#people don’t understand how terrifying it is to do that and the strength you need to stick with it

[inkykeiji]

i keep reading that lil story u shared and that’s just so heartbreakingly cute(?) idk,, i’m sending him good vibes

aw anon!!! 🥺🥺🥺 this is really sweet :(( i understand what you mean! it’s stuck with me for years, especially the way he said it like the ‘i can’t—i can’t take you out just yet’ was so,,, honestly i don’t even have a word to describe it. really earnest, maybe? not desperate or begging but a genuine hey, i’m getting out of here soon and i’d really love to take you on a date the moment i can. i dunno, it was really endearing! i really do wanna write something inspired by it 🥺 i sincerely hope he’s doing wonderful <3

[willyoubemycherryy]

Intimacy Cues (C. Kent)

Summary: Who better to teach you how to talk body when you never learned the language?

Contains: smut AND plot so it’s long,depressing past, the college au you all secretly needed, struggles with physical touch, struggles with any form of intimacy, one mild panic attack, Clark is understanding but hot, dumb ideas, hugging, bonding, kissing, making out, it starts off shaky then soft but quickly snowballs into horn-e central, size kink, slight dumbification, strength kink, first kisses, virginity kept but not for long just give me till the second part, Clark is a little infatuated, they’re so nasty about each other my word, grinding, kissing (no forreal), prayer bc we all need it

A/N- my stomach is fine, it wasn’t a tumor but a blockage because of something I ate that never digested, causing my tummy to bloat and swell but they fixed me up so I’m back😈

. .* ੈ✩‧���•

“Nononono- no, stop!!”

This might be the worst decision of your entire life.

Clark pulls away again, looking down at you with his eyebrows drawn together in concern but also exasperation because-

“Hey! It’s okay- you’re okay. Remember…you were the one who asked for my help.” He didn’t say the obvious “but we’re not getting any farther” part out loud but it echoes through your head all the same and you breathe out a deep sigh; regretting it with the depths of your very being but, yes. You did ask him for his help.

Help with what? The answer would’ve ended your social life if anyone who wasn’t Clark had found out.

You needed his help with…closeness- intimacy.

Growing up you were always awkward. Not in a charming way or even unconventional, you just simply didn’t make the cut based by society’s standards. You were always too gangly, too weird, too timid; so imagine the surprise come middle of highschool to now college where you’ve finally grown into yourself.

You know how you like to dress and which clothes look hottest on you, you know what hairstyle suits best for your face shape, you’re still weird but you’re also sarcastic which somehow equals charm to people and you’ve also managed to come out of your shell a bit. Becoming more confident from people naturally gravitating towards you after your blooming stage and even more after letting your friends convince you to join your college’s cheerleading team. You’d become everything you wanted to always try.

Pretty, popular, and fun. The problem?

Thanks to how much of a late bloomer you were, you never got the chance to get comfortable with others intimately during your formative years. Nobody liked you in that way and you were terrified of embarrassing yourself so there was nothing. No first kiss, no first dance with a boy, hell- even now you still get uneasy when others stare at you too long. Hiding behind your image as a college sweetheart made everything you were still to unsettled to try easier. Don’t misunderstand; it wasn’t that you never wanted those things, it’s that you’re not used to others suddenly picking you for those kinds of things after being invisible and missing out on them for almost all your life to the point where you don’t know how to deal with it when those moments do happen.

Still, you acted like everything was fine.

Playing the role of pretty cheerleader- the flirty tease that was favored by many even though that favor was shallow as a tear on a hot day. You pretended. And it was working, nobody knew���or so you believed.

Cue to one of the football teams parties where you’d been flirting with a guy, coy smile painted on your face as you giggled softly whenever he spoke, batting your pretty eyes at him in your little mini skirt. It had been going well until he suddenly leaned closer, focusing solely on you and when you felt the heat of his skin from how close he was- it felt as if the color had drained from your face, leaving you frozen as you became so uncomfortable it was visible; nerves screaming at you to flee until you listened. Spinning on your heels and bolting, trying to calm your breathing enough to will the cotton out of your ears.

You didn’t realize it then but a certain pair of blue eyes had been watching the whole thing. He’s always seen you. Which is funny because you almost always actively avoid him. In fact, he’s seen you enough to know that this isn’t the first time you’ve had that reaction and one day after a particularly rough week of endless pondering over you; he decides to just ask you after practice is over. Clark waits until his and your friends leave, it being only you and him on the field when he starts to walk over to you. The sound of incoming footsteps make you look up and when you see him, he can hear the very second your heart stops; skipping a beat before it quickly begins to thrum out of rhythm.

Honestly, there genuinely are not enough words to describe how attractive Clark Kent was. He was so incomprehensibly beautiful that you avoided Clark altogether just to avoid getting a headache from staring at him for too long especially since the real suffering started when he’d smile. Seemingly perfect pearly white straight teeth but when his grin broadened, his sharp canines would show, leaving you breathless every time. The type of good looking that was flat out overwhelming. Besides being apart of adjacent stereotypes, you two didn’t go together but there was no animosity.

Clark stops and you have to look up at him because of his hulking size. At almost 6’4 he nearly dwarfed you and his proportions matched. Thick, beefy everything- everywhere and you swallow before forcing a smile on your face. While you preferred to avoid him for the sake of keeping yourself out of the psych ward from how crazy he could drive you; you were still curious as to why he came to talk to you. He takes a moment to just look at you, cerulean eyes almost glowing but he doesn’t realize how intense his stare is until you start to shuffle on your feet- dainty hands twitching nervously at your side and that’s when he speaks.

“Hey…I know we don’t usually talk or anything but are you okay?” Even his voice is dreamy but confusion draws on your face because you felt fine; nervous, like you were around any guy you thought was cute, but fine. Clark elaborates at your expression,

“Y’know because of what happened at the party last-”, that seems to jog your memory enough to snap you out of it, eyebrows shooting up as dread overtakes over your face. You whip your head around, making sure there’s no witnesses when you grab him by his sweaty shirt, dragging him all the way behind the bleachers as you slam him against the metal. Clark is caught so off guard that he just lets it happen; lets the pretty thing half his size drag him as you pleased. Your eyes shift as you glare up at him.

You’re positive he’s talking about your little freak out with close proximity guy, the one that made you leave the party completely; walking so fast you nearly burned a trail in the carpet. Heart pounding, you start to spiral.

He wasn’t supposed to see that. He like everyone else- was supposed to be too drunk to notice anything.

Your nose scrunches, full lips curling in a snarl. “I swear if you say anything to anyone-!” You’re threatening him so fast, Clark falters, raising his hands in defense, debilitating blue eyes widening as he starts to plead his case.

“No no-! I didn’t! I-“, He stutters at your harsh gaze, the feel of your hands soaking through his shirt, warming his chest. He needs to hurry up and explain himself before you start disliking him. “I was just worried! Whenever I see you and a guy, even if you act interested-“, he rushes out, panting as he talks even faster, “the second they get too close you look like you’ll vomit!” Your hostility melts into shock and even more confusion and you let go of his shirt, stepping back as you study him, his words stuck in your mind.

“How..? Are you- you’ve been paying that close attention to me? When do you even see me?” You’re at such a loss for words that it’s hard to string them together to properly question him.

“…I”, he swallows harshly, “I always see you.” It’s pure adrenaline that motors his mouth- he thought he was over the time when lovely faced girls made him nervous but you were unexpectedly feisty. It lit something tingly in him. Your eyes search his face and he spills. “I see how you flirt but you’re sarcastic too. Everyone is so taken by your pretty that they don’t even notice, they just call it ‘wit”, he manages to catch his breath enough to sound less panicked now that you look like you won’t kill him, “I see how even though you’re a flyer, you hate heights-”

“H-how-?”

“Your right leg shakes when they lift you, no matter how stable your base is.” Your mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out, heart racing when his voice goes soft,

“But what I’m saying is- so what that you’re not really what you give off? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. ‘Jus curious why you think it is…”, he blinks those long lashes at you and you find yourself explaining the tale of your sordid social past.

By the end of it he’s stunned speechless.

You? Just how bad was your awkward phase for nobody to be interested in you? Wait so that also probably meant that-

“You’re a virgin?!”

You slap your hands over his mouth with a speed equal to his own, face flushed as you shush him, hissing in a low whisper.

“Jesus Chri- shut up! Are you trying to tell the entire campus?!!” You let out another heavy sigh.

“…yes, I am”. You let your hands fall to the side, refusing to look at him while he’s trying to process; silence filling the space between you. You’ve accepted that your ego will never recover from the most gorgeous being on the planet knowing about all your…truths. That you looked and acted the part of a vixen just to hide that you secretly weren’t.

“…so you’ve never done anyt-”,

“No.”

Well then.

You can’t take another long drag of awkward silence, turning to face the boy who knew you probably more than anyone else did.

“Look- I would’ve loved to remedy this but I-”

“Can’t stomach whenever a guy gets too close due to previous deep rooted societal wrought insecurities…” Bingo.

“Well for what it’s worth,” he gives you one of his disarming grins and a flush creeps up your neck; warming your ears, “I think you’re doing fine now.” You snap your head down to see that you two are standing fairly close or at least closer than you normally allow and you don’t have that itch to get him as far away from you as possible. That’s when you get the idea that- “Oh my god! You can help me get over my thing! This is perfect!”! You’re practically vibrating with glee, excited to finally have all your firsts without that looming of touch related dread haunting you. Clark however is swarmed with various images of him “helping” you and can’t keep his ears from reddening at all the different scenarios where he’d be required to be close to you and begins to stutter.

“W-well, I wa- not that I-! I don’t think that’s a good idea, I mean w-we-”, you cut him off before he can weasel out of it, eyebrows creasing in frustration. You unconsciously step closer, your sweet smell bathes his senses as he stares you down, trying not to gulp too hard. “Please, Clark?”, you start and he swallows harshly at how his name sounds in that whiny tone from your lips.

“It can’t be anyone else because you’re the only one who knows! We’re not close now but we could be-“, and the double meaning makes him tune out completely as he only watches your plump lips move; not even registering the sound coming from them. He was thankful you didn’t ask him why he watched you so closely because the answer was one he wasn’t ready to even admit to himself.

Your lips stop moving after a while and them paired with your begging doe eyes make him cave, Clark nodding in hopeless defeat. He was supposed to be over the influence of pretty girls.

“S’okay, I’ll help you out. Your secret’s safe with me.” The corner of his mouth tilts up in a lopsided smile that was somehow both attractive but made you feel safe and you smile shyly back. You were nervous but you know Clark is a good guy- reckless as hell with his charms- but a good guy. What could go wrong?

•

•

•

Standing in the middle of your dorm room with your arms wound tight around yourself is when you find out that alot can go wrong.

Clark came over and you two came up with a starting plan that seemed the easiest: talk and slowly close the distance between you two until he was touching and looking at you without you getting uncomfortable or pushing him away. It sounded simple enough at first only…. you severely underestimated how you’d react to Clark. The way his deep mellow voice sounded in your ears, how he always held such steady eye contact as he moved towards you, that heavenly jawline tilting when he’d think too long. Already, Clark was big from afar but up close he was even bigger. Strong arms and broad shoulders; chest so thick it was noticeable through his shirt. You were used to others falling at your feet but Clark stood fine and it affected you in ways you didn’t prepare to deal with, so you tried to do what you always did- ignore it.

Matching Clark’s light conversation as you two eventually get more comfortable, gradually gravitating towards each other with slow short steps. The air shifts when you exhale and the breath tickles his chest. This is when you normally get squeamish but you merely hesitate for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and pushing yourself by letting him keep his distance.

His hand twitch and he shuffles a bit closer, biceps flexing as he reaches out, resting his hands on your shoulders; your conversation quiets as he stares at you with perfectly blue lidded eyes and then you feel the stirrings of restlessness under your skin. That impeding urge to get away. Despite the way you feel, the slow atmosphere helps you tremendously to not pull away but your pulse spikes all the same. His hands felt nice. You take another deep breath as you try to come to terms with what you were feeling.

Clark was a guy.

A guy who was standing in your bubble, touching you- looking at you.

A million emotions fly across your face at record speed and Clark doesn’t move any more for the next couple minutes. No, he waits for you; large rough palms warm on your bare shoulders while his pinky idly messes with the thin strap of your top. Your skin was soft. The heavy rise and fall of your chest has him focusing on you more intensely, trying to get a read on how you felt until you break the silence with a shaky exhale.

“We can keep going- you can keep touching me.” He knows you don’t mean it that way but his ears burn anyways as he nods. Taking a second to think before taking his hands off you to take yours, ignoring your big eyes look as he places your hands around his waist- inevitably moving closer and his voice softens like he’ll frighten you away if he were to speak any louder.

“You can touch me too. Promise I don’t mind…this is for you after all.” You suppress a whine because being so close was already hard with you fighting every instinct yelling at you to get gone and go somewhere where nobody could comprehend you but now with Clark staring at you like that, it was even harder. Your eyes flick about the room as you flatten your palms more against his back, mentally rolling your eyes back at how his muscles feel. You don’t even realize you’re biting your lip but Clark does, instantly alert the second he felt your small hands nervously press against him, his eyes zeroed in on the swollen skin dipping under the pressure of your teeth. He feels bad because while he was supposed to be helping you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy you were being so shy but hardheaded enough to build up the grit to go for what scared you because you wanted it.

Without taking his eyes off your face, he rubs his hands up to your neck, making you squeak before smoothing them back down your shoulders; repeating the motions with a gentle hum.

The room feels hot- you felt hot and jittery but it’s too much. Unable to keep the waves at bay, goosebumps trickle over your skin and your eyes scrunch in panic as your breathing picks up. He was close. Close and touching you. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes because you know when you do, you’ll be naked for all to see and you scream.

“Stop!”

Nobody can see you-nobody’s supposed to be seeing you, the girl who was never even chose last as you were overlooked entirely no matter how badly you wanted to reach out. Maybe that’s what started your fear. Maybe you were scared of losing experiences because of rejection.

Clark doesn’t move away but he isn’t touching you anymore and you aren’t touching him as your hands fly to the sides of your head, trying to calm yourself down and guilt pours over him. He wants to hug you; comfort you but he knows that pulling you against him in a hug will only worsen things right now so he waits. Closing his eyes to help you feel at ease, listening closely to the beat of your heart until your breaths quiet and he hears it fluctuate back to normal. He keeps his eyes closed until he feels your small trembling hands slide back around him and instead of putting his hands on your shoulders, he moves his arms around them; resting them against your back but not pulling you in yet. It’s quiet besides the hushed sounds of him cooing at you and your breathing. The air now has an underlying current and you shift in his heavy arms, inhaling deeply as you finally look up at his face. Shyly, you cut the silence; voice soft as how you feel.

“…you can open your eyes now..” Clark feels his own heart speed up before he responds, low tone matching yours and electricity hits you when it clicks. This is intimate.

“Are you okay? We can stop and try again some other time; I don’t wanna upset-,”

“I want you to look at me.”

His eyes pop open at your command, peering down at you in such a way that your breath catches; anxiousness rising up you again but you stay right where you are. Willing yourself to embrace the exposed way he makes you feel.

Under the heat of his stare it’s like he’s seeing everything you’ve ever hid or been but his hold is steady enough to let you know he’s there with you and he’s not going anywhere. You still feel naked but more than that, you feel safe. Comfortable enough to not shy away from his warmth, you take another breath; looking up at him through your lashes- making his head fuzzy.

His eyes shift from their usual blue to the shade of the sea after a storm and you’re swept away, logic going with you as you slowly glide your hands up his sides to his where his arms hold you. Feeling every dip and curve of his strong build until you reach his hands, repositioning them around your lower back. You move closer but because you two were already standing so close- your chests touch and Clark stops breathing. The soft swell of your breasts move against his body with your every inhale and he finds his senses filled with you.

Your gaze is torn away when you turn your head, looking down as you drop against his chest. Arms looping around him making his own instinctively curl around you, holding you tight to the firm but soft muscle of his chest. You both pause for a few minutes- waiting for the urgent panic but it never comes. Instead, you melt into him with a relieved sigh, warm breath bleeding into his shirt. You two were officially hugging.

And you were in heaven.

You never knew close contact with the opposite gender could be so delightful. Clark was just so big and warm and smelled so good, you bury your face into the meat of his pec almost deliriously, sighing happily. Fuck, you really had been missing out. His arms are firm and heavy against your back, effectively locking you against him. The endorphin rush hitting you has you practically purring; the sounds of your bliss vibrating Clark’s chest and he smiles, letting you get your fix as he enjoys the way you fit into his arms.

Unsurprisingly, you two stay like that for a while. Fitted against each other in the silence of your cozy bedroom. He sees the top of your head move and he’s suddenly looking into your eyes, pupils blown so wide that your eyes are black. Clark has to bite his lip to keep from smiling at how cute you look. Your eyes flit down to his mouth to see the peek of his fangs that always show, letting out a small breathy ‘oh’ when you do. You’re still reeling in all the best ways as you rest your chin against his chest, unabashedly looking at his handsome face.

Clark raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the phantom hearts in your eyes and the way your small feet are standing on top of his larger ones while you make no attempt to separate your bodies, completely content with his proximity. He likes you so he likes your closeness and he’s even more elated that you seem to like him being so close too. Speaking lowly so he doesn’t disturb you, he checks if you’re still on the planet with him.

“This okay, sweetheart? Y’enjoying yourself?” The petname slips out but you don’t move or rush to correct him as your blood simmers, a numbingly pleasant heat washing over you so strong it’s hard to think. Running your hands in a slow caress up his back, you feel the muscles flex as his arm twitches and a smile grows on your face as you blink dumbly- brain currently taking a break, you mumble sweetly,

“Mmhm, yeah never better.”

And it’s true. You’ve never felt this safe, this free with anyone that wasn’t immediate family or your best girl friends. He was touching you and seeing you but you didn’t care because you knew whatever he was seeing and touching, was safe as it would ever be with him.

Clark huffs out a laugh at your belated response, moving one of his hands in a warm caress up your back, feeling you shiver and he bites his lip again. You were so alluring without even having to try and he breathes to reign himself in since he was currently the first and only to have you melting like this from a hug alone. If a hug got you like this he could only imagine how beautifully you’d respond to-

“Um, C-Clark?” Your soft voice brings him back as he hums, flicking his eyes down lazily at you.

“Yeah, baby?” Your sweet little gasp makes him realize that he just called you another nickname but you don’t seem to mind, flustering prettily in his arms. He leans down closer to your face, only to hear you better, eyes patient as he stares at you.

“I know this is supposed to be about me but how do you feel? You’ve been so good with me..I just wanna make sure you’re okay too.” Clark smiles, moved that you’re worrying about him even with all his experience.

“Yeah I feel good but how about you? Want me to let go or we can try something different?” He would’ve asked if you wanted to stop but he was going off your body language and it was telling him distance was the last thing you wanted and he was right as you shook your head before resting your chin back into his chest, looking up at him with those pupil eclipsed doe eyes.

“I feel great but…”, your voice gets smaller as it takes on an almost needy tone before stopping altogether. You snap your face back into his chest and he’s even more curious to get it out of you but you just can’t say it.

“You really don’t need to be embarrassed. Clothed or naked, we all start somewhere”, he whispers against the top of your head, stroking your back soothingly as you try to talk yourself into asking him before you chicken out, “with me you can start wherever you want and you know I’ll never tell. Or make fun of you..”,

His voice is tender with warmness and it turns your reservations to raindrops as you look back into his eyes. Steeling your nerve, you ground yourself with the way you feel in another persons arms for the first time in your life- his arms and decide to go for it.

“You said- we can try something different?” Your heart begins to race again as Clark’s starts to pound. He can’t keep the heat out of eyes as he returns your stare, nodding.

“Yeah. We can do whatever you want.” His breath wafts across your face, forehead resting against yours and the rate at which you find yourself needing him- scares you. You’ve been depraved of this kind of contact to the point of fear since forever but now…

“Then…can we-“, you blink rapidly, not wanting to verbalize it but not wanting to go without even more.

“Can we kiss please?”

Clark has to shut his eyes. You looked so sweet, felt so soft and even though you couldn’t keep the neediness from seeping into your words, you still asked so politely. Blood rushes through his ears as he feels a familiar stirring in his groin, taking a deep breath because it wouldn’t do for him to lose control now, his voice is heady with pure want when he answers,

“F’course. I’d love to kiss, baby.”

Large hands settle around your waist as you get pulled completely flush to him, legs almost intertwining while your pelvises touch; bodies glued together. The languid heat of arousal thrums through you, making your head spin.

Your lips part when Clark presses his forehead more firmly against yours, lighting you from the inside out when he dips his neck to slot his open mouth over yours.

Immediately your chest burns, heart feeling like each pump is gasoline, fueling the fire hes started in you. Clark’s full lips slide against yours, alternating between suckling at your top lip then bottom lip slowly, coaxing you to follow his lead, groaning his approval and the sound turns you up as you press yourself harder against his body. You feel so good you’re thrumming- heat steadily pulsing through you.

Your heads move from how hard you’re kissing, slick sounds coming from your mouths intensifying as you get rougher, delicious shivers all up your spine. Clark presses his lips fully against yours, moving them open wider with his own, hot breaths mingling as he licks hotly against the opening of your mouth. A bolt of pleasure hits you so hard that you gasp, wrenching your mouth off his as you moan- the needy little thing so whiny it makes his cock fatten in his pants as you pant against each others lips. Fuck. He can smell how wet you are. The sweet, heady smell makes his mouth water with him tossing shame clean out the window.

“Can I put my tongue in your mouth? Please, pretty girl?” You move your arms around his neck to get as close as possible, nodding desperately.

“God, yes-!” His mouth is back to consuming yours before you finish. Opening your lips with the force of his swollen ones, he sucks your bottom lip before lapping his tongue into your mouth. You twitch in his hold, even more turned on when he doesn’t have to move to keep your squirming in place, casual show of strength making you lightheaded as he swallows your moans. Wet smacks fill the air, your grip on him tightening when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. You get wetter and he can tell, growling in pleasure as he suddenly lifts you; your legs locking around his waist as he uses his hold on yours to grind you against him. The result is instantaneous. You melt like cotton candy, chest shaking against his from your pleasured moans as your shared spit wets your lips. Still aware of the fact that you need to breathe, Clark pulls away with a suck of your lips- staring at you hungrily with dark eyes.

He can’t even remember when he picked you up but the tiny undulations of your hips let him know it was a welcome decision. You looked so good. Lips puffy n slick, doe eyes teary and blown out, wet as fuck with your hard nipples poking through your top…you could ask him for every one of Saturns rings and he’d get them for you.

Clark takes a deep lungful of your tantalizing scent before he checks on you again.

“How was that, sweetheart? Y’first kiss right?” You nod, cupping his face. You can’t help the way you smooch more pecks onto his pink lips, aching as you answer.

“It was so good”, you drag your nose down his jaw; kissing his ear as you whisper into it, “you feel so good, Clark..”. You have him completely hard at this point, thick and fat as his tip oozes pre when you start to whine. He almost feels bad that you’ve waited so long, being so pent up wasn’t good and you deserved to feel good everyday.

“What’s wrong baby?” The low timbre of his voice makes your pulse skyrocket, causing you to absolutely dissolve against him, hips twitching as he helped you rub yourself on him.

“I-I need..-“, you let out a soft cry and he quickly soothes you. Kissing you deeply before pulling away, licking his lips of your taste as he verbalizes exactly what you need.

“Need to cum?”

The heat in your chest blooms up to your face as you nod, suddenly growing shy but still comfortable. You purr as Clark presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, looking at you with pretty lidded eyes.

“Would it be okay if I made you cum princess?”

The utterly wrecked moan that comes out of your mouth has goosebumps scattering up his arms, holding you tighter as you nod vigorously.

“I need words baby”, he whispers. Giving you another kiss to tempt you and it works. He was too irresistible and he knew it.

“Yeah, you can make me cum Clark.” And with that he carries you over to your bed, laying you on the plushness as he takes over your mouth again with a hungry groan, your hands touching everywhere until he pulls away- fangs on display as he smiles making fire sweep through your veins.

Massaging your legs, he rises on his knees- taking off his shirt as your mind checks out from how hot he is, shifting restlessly as the ache in your pussy throbs with the best pain. Whining his name, Clark cooes at you; big hands moving to pull your clothes off. Your nerves are going haywire but you need this- need him to make you feel things, lifting your hips to help him slide your shorts and underwear off, spreading your legs as you let him get a good look at your messy wet hole twitching in need.

Clark swears, hooking his hands under your knees and bending them towards your chest. Exposing you more as he licks his lips, keeping his eyes glued to your cunt.

“Atta girl, jus’ lay there nice n pretty and I’ll give you what you need..”

[divinesangel]

— why people are jealous of you [detailed]

pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal reading! — 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

people see you and they don’t always understand. they are jealous of you, not because of what you have, but because of how you carry yourself. there’s a quiet strength in the way you move, in how you know what you want, how you’ve always been so sure, so grounded. you’ve always known what you want, clear and unwavering, standing firm in your choices. there’s a steadiness in you, a calm certainty that others struggle to find in themselves.

it unnerves them, because where they doubt, you are grounded. when they question, you are sure. you seem so complete, like you’ve mapped out your life and found your way, while they’re still wandering. and instead of looking inside themselves, they project their envy onto you, as if your certainty reflects their own uncertainty. they feel the pull of you—how others are drawn to you without even trying. they see the way you move through the world, pulling people in without effort, and it stirs something in them. envy. insecurity. they can’t quite explain it, but they feel it.

there’s something in your warmth, hidden at first beneath that cool surface. when people first meet you, they might mistake you for someone cold, distant. but as time passes, and you let your guard down just a little, they see what others have already seen—that warmth, that care that runs deep in you. it’s rare, the way you care so deeply, so genuinely. and that, too, makes them jealous. you are genuine in a way that’s hard to find, and that makes you stand out even more. the ones who already feel insecure around you, they feel this too, and it only fuels their envy. they see you as someone who can draw opportunities toward you without trying, someone who doesn’t need to push so hard. you just are. you follow your instincts, and things seem to fall into place. it’s like they’re in competition with you, even though you’ve never played that game.

they think things come easy for you, that you don’t have to try as hard, but they don’t see the work behind the ease, the quiet effort. they battle within themselves. part of them knows you’re not their enemy, that you’ve worked for everything, and that maybe, you’re even on their side, trying to help. but the other part, the envious part, pulls them back, makes them feel small in comparison to you. they know, deep down, that you’re going to succeed, and it terrifies them. that you are destined for something bigger. and while they fight their own feelings, they can’t help but see you as someone complete, someone who has figured it all out. they feel the weight of their own uncertainty when they look at you, because you remind them of what they’re still searching for. and it’s not your fault, but it makes them feel like they’re not enough. in their eyes, you’re already living the life they wish they could have, and that’s what tears them apart. but it’s their own doubts they’re really wrestling with, not you. you’re just the mirror they don’t want to look into.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

many people feel it, the quiet envy, watching the way you’ve come to treat yourself, like someone worth tending to, someone who knows their worth. you’ve been through it—transformations that have left you raw, broken open. maybe you come from a troubled past, maybe it was love or friendships that drained you, left you wrecked and empty. but you took that wreckage and rebuilt. you changed, over and over, until you became someone new. and it shows now, that transformation, it rises to the surface like light breaking through.

they see it, that shift, and there’s jealousy in how you've moved through things they can't fathom. they wonder how you’ve managed to endure so much and still come out strong, still doing well. they watch, but they don’t understand it—how you’re always changing, always moving forward. it’s like change is part of your blood now. when life turns, when things don’t go your way, you shift. you redirect yourself, finding the better path. and this ability of yours bothers them. they feel stuck, caught in places you’ve long outgrown. the distance between you widens, and they feel the emptiness in themselves more deeply because of it. they watch you keep moving, eyes always on the horizon, while they hesitate, afraid of what lies beyond their small view.

despite your past, despite the weight of what you’ve been through, you still hold hope for what’s to come. your vision, who you want to be, who you’ll allow into your life, it’s all clear now. instead of breaking, you’ve taken your wounds and made them into armor. you wear your scars with strength, but still so soft, never pretending to be more than you are. you are honest about your journey, open about what it’s taken to get here.

and this is what unsettles them. they can’t face their own cracks, their own unhealed wounds. they watch from a distance, filled with a passive longing, a quiet bitterness. your heart is full, and they see that. they see how you’re not afraid of the unknown, how you’re building a life that reflects what you want, even if it’s still in pieces. and they can’t grasp how you find contentment in the progress, how you’ve taken nothing and built it into something beautiful. you’re getting what you wished for, piece by piece, and that stirs something in them, something they can’t quite name. they want that strength, that quiet power, but they haven’t healed enough to claim it for themselves. so they watch, unsettled, as you thrive.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

there's a sense of peace in your life that unsettles others, a peace that runs deeper than happiness. it's not just contentment, it's a kind of emotional depth they can’t touch, can’t understand. you’ve built something solid—your own home, your own space, a belonging so sure of itself, it shakes them. while they skim the surface, jumping from moment to moment, you’re grounded. you know how to build connections that last, that matter. it’s that steadiness, that contentment, that upsets them the most. you don’t boast about it, don’t need to. but they see it. they see you living in a place they can’t reach, and it leaves them feeling empty, like something inside them is missing.

sometimes, this feels less like a general crowd and more like one person, someone who feels unsettled just by how you move through the world. you have this way about you, this ability to create connections and tend to them, to take care of the people who choose you. and when a friendship goes wrong, when something turns nasty, it’s not your fault. you know how to hold onto people, how to keep that peace around you. so when things fall apart, it’s not a reflection of you. they see your calm, your balance, the way you move forward without rushing, without crumbling, and it makes them uneasy.

you’ve found a middle ground, where you can grow and stay strong, without falling apart. and that community you’ve built, the people around you—it’s strong. or maybe you just know how to get along with everyone. there’s something approachable in you, something that draws people in, makes them want to know you. but that can make others jealous. it’s a double-edged sword, meeting so many people and letting them in. but you see through it all. you don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment, and you’re not cold either. you have a clarity, a way of seeing people and situations for what they are.

you’ve learned to protect yourself, to keep out those who don’t belong. you know your worth, your value. you’ve built this, and you protect it fiercely. you only want healthy, nurturing relationships, and you’re careful about who you let in. that makes people uneasy, too. you don’t let strange energies into your space, because you’ve worked hard to protect your peace. in the past, there were friendships that hurt, that didn’t understand you, that crossed your boundaries. but now, you guard yourself, and not everyone can handle that. they can’t handle how sure you are, how much you’ve grown, how much you’ve learned to care for yourself. you’ve come a long way, and not everyone can keep up.

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €7 and soulmate readings for €14 so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

[josephquinnswhore]

Little bird - joel miller x female reader

summary: joel is a merciless hunter for sport, seeking many anew victim when he comes across you. who changes everything.

word count: 3.8k

content warning: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE CONSUMING. joel is basically a psycho? he kills for sport, control freak, stalking, murder, dubcon, age gap, power dynamic, manipulation, gaslighting, forceful face fucking, reader spews on Joel’s cock, blood play, forced proximity, m orgasm, fingering, m and f oral receiving, f orgasm, pet names such as; little bird, birdie, princess, daddy.

Joel had adapted to the outbreak effortlessly, without thought, like a bird jumping from its nest, like instinct. It is in his nature alike to theirs, to adapt through the conditions to ensure survival for their species without second thought for consequence. Even after what had happened to his daughter.

The instance of her unnecessary death had sent Joel spiral into this mindset, serial killing and torture. Not even out of necessity, supplies, he just found a sense of control in the act.

He is constantly covered in blood, his hands, neck and clothes all had stains on them. But he found comfort in the act of squeezing his large hands around someone’s frail neck, seeing the light fade from their eyes.

Paired travellers were his preference. The men always tried to be heroes, and Joel found it amusing that they always thought they’d beat him in battle, underestimating Joel's pent up rage and obsession for control. His strength is unmatched—survival skill and pure animalistic rage is channelled with each plea for mercy.

He’d seen many people around him change, good hearted folk who had clawed so far deep into the instinctual rage of strength and determination within themselves. Just so they had what it takes to survive this world.

But Joel—this darkness was raging inside of him before the outbreak, before any real need to access this side for survival had even come into play. With decades of experience, he had become skilled at stalking, especially. Observing.

Often he had thoughts about doing bad things to women and men that he acted out on. He couldn’t find a goddamn ounce of sympathy within himself as he hunted people, stalking his next victims through every state and terrain.

It was sport for Joel, a comfort as he realises that everyone’s life is in his hands, that he gets to decide who lives and dies. That he remained victorious. Too brutal and savage for anyone to defeat.

Notoriously good at what he did, he had more blood on his hands than probably anyone, finding the stalking as exhilarating as the kill.

It had never been anything more than that, until now.

Until he had seen you, two days prior.

He had taken one glance at you, and his feet of their own accord, had started trailing you. Following from a distance as the memorises the size and depth of your footprints in the snow. Since then, he’d been listening in on the two of you bickering about how lost you were, namely you—terrified about where you were, and where you were going.

Walking through the thick snowfall of the mountains, carrying that overloaded bag that made your shoulders sag. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d see your face crumble in pain as you try to adjust the straps of the bag, or beg the young man you traveled with to put some items into his own bag to take some weight off your shoulders.

Watching every interaction between you and this man from the past two days, he could conclude that he was your boyfriend. He hated this boy, the way he walked ahead of you, made you keep first watch after a gruelling day of travelling.

You don’t argue or seem to mind which Joel concedes is a product of this being a constant for you.

He gathers that more than likely, you didn’t understand how you were being taken advantage of. That this boy didn’t care about you, not the way he did.

The thought infuriated him, sending a rush of heat through his body as he clutched onto the falling bark of a tree he had hidden behind, observing you through the forest, the only thing that separates you from him, is a small clearance of flat ground to your small, makeshift camp.

A natural formation of a cave like structure made of rock. All you had to keep you warm was a freying sleeping bag and the arms of the boy wrapped around you.

Joel thinks about all the ways he’d take care of you. Giving you his thick, insulated winter coat, lighting a fire for you in his cabin. Keeping watch the entire evening so you could rest your fragile body.

The more he thinks, the more he fuels his own obsession. He wonders what your skin feels like under his own sinful ones, wonders what your cries would sound like, if you’d give into him or run.

For the first time in years, he doesn’t want to kill, he doesn’t plan on wrapping his thick hands around your neck to crush your oesophagus. He doesn’t think about reaching for his sharpened hunting blade and driving it to the hilt into the soft, warm flesh of your neck.

No, you were different. So pretty, so mistreated. He had to take care of you. Bring you into his warm hands like an injured bird in need of delicate care.

You’re exhausted beyond belief. The old boots you wear are barely holding together, even with the duct tape you’d wrapped around the collapsing soul, and even that was wearing off the front of the shoe.

You know you can’t risk sliding them off for a moment to dig your fingers into your heels to relieve the ache, in fear of infected, or people.

It’s not ideal to stop here, in the middle of the snowfall, freezing your asses off. You’re so lost, and afraid.

There’s a sense of bitterness rising inside of you as you watch your boyfriend sleep, you love him, with each beat of your heart… but you needed to sleep too. If only.

Hours pass of you staring into the clearance of trees and snow, of nothing. Not a bird, not a wisp of wind. The lack of anything happening only fuelled the burning in your dried eyes, lulling them to close, just for a moment.

You don’t know that you’d fallen asleep, standing upright against the tree you were keeping watch from until you’re awoken by a blood curdling scream.

Shaking you out of your slumber, you turn to see your boyfriend is gone from the makeshift camp.

A sense of dread buries itself deep into your skin.

“No.. fuck.. no! Jacob!” You cry out, ignoring the ache in your feet as you run back the way you heard the scream. Holding your handgun in front of you cautiously, there’s another scream.

But it sounds like it’s encircling you. Surrounding you from every direction.

“Jacob!” You scream back, tears welling your eyes.

This was your fault.

A spec of blood catches your eye, like a trail of a clue leading you to a horrific mystery. But you follow, urging yourself to run as you come to see your boyfriends body tied to a lonesome tree in front of a small nearby cabin.

“Jacob… Jacob it’s me,” your voice cracks, tossing your gun down onto the snow as you reach for the tightly knotted ropes that had him restrained against the tree. Jacob’s voice is muffled by a rope fastened into his mouth, keeping his head upright against the tree.

Despite his desperate attempts to warn you of the looming predator behind you.. it’s hopeless.

The blood has created a small pool around him, seeping into the snow. “I’m gonna help you okay? I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I’m gonna get you out of this.”

A sound behind you makes your fingers freeze in place around the rope, the familiar sound of the hammer of a gun being pulled back—ready to fire.

Frantically, you look to the ground and realise that your gun is no longer where you’d tossed it. The only evidence of it was a deep imprint in the snow.

A deep, southern voice carries strong through the short distance between you, sending a nauseating shiver down your spine. “Hands where I can see ‘em.”

You raise your hands above your head, kneeling on the ground, eyeing your boyfriend with tears in your eyes, mouthing to him with a tremble of your jutted bottom lip. “I’m so sorry.”

“Turn around.” The deep voice instructs.

Obeying, you turn your body towards your captor, on your knees with your hands still in a surrendering gesture. Eyes stuck on his shoes that were in much better condition than your own, practically new looking.

The cool metal of your own gun traces the shape of your chin, lifting your face upward to meet the gaze of an older man. His dark brown eyes shift as he takes in every feature of your face, committing every detail to memory.

You’re even prettier up close.

“Please don’t do this, I .. we don’t have anything to give. We’re starving as it is and our supplies are worn.” The plea goes ignored, but you’re desperate.

“I’ll do anything, just help Jacob, don’t let him die like this,” you beg, fat tears rolling down past your waterline.

So pretty when you cry. Those bright, big eyes begging him to help you. It’s exactly what he wanted.

“Oh? You’ll do anything will you?” Darkly, he chuckles. “Remember this promise, little bird.”

The man holds your gun in his hand and grabs at you, one hand grasping the back of your head and bringing it flush to his crotch, rubbing your soft face over the hard bludge of his cock.

A breathy moan escapes him at how you protest, the palms of your hands against his thighs attempt to push him away.

“Tss. Maybe you don’t care about your little boyfriend after all, do you?” He scolded you.

A dry sob slips past your cracked lips, seeming to give up against the harsh grip of the man. A twisted rumble from within his chest vibrates against your palms splayed on his jeans.

“Unbutton my jeans and take out my cock,” the older man sneers, in a means to humiliate you.

Your cold, trembling fingers work at the tight button, and it pops open with a sense of release as his stomach slightly overhangs the right fitting denim. The zipper is freezing—but you manage to keep your fingers pinched around the small zip enough to pull his jeans down to expose him.

More tears fall down your face as you fail to accept what was happening.

“Tell me you want this cock, little bird.”

At your silence, the man redirects the barrel of your gun to your boyfriend. “You think I won’t fucking shoot him again?”

With his booming, threatening promise of violence against Jacob, you utter nonsense.

“I want your cock,” voice cracked thickly as you force the words out.

The man growls in approval, bringing the gun back to you, tracing the barrel of the weapon against your lips in a tantalising threat.

“If you try anything, including biting.. I’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out princess.” The utterance through gritted teeth sends your blood cold.

He had no intention of actually killing you, but the way you were trembling beneath him was a good sign you believed it.

“Now be a good girl and swallow your daddy’s thick cock,” he hums, forcing the thick, blunt tip through your parted lips.

It burns, how far his cock has stretched your lips wide open, the intrusion so far deep into your mouth makes you gag around him, but that doesn’t deter him at all. Pushing further into your mouth, down the back of your throat.

“Fuck little bird, knew your mouth would take me perfectly.”

Tears, snot and saliva all accumulate at the base of his cock, urging his hand to force you closer to him. Holding his cock down your throat, legs trembling beneath him at the feel of you struggling, gagging against him and the palms of your hands frantically trying to push him out of your mouth so that you could breathe.

He pulls halfway out of you, and with that a small amount of bile from your throat coats his cock. Your mouth was so perfect, warm and stretched out for him. Taking him so well. Nothing deters this man from taking exactly what he’d dreamt of you these past two days.

The constant reminder of the gun pressed against your temple was forcing you to endure this. It would save Jacob, it would ensure survival for the two of you.

It hurts, the way he’s fucking himself into your throat relentlessly. The pace is brutal and each growl makes your stomach feel sick.

The worst part is that your body is reacting to this, the slick between your legs is gathering and becoming incredibly uncomfortable.

“Gonna swallow my cum, birdie, fuck.. can feel my cock down your throat.” He can see the thickness down your throat too, swollen full of him. He cums with a strangled groan, the sight of his cock twitching down your throat sent him over the edge.

“Such a good girl, ain’cha?”

You’re completely fucked out. Eyes blown wide and red from the tears you shed. He pulls his cock out of your mouth to trace the outline of your plump lips.

“Please let us go now,” the hoarse request is met with a twisted cackle.

The man stuffs his hard cock into his jeans, the outline of it is impossible to ignore as you look up at him with a pleading gaze.

You had done everything he’d asked, and perfectly too.

Which is why he had to do this.

“Sorry, birdie. But I can’t let you go now.”

He brings your gun upward to Jacob and pulls the trigger. Five pounds of pressure against the trigger causes your boyfriend's head to fall limp against the tree, a gaping, bleeding hole in the middle of his forehead.

“No!” Your voice cracks as a guttural scream tears through the air.

No part of your body is listening as you will it to move, for your legs to carry you to stand and run, but they’re numb from being knelt on the icy ground so long.

The man shoves you onto the soft, snow. Your head is right beside your lifeless boyfriend’s body. “Jacob.. Jacob please,” you beseech, hoping that he’d somehow be able to save you.

Your arms are flailing against his chest as he crawls on top of you, the weak attempt gains a thick hand down the front of your cargo pants, and a hot growl against your lips.

“Maybe I don’t need to clip your wings after all, birdie, seems this pretty fucking pussy is already wet. Don’t pretend to fight me, princess. She wants this.” Without warning, one thick finger pushes inside of your weeping cunny, before pulling it out.

A protesting whine rolls off your tongue as he removes his finger, before you could stop yourself. He sucks your juices off the digit. And his eyes darken.

“Been thinkin’ bout how this sweet pussy would taste, knew it would be perfect.”

The older man sticks the same finger that had just been inside you, into one of Jacob’s stomach wounds, coating his finger in the warm, red blood.

He thrives off the mortified expression that causes your face to scrunch up, wiggling as he brings the bloody finger down to your lips, forcing it into your mouth.

But as he retreats his finger past your lips it’s now stained red, albeit clean. But you reject it, gagging against the metallic taste, spitting the blood onto the snow in a messy spatter, some of it sticking to your cheek and chin.

“You’re sick!” A crooked smile stretches the man’s lips at your accusation.

“No, no little bird. This is exactly what you need. A real man to protect you, so that this..” he gestures to your boyfriend. “Doesn’t happen to you, I’m sure you don’t want that, do you?”

The condescending tone is lost on you as the griping reality of fear ensnares you.

Your throat aches at your attempt to swallow the saliva in your throat, bobbing thickly. The small notion of you shaking your head appeases him greatly.

“I’ll take care of you. All I ask is that you don’t run, or I will clip your wings, understand me little bird?”

A second nod seals your fate.

“Believe me when I say you made the right choice, you were comin’ with me either way.”

Turns out that the small, wooden cabin belonged to this man. He had kept his large hand on the small of your back the entire time he showed you around. His homestead was fully furnished with food, supplies, furniture, even toilet paper.

“This is where you’ll sleep.” He opens a door, and there’s no windows, just a bed. Accompanied by a giant lock on the outside of the door.

He wouldn’t need to clip your wings, if he could cage you in.

“Sit down,” he orders, and you obey, still in shock as your brain tries to swallow the past hour of events whole, not allowing you to process it.

The wooden stool creaks, and he silently fills a bucket of warm water and sits across from you on a chair at the dining table.

Delicately scrunching a small cloth in his hands to wipe the dried blood off of your face, he leans in toward you, an almost soft expression plastered as he concentrates.

“If you’re good f’me we’ll give that friend of yours ‘o proper burial. Would you like that?”

The sweetness of his voice lured you in, to stare into his deep brown eyes, to take in the concerned shape of his pinched brows.

“I.. I would like that.”

He hums, you were learning quickly. Once he’s happy with your face being cleaned, he stands, picking up the aluminium bucket by the handle and pouring it down the sink. Clunking as he sets it back on the floor.

“Let’s go bury him then.” Before he changes his mind.

The snow was too thick for Joel to penetrate the soil with his shovel, so he had just cleared a foot of snow and tossed the young man into it, burying him under the frost, stacking a few rocks on top of the unmarked, unnamed grave.

He’s impressed and grateful you don’t run away though the process. That would implicate some serious issues and more importantly, require some kind of punishment.

Joel was willing to do anything to train you, to ensure that you never ran from him. In that regard, since you did stay, he felt he would reward you.

His bed is warm, the duvet is thick and the smell of him brings a sense of security to you for some reason, despite all that had happened.

“When you appease me, as you have today. I’ll reward you.” He coos, gently lying you down onto his soft bed, crawling between your legs, hastily shuffling your pants down your legs.

His face is directly between your thighs, and he parts them softly.

“I can smell how badly you need me, little bird.” He groans, pressing hot, open mouthed kissed to your inner thighs, slowly, agonisingly closer to your core.

He’s surprised when you impatiently nudge the back of his head closer to you. “That’s my girl.”

The curve of his nose rubs against your swollen clit, his tongue darting upward and into your pussy with a newfound passion.

He growls against you, the notion sends a vibration through you, and you let out a soft whimper. Thick hands ground themselves in your hips, dragging you downward in the bed so his face could delve deeper into your hole.

The wet muscle is skilled in it’s explorative ministrations, licking a long stripe from your core to your swollen clit.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get some attention too.” The promise he utters to your neglected clit is fufilled as he clamps his mouth around the bundle of nerves and sucks on you, the pressure causes a suction that feels electric.

Your fingers stiffen as they grasp onto his unruly curls. Coaxing him for more, more more more.

And he gives—the tip of his tongue skilfully, slowly working you closer and closer to the edge you’d never been brought to before.

Your thighs instinctively clamp shut around his head, keeping him buried there, not wanting him to stop.

“Please, please, please need more,” your unintelligible begging implores him to double down on his ministrations.

He can feel that you’re going to burst against him, slowly, and slowly he was winding the burning hot coil inside of you, the pressure was becoming unbearable as your thighs quake and tenable at his command.

Two of his thick fingers are swallowed by your constricting cunt, clamping down as you cry out at the intense sensation. His fingers expertly work you, pumping deep inside of you, calloused fingertips hitting the spongey flesh inside of your slick hole.

“Fucking.. need you..” you’re slurring your words, and he’s convinced that your hole would swallow him if you pushed him far enough between your legs. He could feel how greedily your pussy was swallowing his fingers. Desperate for release.

In an act of desperation, you begin to forcibly rut your pussy against his face as you raise your hips, tiring of his pace not being quiet enough to give you what you needed.

“Please.. please I want to cum.. gonna cum..”

At the increase of friction, and him allowing you to use his face your orgasm comes crashing over you. Your pussy constricts around his fingers as he works you at a slower pace through your climax.

A delicious string of babbling moans and praise roll past your lips.

Thighs jittering with a delicious tremble as they finally relax from their tight vice around his head.

“Thank you.. thank you..” the faint, inarticulate cry was all he needed for him to grin against your pussy.

You’re left heaving, and he’s mesmerised by the way your chest rises and falls at his performance. It’s something he has become enticed with—seeing you alive. Breathing.

It’s unusual for him, admiring the life within you when he was so used to taking it.

And now, as he pulls away from your pussy, lying beside you in his bed. Your body in his arms.. he knew he’d made the right choice to keep your life.

“You did so well f’me little bird.” The praise falls on your ringing ears, but all that’s returned is a vulnerable whine.

Not bothering to correct him after a moment of silence, you can’t help the words that feel petulant to ask. “Who are you?”

“Joel. And this—is your new home.” He croons into your tangled hair.

All for a moment, in the blissful ecstasy you forget how you ended up here.

[mylovesstuffs]

Ot13 and what scares them about love

Request: Hey can u do a headcanon ot13: what scares them about being in love.. or love in general? (Like not being enough, losing control, potential heartbreak… smth like that) thanks a lot:)))

A/N: I added the little bullet notes under each member’s part just in case any of you have similar fears—so that you can be reassured that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Personally, I struggle with the fear of being hard to love. It’s something deeply ingrained in me, though I won’t elaborate further. I just wanted you all to feel a little better. At the end of the day, these notes aren’t really for the members (as if they'll see this lol)—they’re for you. This headcanon (sorta) felt surprisingly personal, and writing it made me reflect on so many things about life and love in general. To the anon who requested this, thank you. Your idea was truly unique, and it gave me a space to pause, think, and see things from a different perspective of svt and others.

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Seungcheol – The Fear of Failing as a Partner

How I see him is that, he carries a deep sense of responsibility, and that extends to love too. His biggest fear is not being able to protect or take care of his partner the way he wants to. He worries about not being emotionally available or strong enough when they need him most. The idea of letting someone down, especially someone he loves, weighs heavily on him.

Seungcheol, you’re doing your absolute best, and that’s more than enough. Your love is a safe space, and no one could ever doubt the strength you bring to those around you.

Jeonghan – The Fear of Losing Himself

Love is beautiful, but it’s also consuming. Jeonghan fears that being in love might make him lose parts of himself—his independence, his ability to make rational choices, or even his sense of control. He’s afraid of how much power someone else could have over his emotions, especially since he’s always the one in control of his own heart.

Love doesn’t mean losing yourself. The right person will embrace all of you, allowing you to be both independent and deeply connected. You don’t have to choose between the two.

Joshua – The Fear of Unreciprocated Effort

I feel like he’s the type to love deeply, wholeheartedly, and unconditionally. But what scares him is the possibility of loving someone more than they love him. He fears investing everything into a relationship, only to find out that his feelings are not returned in the same way. He doesn’t want to be left wondering if he was ever truly enough.

Shua, you are more than enough. Any love you give will be returned in full measure. You’re so kind and caring, and someone who sees you for who you are will love you deeply in return.

Jun – The Fear of Being Misunderstood

Jun is a deep thinker, and his emotions often run slowly beneath the surface. He worries that no matter how much he loves someone, they might never truly understand him. He’s scared of feeling alone in a relationship, of opening up completely and still not being seen for who he truly is.

The right person will understand you in ways you never imagined. Your depth is so precious, and there are people who will cherish every part of who you are.

Hoshi – The Fear of Love Fading

Love, to him, should always be full of passion and excitement. But he fears that over time, feelings might dull, routines might set in, and the relationship could become something ordinary. He wants love to always feel exhilarating, and the thought of it losing its spark terrifies him.

The most beautiful love grows even stronger with time, and the quiet moments are just as powerful as the loud ones.

Wonwoo – The Fear of Not Being Enough

Wonwoo is reserved, and deeply introspective. He worries that he won’t be able to express love in the way his partner needs. He’s afraid that his way of loving through actions rather than words, might not be enough. The idea of someone wanting more than he can give haunts him.

Wonwoo, your love is already enough. The way you care, through your actions and your presence, speaks volumes. Anyone who truly understands you will appreciate the depth of your heart.

Woozi – The Fear of Losing His Dreams for Love

As we all know, he’s very dedicated to his craft and his passion for music runs deep. While he’s capable of deep love, he fears that being in love might take away the time and energy he’s poured into his dreams. He doesn’t want to choose between love and ambition, but he’s afraid that, in the end, one might have to come before the other.

The right person will support and inspire you to keep chasing your passions while loving you in the most meaningful way.

Dokyeom – The Fear of Hurting or Disappointing Someone

Seokmin has such a big heart, and his worst fear is accidentally hurting someone he loves. He always wants to be a source of happiness, but relationships aren’t always perfect, and the thought of being the reason for someone’s pain is unbearable to him.

Kyeom, your heart is pure, and your love only brings joy to those around you. Anyone who is with you will feel lucky to have such a loving and kind soul in their life.

Mingyu – The Fear of Being Too Much

He loves intensely, and sometimes, that can feel overwhelming. Mingyu worries that his enthusiasm, his affection, and his deep emotions might be too much for someone to handle. He’s scared of loving someone with all his heart, only to be told that it’s suffocating.

Gyu :(( your love is perfect just the way it is. No one will ever think you’re too much. You are a warm, bright presence, and the right person will embrace all of that with open arms.

Minghao – The Fear of Losing Freedom

Love is beautiful (2), but Minghao values his independence. He worries about feeling trapped or restricted in a relationship, about losing the ability to chase his own passions freely. He wants to love without feeling like he has to compromise parts of himself.

The right person will love and respect your freedom while still sharing in your journey together.

Seungkwan – The Fear of Heartbreak

He loves hard, and he knows that means he has the most to lose. The thought of giving his whole heart to someone only to have it broken is terrifying. He’s scared of the kind of pain that lingers, the kind that changes a person forever.

Kwannie, your heart is strong enough to handle anything. Love will come with its ups and downs, but your ability to heal and grow will make you even stronger, and you will find a love that never breaks you.

Vernon – The Fear of Not Being Able to Express Himself

Vernon thinks deeply but doesn’t always voice everything he feels. He fears that his inability to always put his emotions into words might make his partner feel unappreciated or uncertain about his love. He doesn’t want to lose someone just because he couldn’t say the right things at the right time.

Anyone who truly cares for you will understand the depth of your feelings, even in silence. You don’t need to explain everything—you show it.

Dino – The Fear of Not Being Taken Seriously

As the youngest in svt, he’s used to being seen as playful and energetic and his partner will also know this persona just like we do. But in love, he wants to be seen as a dependable partner. He fears that no matter how much he matures, there will always be a part of him that people don’t take seriously. He doesn’t want to be seen as a ‘kid’ in love—he wants to be seen as someone who can love deeply and be a strong, steady presence in his partner’s life.

Dino, your maturity is not measured by age but by the love you give. Anyone who loves you will see the depth of your heart and appreciate the amazing, steady partner you are.

[grison-in-space]

Listening to Artificial Condition again, it strikes me how much Murderbot uses empathy reflexively as a survival skill. Look at this bit.

Upon meeting it, ART allows it on board and then announces that it knows that Murderbot is rogue. Then ART threatens to destroy it if it hacks ART's own systems. Murderbot is immediately terrified and shuts down all inputs, gives serious thought to spending the entire three month journey unconscious, and then considers the potential avenues of damage from ART's drones. ART, not realizing why Murderbot had suddenly gone silent, tells it to quit sulking, which understandably pisses off the still-terrified Murderbot. It dumps a bunch of memories of coercive treatment into ART's feed, and ART goes silent.

Then this happens:

Then it said, I’m sorry I frightened you. Okay, well. If you think I trusted that apology, you don’t know Murderbot. Most likely it was playing a game with me. I said, “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to ride to your next destination.” I’d explained that earlier, before it opened the hatch for me, but it was worth repeating. I felt it withdraw back behind its wall. I waited, and let my circulatory system purge the fear-generated chemicals. More time crawled by, and I started to get bored. Sitting here like this was too much like waiting in a cubicle after I’d been activated, waiting for the new clients to take delivery, for the next boring contract. If it was going to destroy me, at least I could get some media in before that happened. I started the new show again, but I was still too upset to enjoy it, so I stopped it and started rewatching an old episode of Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. After three episodes, I was calmer and reluctantly beginning to see the transport’s perspective. A SecUnit could cause it a lot of internal damage if it wasn’t careful, and rogue SecUnits were not exactly known for lying low and avoiding trouble. I hadn’t hurt the last transport I had taken a ride on, but it didn’t know that. I didn’t understand why it had let me aboard, if it really didn’t want to hurt me. I wouldn’t have trusted me, if I was a transport. Maybe it was like me, and it had taken an opportunity because it was there, not because it knew what it wanted.

The thing about Murderbot's survival is that it clearly involves quite a bit of negotiating with other constructs and bots. That's how it talks its way onto cargo hauler bots in the first place. It uses empathy--envisioning the emotional and cognitive context of the individuals it encounters--to work out what different kinds of people want, so that it can offer them fair trades. It also uses empathy to consider what humans might be looking for, so it can practice blending in and hide.

Murderbot would never have survived so long if it wasn't capable of assessing the individual desires of the people--human, bot, and construct--around it. It thinks about ART's probable fears and motivations so that it can consider whether ART is inherently an ongoing threat or a potential ally.

When your survival depends on evading detection, you get really good at assessing perceptual biases so that you can shape yourself to fit into them. People talk about murderbot being radically empathetic as a choice it makes, or as a feature of its personality that makes it a good person. But I think murderbot would be the the first person to tell you that this empathy is part of its threat assessment suite, a skill that was developed out of necessity in order to allow you to survive.

It is also a trait that makes murderbot a good person, of course: it chooses very carefully to try to survive by doing as little harm as possible and by offering things, like media, that buy it access to things it needs. But it started as a survival skill. It's part of hypervigilance.

I think one of the strengths of this series is that so many of the things we love about SecUnit are traits developed for survival in an inherently threatening world. The shape of its mind and heart have been changed by the trauma of its origin--but they don't make murderbot less good for being altered, even if that skill was developed in a traumatic context.

I like that.

[pearlprincess02]

cancer sun 8H, taurus moon 6H, sagittarius rising, cancer mercury 8H, leo venus 9H, virgo mars 10H

cancer sun: you express your ego through your emotions and feelings and for that reason feeling safe is one of the most important aspects of your life. you feel constantly overwhelmed by the threats of the world and the negative experiences of your past, using that as a justification to be suspicious of others. your higher self will allow you to feel vulnerable, taking down the barriers that you have created to withdraw yourself from others. a total trust will give you the strength that is required to overcome any obstacle and feel safe by accepting that there is a superior intelligence that controls everything and everyone in life.

sun in 8th house: can attract a chaotic life that pushes you into achieving transformations because that's how you grow and evolve, through the process of death and rebirth. you can't deal with superficiality and you crave deep connections with people, intimacy and to evolve with the person you love. creative. you may feel like the universe sends you messages so that you'll reach an awareness of some kind. you love experiencing new things and especially with yourself, you constantly look forward to changing your appearance and your spiritual or emotional views on the world. you feel a need for self-improvement. very secretive, you value privacy more than anything and you don't allow almost anyone to figure you out. you might be terrified of not finding people who want to connect with you as deeply as you want with them. tendency to isolate yourself emotionally, as in you might open up to others about superficial matters but when it comes to emotions, you're terrified of showing that part of yourself. you want to help others through their darkest times. 

taurus moon: their inner child might be somewhat subdued or they don’t express this part of themselves often. might be private when it comes to their emotions. they might mull over their emotions for a while, and they probably are really shaken by change. needs stability, routine, and dependability to feel safe and secure. very committed to whatever they set their sights on. they probably know what they need to feel safe since this is a fixed earth sign - this will probably not change often. they’re a good person to go to for advice. they have a calming, down to earth energy about them. very trustworthy.

moon in 6th house: routines and work give them comfort. this can be a workaholic placement. they need their career to be meaningful and to help others in some way. they want their home environment to be clean and clutter-free, or they have things arranged in a specific way. could base their worth on how useful they are to others in low states. their emotional state can affect their health easily and they can be very physically sensitive to their mood changes. could be very in-tune with their senses. mix of mental and emotional strength.

sagittarius rising: the planetary ruler of sagittarius being jupiter shows that you would sometimes be deemed as a lucky person, even if you might not feel lucky, to people who do not know you, they might think the world works truly for you. you being someone who is able to get whatever you want, this can attract jealousy from other people. with jupiter being the ruling planet of your first house, you are someone who might have something big about you? could be a body party or a personality trait.

cancer mercury: a cancer mercury indicates a very compassionate and intuitive approach to communication. your thoughts and ideas are deeply connected to your deep feelings and emotions, and you may use your communication to nurture and support others. you may have a deep empathy for others' feelings and a tendency to want to help others. you may be drawn to expressing your thoughts and ideas through poetic, sentimental, and creative language. you may be very understanding of others' pain and frustrations, and you may feel comfortable offering support to others.

mercury in 8th house: people with this placement are super intuitive, they are also good researchers! they transform through knowledge, communication, and through how they communicate with themselves. they also may inherit some money from their siblings, surprisingly. they can solve complex riddles, matters and basically anything complex. depending on the mercury sign, they have the ability to make money through investing. they can be very secretive when it comes to discussing things about themselves, thats why a lot of their relationships aren't "real” and they feel like the bond isn’t so strong. they may also like learning about the occult, spirituality and such. they are good at piecing together information, and communicating it with other people. they would do well as archaeologist, detectives, etc because they do really good with analyzing data! these individuals can be very suspicious of new things, and may like old things, (like history, etc!) these people will most likely feel comfortable talking about the occult, death, sex, and their possessions. i’ve noticed that a lot of people with this placement see things differently then other people usually would, but on the other side, they can be judgmental or impulsive. they will literally say what they want to say, and don’t care if your feelings get hurt. they know how to read people like a book, and figure out their reasons for doing certain things. they have very obsessive and destructive thoughts at times, that are harmful. they’ll try to lure you out of your lies & have a perfect strategy for doing so. their minds are filled with mystique and mystery, always wanting more.

leo venus: strength and beauty of a goddess, instant connections and passion, object of adoration or desire, demands your attention, worship and heart, romance in their veins, she is the sun - center of your universe.

venus in 9th house: venus in the ninth house suggests a focus on expanding knowledge and broadening the mind. the individual with this placement may have an innate curiosity about the world and a desire to explore different cultures, traditions, and ideas. they may have a fascination with the mystical and the spiritual, and with exploring new concepts, experiences, and perspectives. additionally, this placement suggests a desire to seek the truths of the universe and an appreciation for higher education.

virgo mars: mars in virgo are passionate about helping others and being the best version of themselves. this mars sign is notoriously known for being able to try something once and being exceptionally good at it the first go. i hate to say it (only because I know it comes from a place of pain) but these natives are passionate about perfection. this can cause them a lot of anxiety if they are careful. although, they are good at many things, it is advised that they lean into whatever makes them happy, serve their part in making the world a better place!

mars in 10th house: mars in 10th are passionate about being successful, being their own boss, their reputation and getting external recognition. they will put a lot of energy into their career and be very passionate about whatever they are doing. they will be a trail blazer and their career because they do it the right way the first time. extremely hard workers- just be weary of burn out mars in 10th folks!

@cloudyluminousstarz

ᵒᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ

[holidayinhell]

CWs: blood, captivity Whump, failed escape Whump.

“You ran.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fucking sorry.”

He grabbed Whumpee’s face.

“You. Ran.”

He smacked Whumpee across the cheek. Hard.

The man crashed backwards onto the concrete from the blow. Grime cut into the exposed flesh of his torso as he awkwardly shuffled along the bottom of the cement wall, he desperately inched deeper down the hallway in a useless attempt to flee from his deranged captor.

Whumpee's eyes flashed between the man skulking towards him and the stairway at the end of the narrow passage. It was fifteen, maybe ten feet away. Freedom was so close, he only needed to make it up the steps! But Whumpee could barely keep his head up, much less walk, not to mention the ropes binding his wrists together. There was no way he’d get out.

A shadow fell over Whumpee's form.

“Stopstop stop. I did-didn’t--”

Whumper dropped to his haunches, locking his penetrating gaze to the shattered man’s wide eyes. Whumper had bloodshed on the mind. The killer’s gaze fixated on Whumpee with a cold fascination of a predator rearing to devour its prey.

A powerful surge of adrenaline coursed through Whumpee’s veins, urging him to find the strength to flee. But he couldn’t. With nowhere to run, the cocktail of epinephrine and all-encompassing terror made him freeze in place, he began hyperventilating so quickly he thought he might pass out. The broken man’s eyes squeezed shut.

 “Please. Y—you’re scaring me.”

“Then you’re about to be fuckin’ terrified.”

Whumpee squirmed against the ropes behind him. His busy fingers traced the lines, desperately praying he could burrow into a weak spot to unfurl. But, as always, ropes around his wrists were knotted with expert precision.

“Why’d you do it?” He snarled, grasping a fistful of hair and pulling Whumpee’s eyes directly into his terrifying, animalistic gaze. “Why did you fucking do it, Whumpee?” His wicked eyes demanded an explanation.

“I didn’t think.” He responded weakly. “I wasn’t thinking, I--.”

Whumper wound his arm back and delivered another bone-shattering smack across Whumpee’s cheek.

“Maybe I'll just cut out your tongue.”

“N-no. Please!! I was starving," the thin man pled frantically. "I thought you’d forgotten about me so I—ah, AHHH!”

The metallic smell of blood filled the air as a stream of blood trickled the length of Whumpee’s arm. Fuck, fuck.

“PLEASE!” Whumpee wailed.

Lightly chuckling, Whumper pulled the box cutter from the wound he'd buried in Whumpee’s shoulder.

“Try again, Whumpee. Why'd you run?" the killer demanded.

Whumpee tucked his legs into his chest protectively. “It was a mistake. I'm scared, I don’t know! You’re k-killing more people.” Salty tears cut clean tracks through the grime on his round, filthy cheeks. "Th-those girls from last week. And Caretaker-hic- you killed him too, I, I--!"

Whumpee's head raced uncontrollably as he fought to steady his breath, struggling to calm his mind from this waking nightmare.

“You stopped feeding me. It's been, I think five days, or, no, a week. I don’t know how long it’s been.” He fought the sob aching in the back of his throat. “I don’t know how long it’s been, I'm so hungry, I just...”

The small man let out a heartbreaking yowl when the knife slashed into his shin.

"Don't do this!" Whumpee shrieked.

Whumper offered no words of comfort. He loved seeing Whumpee like this, raw and trembling and begging for mercy.

Stripping away the man's pride had been a painstaking process, it had taken months for Whumpee to understand his rightful place. And now, finally, Whumpee’s soul was laid bare for the killer to devour. Nothing brought him more pleasure than watching Whumpee unravel.

“I-I know my...my r-ransom date. Is coming. And I know my parents are gonna pay up soon.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” The killer said quickly.

Whumpee’s eyes peaked over his bleeding legs, heavy tears rolling down his cheeks. He was so fragile and pathetic it was almost heartbreaking.

Whumper smirked, shaking his head in mock sympathy.

“Oh Whumpee. Life’s just a living hell for you, ain’t it? Ya can't wave your money around and get what you want like you used to.”

“Please. I’m sorry.”

An uneasy silence settled between them as Whumper's gaze raked over Whumpee. A bizarre, cruel grin twisted on his lips.

Whumper let out a nightmarish cackle.

“I can’t blame ya for trying.” He smirked. God Whumpee was fun.

“I’m sorry.” Whumpee repeated earnestly, sniffling. He exhaled. “I won’t be a problem for you ever again.”

The promise hung heavy in the air.

“I know that.” Whumper responded, nodded somberly, his eyes darkening. He rocked back on his heels and stood, his looming figure cast a shadow over the broken man.

 “Cuz I'm gonna have to kill ya.”

The blood drained from Whumpee’s face. 

“What a waste, too.” Whumper sighed. “You ruined something that was goin’ well for ya. I trusted you, I thought you were one of the good ones.”

“No-no, I’m good. I’m still good, I’ll be good! I’ll do anything yo—.”

Whumper drove his heel into the side of Whumpee’s face, sending his head crashing into the unforgiving basement floor. Pain exploded through Whumpee’s body, the unforgiving surface scraping his skin raw.

He lay still for a moment, breathless and stunned. The cold, hard cement pressed uncomfortably against his cheek.

"Don't. Don't."

“I need you to understand something: you lost your privilege to live the second you opened that fucking door.”

Barely above a whisper, Whumpee pleaded again. “Don’t hurt me. Please.”

Whumper flicked the boxcutter open.

“I’m gonna do a hell of a lot more than just hurt you.”

((more Whump oneshots))

[justanotherescapism]

After all this time

Homelander x Super!Fem!Reader

Word count: 684

Spoilers for season 4

“C’mon dig in before it melts.” Homelander put the ice cream cake down on the table. He laughed, everyone around him was silent. Their eyes flicked back between the cake and the supe. They were shocked to see him, he hadn’t been back since he first left, they had hidden behind the safety of it. He walked around the lab, pointing and laughing with nostalgia. He may not like to think about it but he remembers every moment from his childhood. It was why he had to return today.

“You know what day it is today?” He looked around, no-one spoke up. “Today is the day when you sent her away.” 

“Joh-”

“Homelander.” He sneered. “Call me Homelander.”

“Homelander, you know why we had to send her away,” Marty tried to reason.

“Yeah, you said. You told me over and over again. But let me hear you say it, one more time.” Marty looked to his other colleagues, scared of what he had to say and how he would react. 

“She was a distraction.” Marty looked down, avoiding Homelander’s steel eyes. 

“Yes, a distraction, from what? The pain? The suffering? Yes, I guess she was.”

“Homelander, sh-”

“Oh don’t worry, I get it. I do.”

He looked at the rooms at the back of the lab. They weren’t allowed to be in the same room but they both had super hearing so they talked through the walls. Something had grown from that, something that even now Homelander craved. He thought he could get it from Vought but the company did nothing for him anymore. His son came closest, but he didn’t understand, Homelander suffered in a way Ryan couldn’t understand. When he looked at the rooms, he realized her door was closed. The tiny window was covered. He walked across to the door, his manic mood shifting. 

“Homelan-”

“Shut up, Marty.” He chuckled but gritted his teeth, staring at Marty, who looked terrified. Homelander grabbed the handle on the door, pulling it slowly. Inside was just how he remembered. The walls were stark white brick, the floor a cold concrete with no room for comfort. It was no bigger than a broom cupboard. 

But on the floor was a figure he recongised instantly. She was still here. 

“John?” 

“You’re here.” He quickly dropped to her side. She looked healthy - super healing and all - but her eyes were hollow, how long has she been down here? 

“After all this time, you came back.” She weakly smiled at him, tears flooding her eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” He dropped to his knees beside her, wrapping his arms around her. She hugged him back. He looked different but the same. She could still see the pain behind his eyes that others so easily missed. Tears fell from her eyes, as he shuddered, both in pain and excited. 

“Why?” He asked this not really knowing what the answer would be. He couldn’t understand why they’d keep her down here all these years, and lie to him about it. 

“Finding a way to destroy you. A safety protocol.” She fell more into his arms, her strength waning. Homelander’s jaw clenched. To find a way to destroy him, they needed to destroy her first. Torture for years and years. 

“I’m going to destroy them.”

“Make it painful.”

All she could hear was screaming and the sound of Homelander’s laser eyes. She smiled, she always knew some day he would come back, even if it took everything in her not to give up. All of them would die and she’d leave with the man she had loved since she was a child. 

“They’re dead. We can leave now.” He looked down at her. He was covered in blood from the people who had tortured them. She smiled, tears falling down her face. When she stood, she fell into his arms, hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, just as tight. The hole he had was filling and he felt her look up at him. 

They got into the elevator, holding hands. She shut her eyes, waiting to feel the sun on her face.

[thebadchoicemachine]

I’m absolutely deranged right now BUT

2012 AU where April is the only one left. Ever. Life on other planets is gone too. The turtles got warped into a cosmic eldritch state (technically gods but like them as people are for sure super dead). The remnants of them follow April.

Donnie is now a force of inspiration, Raph of strength and passion, Mikey of chaos, and Leo of clarity and stealth.

April travels dimension in their ship now, searching for a world just like hers that she can just hop into. Since the multiverse is infinite but she no longer ages she can search infinitely. This drives her a little insane obviously. She’s also run into a LOT of worlds where one of the main four or splinter is dead or where they don’t exist at all.

Then she crashes into ROTTMNT world. Wants a break to hang out there for a moment. Needs a break.

Anyway, then the Rise gang has to deal with this alternate dimension “”April”” who’s clearly Unwell mentally but also can keep up with every turtle in their respective field for some reason?

April goes “MIKEY! Why’re you so small here? You still a weirdo? Good. RAPH! Whoah are you guys different species here? Donnie! You’re even more purple that I was expecting, nice! Can you help me with a tracker—LEOOoooo…. there’s nothing familiar about you to me! but I am happy to see you too!”

After a LOT of convincing they let her stay. They slowly bond discussing their dimensions differences. Eventually April starts saying some really weird things, asking questions about death in fits of solemness, talking to herself as though the tmnt are there, stuff like that. Especially to Rise!April.

Rise!Donnie after snooping investigating her stuff gets it in his head that she had gone insane and killed everyone and was plotting to kill them. His evidence? The braided cloth she wore around her neck was actually all their masks.

Rise!Raph calms him down like “hey. That’s crazy.”

Leo integers with the evidence that SHE (Other [2012] April) is crazy.

Mikey, who’s been oddly silent and hasn’t stopped staring at the masks, (the only one who’s put the empathetic pieces together of the loss April must be going through) begins to ask “What if she just—“

Other April is standing in the doorway with her hockey stick, casting a shadow on all of them. She’s visibly furious, and honestly terrifying as she rushes toward the brothers.

Instead of attacking them, though, she just shoves them out of the way and frantically begins braiding the masks back together.

“You can’t separate them,” she scolded, panic and anger and a deep forlorn in her voice. “They have to stay together. How’d YOU feel if I tore you from your bro—“

She stops realizing how they’re all looking at her. Apologizes. Says she’ll leave now.

Mikey says wait and asks very very gently if she’d like to talk about it. Other April stops. Then breaks down a little.

One emergency session with the whole family gathered later, Shedder asks Other April to begin talking, if she’s ready. She numbly shrugs and says “it’s a short story. I lost everything.”

Splinter goes into a really wise and comforting lecture about how there’s always something left as long as she’s around but Other April snappily stops him.

“You don’t understand. I lost EVERYTHING. It’s not just my dad, or Splinter, or Casey, or Leo, Mikey, Raph, or Donnie. It’s all gone. I can never go home because I don’t have a home to go back to.” She starts tearing up, processing emotions she’s spent lifetimes avoiding with her search. “When Earth was destroyed I thought ‘that’s it. I’ll never be sad again. I just watched billions of people die, I watched my whole life—every human’s entire world—implode. How do you even grieve that?.”

She explains her whole story, though the others ask a lot of questions when she gets to what exactly happened to the turtles, and her goal of finding a home exactly like hers but without an April.

They all agree she’s 100% insane, but genuine, and IS their friend. Lots of good family stuff happens and In the end, Other April is unable to be convinced to abandon her mission of finding HER friends again, but is a lot less one-minded about it. Donnie helps rig her up a way to track the dimensions she’s in both so she can search easier and so she can return eventually.

They all say goodbye, Rise!April gives her the biggest hug imaginable and a bunch of weapons. The boys send her off with a copy of just about every Lou Jitsu and JJ film they can think of, and she’s off.

[darkfantasywriter]

Best Friend x Reader

Title: Forever Mine

You always knew there was something different about Alex. From the moment you met in middle school, those bright eyes had a certain intensity, a kind of devotion that was both comforting and unnerving. But who could complain? Having a best friend who cared so deeply was something most people would kill for.

It all started small. Alex was constantly there, waiting for you after school, constantly texting you, and ensuring to sit next to you in every class. You laughed it off, finding it rather intense how dedicated Alex was to your friendship.

But then it escalated.

If you made plans with someone else, Alex would pout, making you feel guilty for even considering spending time with others. If someone flirted with you, Alex would glare at them, pulling you closer under the pretense of needing to talk. It was suspicious, and a little bit annoying as well. You started noticing how Alex’s grip on your arm would tighten just a little too much, how that friendly smile never quite reached the eyes when others were around.

“Why do you need anyone else when you have me?” Alex would ask, the tone light, but the underlying tension undeniable. You’d chuckle nervously, brushing it off, but the unease was growing.

One day, you decided to confront Alex. The possessiveness was suffocating, and you needed space—something you hadn’t had in years.

“Alex, we need to talk,” you started, but Alex’s eyes immediately filled with panic.

“Are you… are you leaving me?” The question was whispered, as if the very thought was too painful to voice.

“No, I just need—”

“NO!” Alex’s voice was sharp, desperate. “You can’t leave me. I won’t let you.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You tried to step back, but Alex’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist with a strength that left you breathless.

“I’ve done everything for you,” Alex whispered, eyes wide with a terrifying mix of love and fear. “I’ve kept everyone away so it could just be us. You don’t need anyone else. You belong to me.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized the extent of Alex’s obsession. This wasn’t just a friendship—it was a cage, one that Alex had carefully constructed around you.

“Alex, please…” you pleaded, but the words died in your throat as you saw the look in Alex’s eyes. There was no reasoning with someone who had crossed the line between love and obsession.

Alex’s lips curved into a sad smile as if reading your thoughts. “You’ll understand eventually. We’re meant to be together forever. I’ll make sure of it.”

As the room seemed to close in around you, you realized too late that Alex would never let you go. You were trapped, ensnared in a bond that was as unbreakable as it was terrifying.

And in Alex’s eyes, that was exactly how it should be.

[thescriptorium]

Thinking about the great implications of Jinx’s arc ending with her final battle against Warwick. Having Vander be this monster she created, the reason she thinks Vi must hate her, the reason she hates herself, returning as this one very real ghost from her past. This final trauma that she has to face. It all sounds so perfect on paper. But the way it was translated on screen still seemed off, or lacking some kind of emotional depth. Something I couldn’t put my finger on.

Then I watched schnee’s video, where he basically points out the heavy use of tropes in that self-sacrificial way, and how none of that scene felt new or unique in the arcane-standard we’re used to. aka, Jinx’s tea party massacre where character and plot and lore all converge—into one spectacular explosion.

And then I realized, maybe you can’t beat perfection. Maybe it really was impossible to beat how incredible that scene was. The season 2 finale was good but it wasn’t great like season 1. I won’t pretend to act like I could think of a better way, but maybe I also think we really were missing that one last conversation between the sisters where Vi wants to run away with Jinx again, like in the tea party. Both of them being caught up in a war that has nothing to do with them, with the arcane and overwhelming politics, and saying fuck it, fuck zaun and piltover, it’s only ever been us.

and then, having Jinx be the one to tell Vi “No.”

In a way, that’s what the prison cell scene was, but it’s premature. If this rejection came after Jinx faced Warwick, saving Vi meanwhile (and living), it would show such strength from her. It would reinforce how Vi needed to view Jinx as an adult and not her baby sister. It would insist on both of them growing up, out of their oaths and obligations to each other. Having Jinx, out of the two, insisting that they’re not healthy for each other, that they need to find the strength to walk away and accept not being in each others lives. It would be Jinx breaking not only her cycle, but Vi’s as well, through mature growth and adult conversation.

Not to mention, her killing Warwick to save Vi (and not die) would’ve been her putting those ghosts to rest. The tragedy of Jinx having to kill Vander again, in front of Vi, would have been heartbreaking, but afterwards it would’ve given the chance for Vi to speak her forgiveness, to heal not only Vi’s perception of her, but Jinx’s perception of herself for what happened that night. The way Jinx could’ve been terrified that Vi would’ve hated her for killing Vander again but this time Vi hugs her, thanks her, and proves that she still has faith in her. It doesn’t punish Vi for her love, but she still gets to break her cycle by deciding to let Jinx live on without her, to trust her decisions as an adult and be the person she was always supposed to be—a whole person, without her codependency on her big sister.

Maybe it would’ve been too on the nose, but I think if anything had to be explicitly said in the ending, it could have been this. Giving Vi and Jinx this choice of sisterhood, this conversation of Zaun vs Piltover vs Family, and allowing them to make this decision together. It would’ve pivoted season 2 from being so plot-driven back into being as character-driven as it was season 1.

The sister’s deciding to split ways after fighting so hard with each other, simply for each other, would’ve mirrored Piltover and Zaun’s constant need for divide so perfectly. That separation isn’t terrible if it means they get to heal individually. It doesn’t mean the end of forever, but it means a new beginning for everyone. It could have helped us understand how the theories of Vi being the savior would not have worked, if she said, “I don’t care about the badge, or Zaun, or any kind of agenda. I care about you. I care about the people I love.” That individual need to find family and love despite where it comes from. It could’ve converged Jayce & Viktor’s storyline of ascending all political conflicts to share the love that they have. That way, the lore can be at rest as well.

Vi can live guilt-free in Piltover, and maybe Jinx can return to Zaun one day, after her adventures, leaving little graffiti jokes to Caitlyn and Vi, while also raising a little hell along the way ❤️‍🩹

[gender-machine-broke]

Believing men and women’s sports should be kept separate does not mean you believe women are inferior to men.

Men have greater muscle density, physical strength, and often larger body size than women. Those are FACTS. Ignoring them will only hurt women. But those are not the only qualities that matter. There are plenty of animals with significantly more raw strength than humans of either sex, but we don’t think of them as superior to humans, because there are so many more things humans are capable of. Women have greater dexterity, flexibility, balance, and often endurance. The example I like to use is men’s vs women’s gymnastics because they are completely different sports, designed to highlight men and women’s different strengths. I’ve seen pro male gymnasts try to do basic tricks in women’s gymnastics and they are never very good. Perhaps if society had never been patriarchal, we would have more sports that showcase women’s strengths over men.

I know that a lot of us since we were little wanted to prove that girls can beat boys at anything. I know I was that kind of little girl. When kids are little, before puberty, there are less physical differences between boys and girls so co-ed teams are more common. This isn’t the case in middle school or high school. Teenage girls don’t try to arm wrestle male athletes their age and they know their male peers could seriously hurt them if they wanted.

It’s defeating and terrifying to realize how much stronger men are than women, so I understand why people would choose denial. But that is exactly why we can’t give up women’s sports! In contact sports, male athletes could do serious damage to female athletes if they wanted to. And who’s to say they don’t? There is a whole culture of men getting enjoyment from seeing women suffer or inflicting pain themselves. And by allowing them in women’s sports you would give them a socially acceptable setting to be physical with women. What about changing rooms? Women are self conscious enough changing in front of other women. What would keep them safe from harassment and ogling at the very least?

And of course, women deserve to have our achievements recognized. The excellence of female athletes should be celebrated. Is it fair to a decorated female athlete to have a man who couldn’t even place in men’s sports take away her victory? What hope does that give to little girls who are inspired by her? That would discourage them from going into sports altogether, which is far from feminist.

People have different abilities and needs and we can recognize that without making assumptions about their worth! Should we get rid of the Special Olympics in order to pretend that people with disabilities are exactly the same as abled people? No! That would be doing them a grave disservice. If the gender crowd truly believe that there are no differences between the sexes and we should all compete together, they should simply create a trans sports league for people of all genders to join. No one is stopping them

[itstheoneshot]

Tokyo Nights

request

Summary: A wild night out, with an even wilder man. Could anything get any better?

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Yuta x Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Alcohol Use, Oral, Unprotected Sex.

Yuta was hot, and boy, did he know it.

He oozed arrogance and dominance in the best way, and you were addicted to him, besotted and drawn in with every word he said, your eyes never leaving him, forever caught in that terrifying gaze.

“Where are we going?” You ask, as Yuta intertwines your fingers to lead you out of the hotel lobby.

You look up at the neon-lit streets of the central Shinjuku area, breathing in the air that you had missed so badly. It had taken a lot to convince your company to send you on another business trip to Japan, having only been here a few months ago, but you were desperate to see the man that you met at a dingy bar one night after a painful meeting on your last trip.

Nakamoto Yuta. A corporate top dog, though you wouldn’t pick it at first glance. He dressed immaculately, but didn’t flaunt his wealth with big emblazoned designer wear, everything he did was subtle. Except for flirt, and give orders, and oh god, did he have you fucking kneeling.

“We’re going to get a drink, kitten,” He replies, “You want a drink, don’t you?”

Your heartbeat is racing in your chest, and you know as much from last time that when he asks you a question like this, it isn’t really up for debate, but a suggestion, both in broken English and in his need to be in charge, you nod meekly at him, playing into the kitten nickname just a little.

“I’d love a drink,” You murmur, “Will you order for me too?”

Yuta looks at you, playfully rolling his eyes as he squeezes your hand gently. Turning to walk you down a dimly lit street, he pauses for a moment in between the streetlights to pull you closer to him.

“Of course I will,” He answers, leaning down to kiss you, a short kiss but it still leaves you breathless, “I’m gonna have so much fun with you tonight.”

It takes all of your strength to stop yourself from crying out as he pulls away, though you whine just loud enough for him to hear, pouting cutely at him as he turns to walk away. You hold his hand tightly, with a skip in your step you only walk a little further before Yuta stops in front of a secluded little bar.

“Our first stop,” He smiles at you, gesturing for you to enter before him, though he doesn’t let go of your hand, “You’ll like it here, it’s intimate.”

Yuta greets the bartender as you walk inside, and you glance around to take everything in. It is smaller than you had expected, with maybe 6 bar stools, and a singular man working behind the bar. You walk to the furthest one, sitting down as Yuta sits beside you, and the bartender looks over just as Yuta lights a cigarette up, holding the pack out for you to take one too.

You do so and he lights it for you as the smoke from his own cigarette filters out from between his lips. The bartender is standing in front of you when you exhale your first drag, and you listen as Yuta orders you each a beer, at least that much you can understand without a second pause for internal translation.

As your drinks are poured, Yuta lets his hand settle on your bare thigh, gripping slightly, though of course you notice. You had not forgotten just how big his hands are, but this was a pleasant reminder, a throwback to the last time you were here, the first time that you met.

The grip he holds to you gets tighter as you both feel the buzz, several drinks in now, twice as many cigarettes when Yuta turns to you suddenly, leaning in for another lingering kiss before pulling away, leaving that same sense of impatience, desire.

“Let’s go now, kitten,” He says, “The night is young, we have so much left to do.”

You have no idea what he means by that, though in seconds you are on your feet, a little woozy but not in a bad way, following him out of the bar and back out into the streets. The alleyway is busier now, more people enjoying the fresh air, and the main streets are even busier. The neon lights feel brighter than before, but the sky is pitch black, so it must just be the contrast.

You aren’t outside for long, soon pulled into a tall building and directed up an escalator to the third floor. You could recognise the sounds from a mile away, and you aren’t afraid to hide the smile on your face as you enter the arcade, the experience is so different with a little booze in your system.

“Show me what you want to win,” Yuta asks you, “I’m a pro, I promise.”

It takes a few minutes, walking up and down the aisles of claw and ufo machines to find something perfect. You know that this won’t be your last stop, so a giant plush toy is out of the question, though you could have screamed when you saw the Gengar one… but you make it to the machines with smaller plush keyrings, and after glancing down at your handbag, decide that would be the best choice for you.

“That one,” You mumble, pointing in front of you at the Hello Kitty toy, “Please, she’s so cute!”

Yuta nods approvingly, not waiting another moment before inserting the required coins, and scoring it on the first go with a skill that you truly could not believe.

“That had to have been a fluke!” You tease him, though you are quietened with another kiss, this time a little deeper, more forceful, yet still not enough.

“You should say thank you,” He warns you, but there is a softness in his gaze that tells you that you aren’t really in trouble, he glances down at the keyring before looking again at you, “And she’s cute, but you are cuter.”

You feel your cheeks burn with a flustered blush, which only deepens as without a second thought, Yuta drops to his knees to clip the key ring onto your bag. It is intimate, far too intimate for the location, and the way that your body reacts has you almost in tears.

Yuta glances up at you expectantly, but is confronted with an expression that he can’t place quite yet.

“Are you okay?” He asks, “What’s on your mind?”

Your mind is racing, one thought over and over again, one thought that may get you in trouble, or drive this beautiful man insane. You aren’t often brave, but maybe it’s the alcohol, or being in a foreign country, but you muster up the courage to reply.

“I thought I’d end up on my knees first tonight,” You smirk at him playfully, watching him bite his lip, his eyes widening as you sentence yourself, “But we still have time for that, don’t we senpai?”

Yuta stands up slowly, his gaze unwavering as he interlocks your fingers with his, and turns with an expectation of you to follow him toward the exit.

“We have plenty of time, kitten,” He replies, his tone far too casual for what he is insinuating, “But I think I’d like to get started early.”

“I’d like that,” You nod eagerly, though you are not quite certain what you are agreeing to, you know that Yuta requires your consent before making any move, “Yes, please.”

After a detour into a convenience store, where Yuta keeps you close as he purchases several alcoholic drinks, all with labels you can hardly read, and soon again you are walking up a backstreet towards an area that you have not been through before. A little lost at first, you soon realise, reading the signs above you as you trail up another street.

Love Hotel.

A new experience for you, on your last trip, Yuta came to your hotel, and you to his apartment, but the desperation calls for a much quicker, easier option than to travel back to where either of you are staying. You are sure that Yuta has one in mind, and you fully give in to follow him toward a dimly lit, but very inviting hotel just ahead.

It takes no time at all to check in, the functions are anonymous, it is so surreal not speaking to a single person at all, but in minutes you have a keycard and a room number and Yuta has you pressed against the wall of the elevator as you travel up to the 8th floor.

“Fuck,” Yuta groans against your lips, “I shouldn’t have waited so long to bring you here, I think I’m going crazy.”

His words, and the deep guttural tone of them, have the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and goosebumps raise on your skin. He is scary when he is desperate, but the fear only makes your wanting grow, the lack of control that you have over the situation now that you have consented is such a turn on for you.

You whimper as the elevator stops, and Yuta quickly pulls away to drag you down the hallway with an ease that tells you he has frequented this hotel many times before tonight, but that does not surprise you in the slightest.

The door is opened and just as quickly shut with you pressed up against it. Yuta’s hand on the door handle, double and triple checking the lock, although of course it doesn’t open without a key, he just needs to be sure. The plastic bag with your cans of drink falls to the floor, all but forgotten as Yuta races to kiss you as if his life depended on it. You don’t even get a chance to look at the room before all of your attention and focus is stolen by the man in front of you.

It is hot, and messy, fumbling hands quick to pull at buttons and fabric, making quick work of undressing the other. The feeling of Yuta’s hands on your skin is electric, his perfectly manicured black nails look so pretty as he lifts a hand to your throat to keep you still, though you wouldn’t dare to move anyway.

“Yuta~” You whine, your words trailing off as his free hand roughly guides your legs apart, you are leaning up on the tips of your toes to make this easier for him, “Oh, fuck.”

One long, slender finger breaches you for the first time, as his other hand tightens slightly around your neck, muffling the moan that escapes you. It takes you back to your last meeting, god, you had missed the way he felt, the way that he worked your body as if it was made for him.

Yuta breaks away from the kiss to lean back and watch you as one finger moves to two, and you try your hardest to match his gaze, though your vision is blurry, and your focus is all over the place with so many things to take in.

The moans that escape you are pitiful, his fingers curl at just the right angle, and you remember just how easily he was able to get you there last time, and pray that tonight will be much the same. You try to pull him closer, chasing the way that his kisses make you feel, but he is so much stronger than you, all he does is laugh at your attempt.

“Oh, kitten,” He murmurs, as you let out a particularly loud cry, and your vision begins to blur, “Are you close? You look like you’re about to cry.”

You whimper pathetically, as your thighs begin to shake, only able to nod, knowing that he won’t be done with you, this is only the beginning. He nods approval only seconds before your high washes over you, with an euphoric buzz that has you reeling, breathing staggered and all a mess.

“Good girl,” Yuta purrs, pulling his fingers out without warning, leaving you bare, “Now I want you on your knees, after your little comment at the arcade.”

Always eager to please, you follow Yuta with wobbly steps as he crosses the room to the bed, noting that he stopped to pick up the bag of drinks, and he places the bag down next to him once he reaches the mattress, where you obediently drop to your knees. You stare up at him wide-eyed, smiling softly as you see the outline of his cock through his slacks. Your hands trail up his thighs to his waistband, nimble fingers making quick work to pull his pants down, exposing the body you fell so damn hard for, and that feeling is only tenfold now.

“You’re so beautiful, Yuta,” You praise him as he moves to sit down on the bed, and you guide his legs apart so you can fit between them, “I’m lucky to serve you tonight.”

Yuta combs his fingers through your hair, guiding you to move closer, his other hand on his cock, stroking slowly to satiate a little bit of his desire before you close your mouth over the tip. You remember how he likes it, messy and deep, and you don’t struggle at all, even when his hips buck and force you to take him in deep enough to make you gag on him.

“Good kitten,” He purrs, “You feel so good.”

Spit pools around the base of his cock as he fucks into your throat, you hollow your cheeks to take him deeper, loving the way that he uses your mouth, knowing what it will get you after this.

You look up as you hear a noise, and see that Yuta has cracked open one of the cans of drink. He takes a sip from it, and then roughly grabs you by the hair to pull you off his cock but keep you still in your position on the floor. He tugs your head back, and you gasp, which gives him the opportunity to do what he had planned, pouring the drink down your throat, overflowing it goes down your neck and your chest. He laughs at you as you cough a little, trying your hardest to swallow before he drags you down onto his cock again. You feel sticky, eyes watering as you try to find that same rhythm that you just had before he gave you the alcohol top-up, fuck, that was hot.

You feel his cock twitch, and know that you have him close, but he pulls you off him before he reaches climax, muttering an I am not done yet as he pulls you on top of him, moving back up the bed to make it more comfortable for you both.

Straddling his hips, you feel his cock, hard and throbbing against you, and you desperately grind on him, wanting to relieve some of the pressure building deep inside your stomach. Yuta chuckles at you out of pity, “Such a slut, you can’t wait to have me inside you, can you?”

You whimper and whine, but don’t hesitate to lift onto your knees to give him the space to line his cock up with your hole. You use all your strength to drop down onto him, taking him all in one swift motion. The sting is harsh at first, but you were more than ready, and needed your fill more than any pain could stop you.

“Fuck, Yuta senpai,” You moan, knowing damn well how much he loves the name, it is what got you here in the first place, “You stretch me out so well.”

He holds your hips to keep you steady as he helps you ride him, slow and sensual, allowing yourself to feel every inch of his cock as you take him in deep, filling you completely, plugging you up just the way you like it.

Yuta grabs you by the throat to pull you down and kiss him, giving him the opportunity to thrust into you from underneath. The new angle has you spiralling, his strength and speed so much more than your own. Your moans mix with his and all you can hear is that and the sound of your bodies connecting over and over again.

Your vision begins to blur when Yuta rolls you over onto your back, making space between your legs to thrust back in only a moment later, not leaving you bare for long enough to slow your orgasm down, you are close, oh god, you are so fucking close.

“Please,” You cry, “Help me, let me cum, please!”

Yuta begins to laugh, but is cut off to moan as your body begins to shake, clenching to him unable to hold back anymore, he moves his hand down to rub circles on your clit, thrusting harshly to help you get there.

Your orgasm breaks through with desperate cries, gasping for air while you see stars. You are not sure at what point Yuta reaches peak too, but you feel his rhythm go off-beat and a warmth spreads as he paints your insides white. You realise now that he didn’t wear a condom, but you’re on the pill, and checked regularly for STDs, so you couldn’t care less as the sex is better than you had even remembered.

“My kitten,” He murmurs as he kisses you, slowing down to a stop, and pulling out of you in a swift movement, “I needed that, needed you.”

You kiss him back, whining softly as you feel his cum drip down between your legs, dying to clean yourself up, but not knowing what the rest of the night is going to entail. You could do with a shower, after having three quarters of a can of alcohol poured over you, and you hope that Yuta wants to, too. The room has a bath in the corner, and Yuta catches you eyeing it off.

“You don’t need to ask,” Yuta chuckles, “Let’s bath, and then we can go out again. I still have to take you clubbing, don’t I, kitten?”

[kakiastro]

From

South Node Libra

To

North Node Aries

Your Nodes is the main reason why you’re here(born) in the first place, from a soul point of view.

Your rising is the roadmap on how you’ll get there. The planets is the lessons you’ll learn on the way.

Also look at your Nodes houses and rulership planets.

Libra- 7th house and your Venus

Aries- 1st house and your Mars

South Node Libra

-you learned at an early age about diplomacy and unfairness. You may have had to share your things, even if you didn’t want to with others. “Sharing is caring” was drilled into you hard. You may had to be the mediator in your family whenever a fight or argument broke out. This was a constant theme throughout your life.

As you got older, you found yourself being put in the middle of situations and feeling like you have to choose a side. Even if you heavily disagree with someone, you’ll try to find someway to keep the peace.

You understand what unfairness means because you grew up surrounded by those who were or you were. Social justice and fairness runs deep in your bones. These are the people who will speak up for others.

These natives also understand balance and try to hear from everyone’s point of view before deciding on who’s right. Most times they struggle with picking sides because they see from other point of views.

These natives has a great fashion sense, something they developed young probably from a a family member.

In several past lives, you were probably a diplomat of some kind, the mediator so these are skills you’ve mastered.

North Node Aries

From the diplomats to the general. You’re use to putting everyone else before you, now you must learn to prioritize your own need first. Now this doesn’t mean not helping people! It means to stop giving everyone your oxygen tank when you’re barely breathing your damn self. Look at it this way, you’ll help others better when you help yourself first.

With your SN energy, you’re good at seeing other points of view especially in conflicts. However this cause you to not want to get involved too much or you struggle with picking a side. Growing into your NN energy, you may take the lead in conflicts and say “this is what we’re not going to do and what we’re going to do.” Now I know this just gave you the shivers because you’re not about the drama lol. You don’t have to be, you just have to make a decision that’s fair for everyone involved.

Standing up for yourself, now with SN Libra energy, you struggle with this. I’m not saying you’re a pushover but you’re not a fan of open conflict unless you’re pushed into it. Your greatest strength is fighting for others, which is an incredible gift to have. However, you have to learn to fight for yourself as well, even if you stand alone, which can be terrifying for you all. The thing is, you’ll never be “alone” because you’ve established friendships with that Sn energy, now it’s time to be the leader that they already look up too.

You’ll move into your North Node until you pass. This is a lifetime lesson for you to learn.

Celebrities with these Nodes

Will Smith

Kit Harrington

Emilia Clarke

Daniel Craig

Michael B. Jordan

Kat Denninga

Pam Grier

Yall there’s so many celebs with these Nodes lol

It makes sense cause Libra is a creative sign as well and SN may have been attracted to the arts at a young age.

Thank you for reading!

[multifandomrandomgirl]

Not Alone - Mick Mars x reader

Trigger warning: panic attack

Masterlist:

Wordcount: 793

------

Electric red and blue lights lit up the night, the energy that could be generated at a Mötley Crüe gig was intense. The crowd of young girls screamed, and the men shouted along to the songs, the lights were blinding and the instruments were deafening.

Yet, behind the scenes, backstage, it was a whole other story.

Y/N leaned against the cold concrete wall, trying to steady her breath. The tears rolled down her cheeks relentlessly, they were hot and stung. Y/N’s body shook as the overwhelming emotions coursed through her. The backstage area was meant to be a place of excitement, but it now felt like a prison. The lights and noise only amplified her distress. She didn’t even notice the gig coming to an end.

Footsteps approached her, steadily, contrasting the chaos within her mind. She didn’t look up to see who it was; she couldn’t. The weight of her crying crushed her, she felt like she was drowning.

“Did I scare you?” The voice was low and it was unmistakable that it belonged to Mick Mars.

Y/N lifted her head, her eyes met his. Her vision was blurred by her heavy tears. She could barely make out his face which was framed by his long black hair. His usual cold persona was gone, his face was soft and full of concern, a side of him that Y/N had never seen.]

“Oh, sweetheart.” Mick murmured, he closed the distance between them, his hand reached out hesitantly and cupped her face, trying to ground her.

“I didn’t mean to,” Y/N whispered, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to fall apart.”

Mick’s thumb brushed away a few tears, his touch was delicate. “It’s okay, sometimes the world just seems so loud, doesn’t it?” He said softly. 

Y/N nodded softly, and a fresh wave of tears spilled from her eyes.

“I just got so overwhelmed. The crowd, the noise. Everything. You guys up there, powerful and untouchable. A reminder that I’m just a roadie. I’m nothing.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t,” Mick's face softened, his tone a little firm. “You’re more than enough, roadie or not. Trust me, even on stage, we all have our moments of fear.” “You? Scared?” Y/N asked, in disbelief.

“Absolutely. Every show, there’s a bit of me that is terrified. But I deal with it by playing my music.” Mick nods, giving her a small smile.

“I don’t know how to do that. How to turn this into something good.” She admitted sheepishly.

Mick moved his hand from her cheek down to her shoulder, rubbing small circles.

“You don’t have to know right now. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. Just remember, you’re here, you’re trying. That takes courage. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Thank you for finding me, for talking to me. I didn’t realise how much I needed it.”

“You’re not alone, okay? If you ever need a talk or a quiet space, I’m always here. Please come find me.” His gaze never left hers.

“I will.” Y/N agreed, his offer was like a lifeline to her. She finally began to calm down.

“Good, now, let’s go get you somewhere more comfortable.” Mick’s smile widened. He guided her away from the cold wall, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, he was like a safety blanket to her. As they walked through the backstage corridors, Mick held onto her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone.

Mick’s dressing room was silent, a significant contrast to the crowd from earlier. Mick took Y/ over to a comfy chair and sat her down before he pulled up another one next to her and sat down himself.

“Do you want to talk about it? What upset you?” Mick asked gently.

“It’s just… everything. The pressure, expectations. Feeling like I’m not enough, seeing other people be so confident.” She took a deep breath.

“I understand,” Mick said, he’d listened to her every word. “It’s so easy to look at other people and only see their strengths, but everyone has their weaknesses, their struggles. They find ways to deal with them.”

“I don’t know how to deal with mine, I feel like I’m drowning.” Y/N admitted, looking down.

“One step at a time, okay?” He squeezed her hand. “Remember, you’re not alone. I’m here to help you, to care about you.”

His gentle tone brought tears of gratitude to her eyes.

“Thank you, Mick. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. I got you.” He smiled, kissing her cheek.

Y/N blushed a little and leaned into Mick’s touch. For the first time in a while, she felt safe and loved.