stung a lot and while Leah’s hands clenched in anger, bug Jordan’s arm around her kept her grounded.

The blonde’s eyes were blazing with anger, “You are unbelievable,” She spat out, her tone sharp and unfiltered, “You’ve got a kid right in front of you, a kid who’s done nothing but try to survive in spite of you, and all you can do is shrug her off like she’s nothing? You don’t even have the decency to pretend to care.”

Jordan just held Leah tighter, her silent support a calm anchor in the storm of emotions, “Let’s go, Le,” She urged softly, though her own gaze was cold and unforgiving as it lingered on your father.

The blonde’s anger didn’t fade, if anything, it deepened as she looked at the man who’d treated you as a burden instead of his own flesh and blood, “She’s not some problem to be handed off, and she’s not a mistake you can just ignore. She’s a kid, your kid and the way you’ve treated her is disgusting.”

Your father scoffed, as if he was barely affected by Leah’s words, “She’s your problem now,” He repeated in a gruff voice, “I want nothing to do with the brat.”

Leah’s jaw tightened, the venom in his words made her stomach churn in disgust. Opening her mouth to say more, Jordan gently tugged at her arm with a silent reminder that nothing else could be said would change the man in front of them.

Turning away from your father, Leah relented as her expression softened when she looked at you, but the fire in her eyes never dimmed, “Let’s just go.”

“Come on little one,” Jordan protectively guided you out of the house with her arm wrapped around you, the two women helped you gather the small amount of belongings that you had and you left the house, “Let’s get you out of here.”

You should have felt instant relief leaving that house, but instead you just felt incredibly sad that the father you grew up with, regardless of how much of a neglectful bastard he was, he was and always still would be your dad.

A part of you foolishly hoped that one day he’d see you, really see you, and want you around.

That never did happen though.

“I know this isn’t easy for you kid,” Leah noticed the flicker of sadness in your eyes and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, “But you’re not alone now, okay? We’re here and we’re not going anywhere. You’re safe.”

Jordan nodded in agreement, giving you a small encouraging smile, “Le’s right, we’ve got you little one,” She told you gently, “Whatever you need, whenever you need us, we’re here.”

And from there on, you were about to gain the family that you’d always deserved– A real home, with two people who cared a hell of a lot about you to fight for you, even when the world seemed to have given up.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[asharasasylum]

The Devil May Cry

Yandere brother x sister! reader (hotd) - part 2 here

author's note: hey guys trying something different. no character specified but characters i write for/have written for and think would fit, highlighted at the bottom. warnings: yandere. non con kisses. incest. abuse. talks of past child abuse. 18+

After everything he constantly puts you through, you still seem to always go running back. 

He’s cruel. Some people would even characterise him as vile, your parents included, but you saw through all of that. It was a reaction to the years of abuse and trauma your parents had buried him under as a child. So he lashed out sometimes, called you spiteful names and even scared you at times. But how was he supposed to know any better, especially when the people that were meant to love him had shown him nothing but hate. 

You felt it was up to you to show him love even when his cruelty was aimed towards you. He’s your brother, who neglects their brother. 

You took it. Every single bit of it. From the nasty venom he spat from his lips to the objects that skimmed you as they flew from his fist, smashing into the walls behind you. He terrified you most of the time and yet you still offered a hand out for him to bite. 

But he’s taken it too far. You repeat it over and over in your head again as you pack all your remaining stuff into a bag. 

You can still feel the indent of his rings against your throat and the touch of his lips pressed against yours. Bile rose up in the back of your throat as your mind tried to face the reality of what had really just happened. 

“We’re playing this game again are we?” You heard him sneer from the bed. 

You glanced up at him for a second, noticing how he was still sprawled out over the top of his sheets as if nothing had happened. Your stomach twisted in disgust and you turned away again. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours, yeah?” He asked rhetorically, genuinely believing like all the other times before you were going to come crawling back. But you couldn’t not when you could still feel his body pressing against yours as he forced himself on top of you, the feel of his body moulding into yours and the hardness that he had pressed against your crotch. 

You’re in the car before you know it, half an hour away with his mocking laughter still ringing in your ears. 

You can barely see out your window, it’s clouded by something only you don’t notice what it is till you pull over. Your hand reaches out to wipe it, only to realise it is tears covering your vision. 

Even as you frantically wipe at them, they’re thick and heavy as they rack through your body. They’re not going anywhere, along with the memory of what he had just done to you. 

It was only a kiss. You try to ease yourself with that thought. It had only lasted a few seconds before you stopped it. It was only a kiss.

//

You were meant to be gone for a few hours at best. Back before dinner, bringing him something home with a teary eyed smile and an apology as if you were the one in the wrong. Yet it is three am and you haven’t even so much as sent him a text. 

At first he’s worried, pacing back and forth in his bedroom thinking of all the awful things that might have happened to you. He’d never forgive himself if you got hurt. Especially when he had been the one to drive you away. 

Maybe he had taken it too far this time. But how was he meant to hold back when your eyes brimmed with tears and you pouted at his cruel words. He’s been desperate for a taste of you for years so who was he to deny himself when you were looking so delicate and ripe. 

His worry finally dies down when he tracks your phone down, finding your car outside a familiar building. That worry twists into a burning rage that courses through his body as he stares up into dimly lit windows

It’s only a friend, you had told him. No one he should be worried about, your words mock him as he taps his finger against his steering wheel. He felt like he could hear you laughing now. Besides you’re my brother and you’re way too old to be getting protective over me. 

The light flickers on in one of the apartment windows, and through the peak of the curtains he notices your silhouette. He knows it's you, recognising the tone of your skin under the flattering bright light. He knows the contours of your frame, even from a distance. 

You’re fine. But it isn’t relief that fills him as he realises this. He can’t describe the feeling that sinks into his skin as he starts his car up again. He’s never felt like this before, his anger mixing in with something else. 

His cheeks are wet suddenly and he wipes at them, only to realise he’s crying. But these tears aren’t for him, he tells himself as he drives off. No, these years are for you. 

HOTD - Aegon Targaryen. Aemond Targaryen. Jacaerys Velaryon.

HOTD - Fem x Male character Insert Master List

(Dividers by @cafekitsune)

[webshood]

please give your thoughts on the rest of the top 10 worst tropes in batfam fanon ! 🙏🙏 jason being tims caregiver is so ickyyyy

Top 10 worst tropes in the batfam fandom:

1 • Fanon Tim Drake

I'm not even the biggest Tim Drake fan, but that's not him. Y'all slapped Tim's name and parents (sometimes) on a random white boy (or a hyper feminine asian guy) and called it a day, he was never left alone at the Drake manor, his physical needs were always meet at his boarding school, he never had to make do with a can of pasta and a birthday candle, he never had to be homeless, he never went out at night on the rooftops of Gotham to take photos of Batman and Robin, Jason wasn't his Robin. His parents may be emotionally neglectful, but they never feed him food he was allergic to and made him go into anaphylactic shock. He's not a coffee addict, uwu bottom who had to do honeypot missions. Don't even get me started on how weird it is the increase of asian Tim headcanons/fancasts/face claims after he became canonically bi. (asian artists/creators not included)

2 • Cheater/Slut Dick Grayson

I'm all for characters being sexually liberated, but having the rroma character, which is a ethnicity not well perceived and sexualized to the nines, be the one who always cheats on his partners and can't keep his legs closed, who always just has to go do the undercover stripper or sex worker job, reducing his intelligence and personality just to have him act as a bimbo boytoy who's only personality traits is his butt and cocaine, like... It's giving racism babes

3 • Infantilized Cassandra Cain

Cass is a adult woman with a learning disability, not a five year old child, it's hard for people to even write Cass that much, but when they do it's so full of stereotypes that makes me gag, having her only use sign language is a small mercy from having her articulate words like a toddler and having the other characters coddle and act like she doesn't have the mental capacity to function in society when she's such a complex character, who, despite her lack of academic knowledge knows so much about people and compassion, it's lazy writing

4 • Caretaker Jason Todd

Kinda wild to have the guy who spent a good chunk of his life looking after his sick addict mother become the caretaker of a guy who's *checks notes* barely three years younger (Jason spent one year catatonic, so it's arguably) than him and just couldn't look after himself bc he *checks notes again* neglects his own body's needs bc he's a dumbass, like, oh but it's not little Timmy's fault, he has been born with glass bones and paper skin, every morning he breaks his legs and every afternoon he breaks his arms, every night he stays awake on his bed in agony, until his coffee induced heart attack puts him to sleep.

To be continued, I'mma write the rest later bc I'm sleepy asf rn

[sl0t4matt]

m. guiu bf! head canons (requested)

❀ he‘s crazy about you.

❀ his friends like to tease him about how obsessed he is with you but he doesn’t care. how could he not? in his eyes you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. outside and inside.

❀ he doesn’t want to spend his time with anyone that isn’t you.

❀ “marc! we’re gonna go out to eat with the team. you know, to celebrate tonight’s win.”

❀ “i’m okay, my girl is waiting for me.” he would say.

❀ you on the other hand like to also go out with your friends, since you never want to be that person, that does nothing with her friends anymore just because she’s dating someone.

❀ marc understands and waits in your bed for you, or calls hector out, since he’s always pissed marc completely neglects him when you’re around him.

❀ he just can’t help it. he’s head over heels for you. you got him charmed.

❀ you always send thirsty edits of him to him on tiktok.

❀ “fuck i look good.” he would say.

❀ but oh, can he be a part of the sassy man apocalypse. hitting you with comebacks you wouldn’t have even thought about. not even just that he would hit you with smart ass remarks. he was good with them. leaving you speechless sometimes.

❀ one thing about marc is he will spoil you. no matter how many times you tell him not to. that you do not need that prada bag on your pinterest board. it seems to be going in one ear and out of the other because he has almost bought you your whole pinterest wishlist.

❀ one of his most expensive gifts would be the catier bracelet that has his name engraved on it. you wear it every day to show everyone off but also feel close to him no matter where he is.

❀ you were so mad at him for buying it at first because of the price and how you don’t need all of that. that he’s enough. but he says he “wanted to” and shushes you.

❀ you’re his passenger princess.

❀ you have all of your lip products in his car. it almost looks like it’s your car.

❀ he always lets you put on your playlist since you think his music taste is shit.

❀ you influenced him though, because now he knows almost every song of your favourite artists and also listens to them while practice.

❀ he gets you your favourite flowers on every date you guys have. you could say it’s his love language to surprise you with flowers. even if the both of you just lay in your bed and watch a movie.

❀ when he’s coming to your house, he not only brings you flowers but also your mom and sweets for your siblings.

❀ another one of his love languages is physical touch. from only holding your waist in room full of people to kissing up your thighs as he goes down on you.

❀ he loves giving you head and tasting you. you think it gives him some sort of ego boost to please you.

❀ he also thinks it’s so hot when you wear his barca jersey while riding him. when you tried it for the first time it was just for fun wanting to try something new. you moaned “visca barca” in his ear, meaning for it to be funny. but he took it seriously and came three seconds after you said it. (😭)

❀ “please ma keep it on!” he would groan.

❀ can be such a whiny bitch sometimes when it comes to waiting to fuck you.

❀ it doesn’t help he would get hard at the most random moments.

❀ you lean into marc, your hand steading yourself on his leg to kiss him. your soft lips meet his for a few seconds then pull on his bottom lip teasingly.

❀ “let’s go in!” you pat his leg, leaning back in the seat as you wait for marc to open the door for you like he always does.

❀ “i-. uhm. can’t.” he coughs. you laugh loudly. “marc!! again?” you shake your head. “you’re pathetic!” you tease him laughing.

❀ you look down at the tent growing in his pants. “you’re not helping!” he groans his head falling back.

❀ “you want me to help you?” you poke his chest, winking. he sighs looking out. people won’t see us due to his black windows anyways.

❀ “fuck yeah. please do.”

❀ like said he loves you wearing his jersey that also speaks for the matches. it gives him strength to win, so you make sure that the barca jersey you’re wearing has the number 38 printed on it.

❀ you’re an emotional mess on his games. one time you’re celebrating that your boyfriends team scored, the other you’re cursing the refs and opponents.

❀ no one wants to face you when marc is scoring a goal. you’re going full crazy. yelling and chanting his name like an embarrassing mom. clapping and jumping like you’re completely mental.

❀ he points up to the bleachers to you, taking every opportunity on dedicating the goal to you. he would blow a kiss and you’d do the same after calming yourself down.

❀ you have a ritual for after the game. when the both of you come back from the game, you would give him a little reward for scoring ;)

❀ though it’s not really a valid one because when he loses, you try releasing his anger with doing the same thing.

❀ he would drag your hair while you give him head due to his anger.

❀ after completely ruining you he would apologise like the soft boyfriend he is.

❀ “sorry if i was too rough, baby.” he would say looking down on you.

❀ “it’s okay.” you would smile, eyes still glossy.

❀ after, you would lay your head on his chest and force him to stroke your arm until you fall asleep.

[aww-canon-no]

Steddie (Deaf Steve) Pt 2

You asked, so I’m here to give you more.  This time from Eddie’s POV.

First kiss, sequel to Shoot Your Shot.

*** 

Soon Enough

Rated: T

Steve/Eddie

Modern AU, first kisses, Deaf Steve, ASL

(Content warnings: mentions of childhood neglect/abuse)

Eddie has never, ever once believed in conformity.  And he’s not about to start now.

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up is translated in notes at bottom of this fic)

*** 

Eddie Munson’s life has always been…difficult, to say the least.  Born under a bad sign, Wayne liked to call it, but in a kind of affectionate way.  The way where he’s holding small Eddie who can’t stop crying and wondering why all the other kids in his class have really nice parents who buy them things and, you know, feed them.

Wayne stepped in when he could.  He never failed to show up with food and threats against his brother when he heard Eddie’s tiny, broken voice on the other end of the phone because his dad was too drunk or too high to feed him.  Eventually they struck a deal.  Eddie’s parents disappeared after signing some scary looking paperwork, and Eddie got to pack all his things and move to Wayne’s trailer which was small compared to where his classmates all lived, but nice.

So nice.

Like washing machine and running water nice.

He won’t have to be the smelly kid in class anymore.

He just didn’t realize how reputations clung in small towns.

So suffice it to say that Eddie abhors difficult things—including difficult people.  It’s why, when his little lambs started going on and on and fucking ON about their cool, badass older friend Steve who used to date Nancy, Eddie was determined to never meet him.

It wasn’t just the jealousy.

It was that Steve communicated on a whole other level.  Literally.  He was Deaf.  He went to the Deaf school that wasn’t anywhere near Hawkins and he knew no one, but somehow Steve and his perfect fucking hair was still popular amongst people who weren’t freaked out by the whole, he can’t hear shit, thing.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t jealousy.

It was the fact that Steve was complicated and he used a whole separate language and Eddie just…had no plans to involve himself in that.

Never mind the kids were over the goddamn moon about being able to know ASL.  They communicated with it during campaigns whenever they didn’t want Eddie to know their plans, and—although Eddie actually did look up stuff online about Deaf people (all that stuff about capital D and lowercase d and the community and culture was all very overwhelming) he was pretty sure his little lambs were technically not allowed to make up sign names for all the creatures in their guides.

But they did it anyway and who was Eddie to stop them.

He ended up picking up a few things by osmosis, whether he liked it or not.

But he was determined, damn it.  He existed over here, Steve existed over there, and they all lived happily ever after.

Until the afternoon he walked into Scoops Ahoy.

***

Eddie had actually gone in to bother Robin.  They were sort of outcast friends.  Two freaky little gays at Hawkins High, though she was younger than him and had absolutely no interest in DnD, but they had a shared trauma bond of bullies and bullshit.

He came to a stop when he saw the absurdly good looking guy at the counter who was staring at him in ways no one had ever stared at Eddie.  The way that said he had no idea who Eddie was and it was always great to have a fresh start like that.

Then Eddie fucked up by not reading his badge and realizing exactly who was there.

And like Dustin had once predicted, the second he met Steve’s eyes, he was a gonner.  There was no resisting him.

He was smitten and the hole was too deep for him to claw his way out of.

He went home and looked up a bunch of videos that seemed suspect as fuck, so in the end he called Dustin who showed up at Eddie’s trailer with an arsenal of websites.

“Can’t you just get me, like, a book or something?”  Eddie had asked, feeling intimated and overwhelmed and already kind of tired.

Dustin had given him the bitchiest bitch face that ever bitched.  “You can’t learn ASL from a book, numbnuts.”  Then his hands twisted into the complicated shapes—all fast the way Dustin kept bragging about—and Eddie assumed he was repeating most of what he’d just said.

Eddie damn-well knew that if he actually wanted Steve to say yes to him, he was absolutely going to have to learn because while the kids said Steve could speak, he hated doing it.  And Eddie was the kind of guy who had been rebelling against forced conformity his entire life.

So yeah, he’d rather die than put that choice to Steve.

He learned enough to feel confident going back to the mall.  And Robin was once again playing the long game with Vickie who would literally drag Robin into the cleaning closet and rock her world if Robin only asked—but he knew she wouldn’t.  But it left the perfect opening for Eddie who walked up to the counter, panicked, and immediately forgot everything he’d learned about ASL in the time he’d been away from Steve’s ice cream counter.

In the end, he remembered a little, then tried to backtrack and tell Steve he’d ask him out when he was a little more fluent.

Which made Steve laugh, and Eddie wouldn’t find out until much later that it took at least seven years of immersion to become fluent so…

Yeah it was kind of hilarious.

For Steve.

Mortifying for Eddie.

The blow was softened when Steve touched him—like actually touched him without reservation or hesitation.  And then he told Eddie he didn’t want him to wait.  Eddie was fine as he was—that patience with his language could be a thing and Jesus H Christ Eddie was pretty sure he could die right then.

Except if he died he wouldn’t get the chance to touch Steve back, and kiss him, and make him laugh, and make him make other noises and Jesus H Christ he wanted that so bad he could taste it.  Because he’d been avoiding Steve for what felt like half his new adult life but he was head over heels smitten in two visits to the ice cream shop.

And he didn’t even like ice cream.

He was lactose intolerant for fuck’s sake.

Anyway, he got Steve’s number and he didn’t wait to text.

But the date did.

They planned for the movies and then…

Wayne got hurt at the plant.  He ended up being fine, but it scared the absolute fuck out of Eddie who staying at the hospital until his back hurt from the small chair, and his phone was dead, and he felt like passing out.

The nurses had to kick him out, and Eddie walked out of the room in a fog, and stumbled into the downstairs lobby where he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a familiar, gorgeous head of hair.  Steve was facing away from him with big headphones on, bobbing his head to…music?

Eddie totally didn’t get it, but he couldn’t help himself from walking over and laying a hand on Steve’s shoulder.  He felt like shit when Steve jumped half a foot off the chair, but then his face broke out into a soft, sympathetic smile.

‘Hi.’  It was a simple enough sign that Eddie didn’t have to try for that one.  ‘You OK?’  He signed slow, mouthing the words.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then shrugged.  His fingers felt a little stiff and he wasn’t sure he had the emotional capacity to take embarrassing himself by getting signs wrong no matter how frantically he’d been practicing since the day at the mall.

Steve’s face fell a little more, and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never seen anyone look so…so soft at him before.  He walked around the benches toward Eddie, then yanked him into a hug.  It was so unexpected that Eddie just…melted.  His head pressed against Steve’s headphones which were blaring with music, and Eddie had about a thousand questions but instead he just lost himself in the way that Steve hugged.

It was…a lot.  

Of course, it was mostly that Eddie just never, ever got hugged and all the touching he did was imitated by himself and almost never returned, but that was a different trauma for a different day.

For now he just let himself have this.  Have Steve.  Have the body pressed to his and voiceless permission to kind of shake apart after holding it together for hours, and hours, and hours.

When he pulled back, Steve gave him a cautious smile and Eddie reached up, tapping Steve’s headphones.

‘Hurt?’ Eddie asked. ‘Loud?’

Steve frowned, then rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, turning off his music before pulling them back and draping them around his neck.  He shook his head and shrugged.  ‘Can’t…hear?’  Eddie was pretty sure that was the sign for hear.  Not hearing, which was a little finger twirl under the bottom lip.  ‘Not hurt  Feel it.’

Eddie nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets before remembering—oh shit, I need those to like, talk to Steve, and pulled them out again.

Steve laughed—but he was maybe one of the only people in the world who didn’t seem like he was laughing at Eddie, and wow what a goddamn novelty that was.

Steve tapped his arm and Eddie looked up at him as Steve curled his hand into a C-shape and dragged it down his throat.  ‘Hungry-you?’

He was starved.  He mimicked the sign and remembered the lesson he learned online where he had to exaggerate the sign if he wanted to emphasize what he was saying.  So he ran his C-hand over his throat a few times, then added, ‘Eat, before, work.’  He met his left wrist with his right wrist once with heavy force. He knew that wasn’t right but maybe it was close enough?

Except Steve was suddenly all red in the face and making a choking sound.  Eddie took a step back, but Steve reached out and snagged his arm before he could get too far, shaking his head.

Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be mortified but right then he was mostly curious and uh…yeah.  Steve was touching him again so that was good.

Steve touched the underside of Eddie’s chin and he made an embarrassing noise which Steve must have felt because his grin twitched a little wider.  Then he shook his head.

‘H U N G R Y,’ he spelled very slowly.  He repeated his sign, then added, ‘S T A R V I N G?’  He made a little question mark motion with his finger.  It was weirdly cute, and Eddie didn’t describe things as cute very often.

He nodded. Yeah.  He’d been trying to say starving.

Steve made a noisy sort of huffing sound with some rumble behind it, then squared his shoulders and nodded before raising his right hand.  His left signed, ‘Watch.’

Eddie nodded.

Steve made an exaggerated face and dragged his C-hand down his throat with more force.  ‘Ok?’

Eddie nodded.  Okay, yeah.  He could do that.

Steve wasn’t done.  ‘W O R K?’

Eddie smiled and nodded his fist.  ‘Yes.’

Steve tapped the inside of his right wrist against the back of his left wrist.  ‘Work,’ he signed.

Eddie repeated the sign, and Steve nodded, giving him an enthusiastic thumb’s up.

‘Now- go-you-me.’ Steve signed—Eddie was...pretty sure? God he needed to practice more.

But he answered Steve with a happy, ‘OK,’ and didn’t mind at all when Steve took his hand.

Until suddenly he did mind because…

He dragged Steve to a halt and cleared his throat, pulling out his phone with his free hand and typing as fast as he could, ‘What did I say? Before?  What did I fuck up?’

Steve’s eyes got wide and he waved him off, but Eddie tugged on him until Steve let out a small groan, snatched the phone, and began to type.  Eddie had not one single qualm about reading over his shoulder, and in about five seconds, he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“I signed what?” he demanded aloud, forgetting himself entirely.

Steve looked over his shoulder, his face kind of…different.  Confused?  Full of pity at how fucking pathetic Eddie was?  Embarrassed to know him?

Was he…

Eddie’s thoughts came to a sudden, screeching halt when Steve cradled his face between his hands.  He leaned forward until his lips were practically brushing Eddie’s ear and he whispered aloud, “I’d be happy to fix that problem too.”

Eddie was already pretty sure spontaneous combustion was a thing, and now he was about to be living proof because oh my GOD.  Oh my... god oh my god oh my…

Steve dragged a thumb over Eddie’s lower lip, then raised his brows like he was asking, ‘Is this okay?’

Eddie nodded frantically and Steve began walking him backward until his back suddenly hit…oh.  It was a tree.  The bark was sharp against his bare elbow, but all of that ceased to matter the second Steve’s lips touched his.  It wasn’t a wild, desperate kiss of star-crossed lovers in the books Eddie secretly read.

No, it was soft.  It was gentle.

It was warm and it was fucking needy as hell but it was also the first kiss in a line of what Eddie was determined to have as many, many, many as he could.  As many as Steve would allow.

For the rest of their lives, God help them both.

Steve gently licked into Eddie’s mouth before finally pulling away, and the stress of Wayne being hurt and then him thoroughly embarrassing himself, he wasn’t hard or anything, but there was definitely a sort of humming desire under his skin which were as warm as his hands were because they...

Oh.

He looked down and realized that he’d rucked up Steve’s shirt and was digging his fingers into Steve’s bare hips.  ‘Sorry,’ he signed, dislodging one hand.

Steve laughed—a quiet huff mostly through his nose, and he shook his head before stealing a last kiss.  Eddie wanted to chase it, but he forced himself to keep his back to the tree as Steve dug into his pocket for his phone again.

‘For now,” he wiggled his phone.  ‘Until we can spend more time together and I can teach you more,’ Steve typed out.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then nodded.  ‘Why are you here?’

Steve frowned like he was confused why Eddie would even ask that. ‘Dustin said your uncle was hurt.  I didn’t want you to be alone when they kicked you out.’

Those words, that simple fucking act of kindness, was almost too much.  The emotions overwhelmed him and he wanted to laugh, and cry, and scream, and fucking sing until his throat seized up and he lost his voice.

He stared at the phone screen until Steve dragged a tender touch across the top of his hand, and he looked up.

‘Come home with me tonight.  Sleep,’ Steve typed before shoving his phone back into his pocket without waiting for Eddie’s answer.  He knew he should probably say no because they hadn’t even had their date yet, but then again, Eddie had never been conventional.

Never would be conventional.

He rubbed a flat palm over his chest.  ‘Please.’

Steve’s eyes darkened, just for a second.  Eddie panicked before he realized that no, he’d gotten the sign just right.  Steve was just maybe thinking of other ways Eddie might use that sign and…yeah.

Shit yeah.

Maybe not now.  Not tonight.  Not even very soon.

But soon enough.

Steve linked their fingers together and tugged…

And Eddie followed.

*** 

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up.  Common mistake in ASL- Hungry=Horny.  Work=Fuck.  Steve is kind of okay with that idea too lol)