#so sometimes the vulnerability of showing my face in a space where I don't usually is a necessary little shakeup.

[onewordshy]

Hm okay so I brushed my teeth without a shirt on and had to confront my human form and now I'm posting a photo for posterity to show that I did, at one point in my life while working manual labor, have an arm. But I hate it when a photo is really big so I'm including a second photo as well of the outfit I wore to the Chappell Roan concert I went to a few months ago. That's all.

[spectersgf]

— driver's seat storm chasing 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

pairing: tyler owens × reader 

summary: he was about to take off again, chase another storm, leave you worrying for hours upon hours. the least he could do was give you a parting gift.

warnings: SMUT! kinda angsty a little, cute yeehaw banter, cowgirlisms, hair pull, ass smack, titty suck. all the good stuff.

wordcount: 3.2k

a/n: watched twisters literally two days ago, had this thought, here we are. not proofread at all (as always, soz) but filled with passion (and horny)

(if you want to be tagged in future fics or if you have any requests, let me know! for my other fics, here's my masterlist!)

"oh, you're such a prick, tyler owens!"

you were shouting at your best friend, which was a regular occurrence due to his dangerous passion. tyler was a professional 'tornado wrangler' which was his idiotic way of saying he chased tornadoes for the sake of content creation. you knew it went much deeper than that for him; this was his passion and he was smart and knew so much about storms, but that doesn't mean he wasn't stupid and reckless.

he had just come back from a particularly dangerous storm, one that left you more worried for his safety than ever before. you cried seeing him come back to town and fretted over his injuries and bruises, begging him to stop and not go again.

according to what he just told you, your begging was pointless.

he was about to take off again, chase another storm, put himself back in harm's way. leave you worrying for hours upon hours, shaking until he'd return.

"do i mean nothing to you? does my begging and pleading mean nothing?" your voice was strained but you didn't lower your volume, desperate for him to see your anguish.

"you know that's not the case, darlin', but storm chasing is my life. you know that better than anyone." his tone was much steadier than yours, and his comments were entirely reasonable. you knew how much of his time he dedicated to his passion, but that didn't stop your frustration.

"don't play that fucking card with me, ty. it's not even been 48 hours since i thought you'd died, and now you're up and leaving again!" your anger had subsided and your tone had softened, now showing vulnerability and hurt. your shoulders sagged and you turned away from him, tears that you didn't want him to see stinging your eyes.

"y/n..." his voice trailed off, unsure if he was supposed to move to comfort you or give you space.

“you don’t understand what it does to me to see you walk out that door, ty. every single time i’m stuck asking myself if today’s the day i lose my best friend. and i know you’re careful and you know your stuff and you’re basically a pro but sometimes i can’t even bring myself to watch the streams and the videos because i’m so scared.” you rambled your confession, back still turned away from him but you’d started pacing. when you finished speaking, you turned to face him, eyes pleading. “i’m not asking you to stop. i’d never ask you to quit your passion. i just wish you’d understand from my perspective.”

"i'm sorry," he started, but you knew where his apology was headed. "but i have to do this. this is my life, and i'm helping people by doing this."

your tear-filled gaze met his as he spoke, and the look of sincerity on his face made you cave, as usual. "fine, go. it's not like i could've stopped you."

you watched him pick up his hat and place it easily on his head as he turned to walk away. he opened the door but turned before heading out. "you know i love you, y/n," he said quietly, sounding almost defeated.

his words struck you but before you could say anything, he was out the door. for a couple of minutes you stood in place, stunned at his proclamation. when you finally snapped out of your shock, you walked out the door, following behind him as he walked to his truck.

it had started to rain and the water caused his shirt to stick to him like a second skin, but you didn't allow yourself any time to ogle his physique. you reached out and grabbed his arm, feeling his cold skin against your warm touch. you pulled his arm, forcing him to turn and face you as you seethed.

"love me how?" you asked, obviously distressed. the rain was making your hair to stick to your face but you didn't care; all you cared about was the man in front of you. your best friend. "love me how, tyler?"

"y/n..." for the second time today his voice trailed off after saying your name like that and it infuriated you. your face burned from embarrassment and before you had fully processed your reaction, you slapped him.

when he turned his head back to look at you again, his eyes were swimming with hurt. you loved his eyes. you hated seeing them like this. but all you could focus on was your own hurt. after years of being his best friend but craving more, and years of casual touches and flirting and cuddling and rumours in your small town, this is what it had come to. a halfway confession.

"fuck you," you spit before turning away to walk back inside.

this time, it was tyler who reached out to grab you. his big hand encased your bicep and forced you to face him again. before you could say anything, he spun you around so that you were pinned against the door of his truck.

"what the fuck is your probl–" your words were abruptly cut off when he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. you stood still in shock for a few seconds before melting into him, one hand on the junction between his neck and shoulder, the other hand on his bicep. meanwhile, he had one hand on your waist and the other held your face, fingers splaying across your cheek and neck. you kissed him back with passion and vigour, easily letting his tongue explore your mouth for the first time.

your hands snakes upwards, pulling his hat off his head and slipping it onto yours while your free hand fisted his hair, threading your fingers through his locks. his hand trailed from your waist to your ass as he pulled away from your kiss for a second.

"you sure you wanna wear my hat, darlin'?" he panted, raising one cocky eyebrow as his eyes searched yours.

"wear the hat, ride the cowboy, right?" you asked, smirking confidently. he immediately matched your facial expression, smirking in return, but his eyes twinkled with joy and amusement.

tyler was much taller than you and evidently he was starting to see your height difference as an issue, since he brought his other hand down to your ass and lifted you, urging your legs around his waist and bringing you face to face. he kissed you again, just a quick kiss, before asking, "so, cowgirl. where are we doing this?"

"if i'm the cowgirl, are you my wild stallion?" you teased playfully, smiling as you looked at him affectionately. after seeing the fiery look in his eyes, you were unable to resist, and you pulled his mouth to yours once again, this kiss more intense than the last. you messily pulled his bottom lip into your mouth and sucked on it, followed by a gentle bite, before pulling away and desperately kissing down his neck. "i want you in your truck. driver's seat," you murmured against his skin.

before tyler was able to haul you into his truck, you detached yourself from him. once your feet were safely back on the ground, you eagerly grabbed the hem of his soaked t-shirt and peeled it off his tanned torso, shamelessly admiring his body as you did. you dragged your nails across his toned abdomen and brought your mouth to his chest, sucking and biting at his skin. you could barely register his groan, only able to focus on his body and being able to maintain skin-to-skin contact with him.

tyler pulled you away from him by gently tugging on your hair and you looked at him quizzically. "ty, what the hell?"

"enough teasing, cowgirl. time to ride the stallion," he told you, causing you both to erupt in a fit of giggles.

"never say that again, tyler," you replied, leaning up to peck him quickly.

he picked you up briefly and immediately put you down in a spot away from the driver's side door and swiftly got comfortable in his van, away from the cold rain. while he did so, you made quick work of unbuttoning your flannel shirt, leaving you in just a lacy, sheer bra and jeans. and his hat. once he was seated, tyler gave you a thorough once-over, letting out a low whistle as he did.

"somebody call for a ride?" his playful tone was supplemented by his signature cheeky smile, but you rolled your eyes at his comment.

"god, you're so fuckin' corny."

you boosted yourself into the truck, situating yourself easily on his lap. you shuffled around to get comfortable on tyler's lap and were rewarded with a strained groan. this time it was you giving him a cheeky smile followed by a quick roll of your hips over his. he placed his hands firmly on your waist, fingers dipping into your jeans and stopping your movements.

"keep that up and this'll be over before it started, sweetheart," he told you, voice strained and you could tell it was from arousal. you watched his mouth as he spoke and, unable to resist him, you leaned in and kissed him again. your almost bare chest was pressed against his and your hands roamed his skin, picking up water droplets as they went. the feel of his toned muscle under your hands caused you to moan into his mouth, turning tyler on even more.

his hands wound into your hair, all the way up to the root, and he tugged lightly. you whimpered and dragged your hips over his, and when tyler pulled away from your kiss you unconsciously followed his movement. tyler clicked his tongue in condescending disapproval but smirked at your reaction to him.

“needy for me, baby?” he asked mockingly, one hand on your hips to halt your movement again, the other still tangled in your hair.. you nodded your response, not trusting yourself to speak in your current state. “words, sweetheart. what do you need?”

you whined but when you realised he wasn’t going to do anything until you spelled it out for him, you let out an exasperated huff. “need you to fuck me.”

tyler laughed affectionately at your desperation. “there you go, sweetheart. that’s what i like to hear.” you preened from his praise, craving to receive it again. with the hand that was on your hips, he undid the button of your jeans and pulled the zipper down with a quiet hiss. instead of pulling down the restrictive fabric like you expected, he slipped his hand into your barely-existent underwear and stroked with a featherlike touch. 

“this all for me?” he asked as he dragged a finger through your arousal; you were soaked and his teasing tone was only making it worse. you dropped your head onto his shoulder and tried to slyly jerk your hips forward, though you were unable to. “patience, baby. i’ve chased this storm so long, now let me enjoy it.”

his words jolted you caused a moan to fall from your mouth. your skin was feverish despite the biting cold and you were becoming increasingly desperate. “next time, please, tyler. i need you inside me, please,” you begged, mouth against his tan skin. 

he didn’t say anything in response, only chuckled quietly to himself as he removed his hand from your underwear. he brought his hand up to your mouth and you looked him in the eye as you took one finger, the one that had been touching you, into your mouth and sucked. you bobbed your head back and forth for just a few seconds and hummed quietly around the digit in your mouth before releasing it and pulling tyler’s mouth to yours in a heated kiss, urging him to taste you from your own mouth. 

“god, if we weren’t in my truck right now i’d have my mouth on your sweet cunt,” he grumbled.

“don’t care, need your cock inside me.” without breaking your kiss, you pushed your jeans down over your hips but only to your knees. “i’m ready, you know i’m ready, what are we waiting for?” you asked frantically. you started to paw at his stupid belt but his hands covered yours, stopping you from getting to what you were craving.

“are you sure? we can’t go back after this and you know it.” his eyes were swimming with concern as he spoke, searching yours for any indication of your feelings. 

you moved one hand to his face, placing it on his cheek and stroking his cheekbone delicately with your thumb. “i want this. i have for a longass time. i’ve felt it for so long, and now i’m finally chasing it. are you chasing it with me?” your words were entirely sincere and this was obvious to tyler, especially when you looked in his eyes and deep into his soul.

“using my own words against me?” he teased, breaking the tension in a charming way that only he could pull off. “i’m with you.” his words were equally sincere, though you could sense the double meaning. you weren’t distressed by it; his way of telling you how he was feeling made your heart swell and added to your already dripping arousal.

you resumed your work on removing his belt, followed by unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper. tyler could only watch cockily as you did so, both hands behind his head, muscles flexing, as he admired your naked beauty. jeans pulled down, only a sheer bra covering your breasts, and his hat on your head.

“go on, baby. take me out; it’s all yours.”

his words empowered you and you happily obliged, appreciating his quiet hiss as you made contact with his skin once again. you tunnel visioned on his thick cock in your hand, swiping your thumb over the tip and pumping it once, twice, three times. tyler watched your every moment and facial expression, and he could see you practically salivating, bringing a wide and cocky smirk to his face. “another time,” he murmured despite his better opinion of letting you take him in your mouth the way you so obviously craved. you simply nodded in agreement, seemingly in a trance as you eyed the way your smaller hand wrapped around his girth. 

the feeling of his hands on your hips gently urging you forwards and upwards snapped you out of your dreamlike state but you didn’t resist his manhandling; instead, you welcomed the way he took control of the situation. took control of you. 

before proceeding further he looked you in the eyes again, showing that same sincerity and vulnerability, silently asking ‘are you sure you’re sure?’. you smiled at the gesture, appreciative of his concern, and nodded. your eyes sparkled with excitement as you brought your bottom lip between your teeth and reached behind you to guide tyler’s hard cock into your wetness. the pair of you moaned in tandem as you sunk down on him, fitting together perfectly. 

“c’mere, cowgirl,” he murmured, voice heavy with arousal. you shifted forward with him inside you, pulling a groan from deep within his chest as he pulled you in for another kiss. the combination of his searing kiss and the way he filled you up was electrifying. your entire body moved on its own accord, as if you had come alive for the first time; your mouth worked against his and you circled your hips against his and you were consumed entirely by him. 

one of his hands pawed at your ass while the other worked on removing your bra. when he did finally get your bra unhooked, it was practically ripped off your body and thrown to the backseat. tyler’s lips reluctantly left yours but they immediately attached to your right breast, with his hand squeezing the left. he sucked a harsh mark into the flesh before his mouth circled your peaked nipple, sucking eagerly before rolling it gently between his teeth. 

“you have no idea how desperate i’ve been to get my mouth on your pretty tits, sweetheart,” he mumbled against you. his words caused your hips to stutter against his as you rode him, hitting your sweet spot and forcing a high pitched moan from you. 

“i need you to do it, ty,” you whimpered, hungry for him to take control again.

“such a good girl, telling me what you need.” his praise made you glow and you unconsciously clenched your muscles around him.

his grip on your ass tightened slightly before he slapped it, deliciously stinging your skin. you moaned and jerked forward again and your head immediately fell backwards, eyes rolling back. 

“god, y/n, you’re a walking turn on,” he moaned, hips starting to buck as he fucked into you. “you have no fuckin’ idea what you do to me. the number of times i’ve wanted to do this with you right here, audience be damned. the way i crave the taste of your sweet cunt on my tongue. having to stop myself from smacking your ass or squeezing your tits whenever you’re in those tiny bikinis or scraps of fabric that you call pyjamas. and now you’re mine and we can do all of it.”

you moaned and whimpered pathetically throughout tyler’s speech, the words that you were longing to hear from him finally being voiced while he fucked you. 

“i’m close,” you mumbled, bringing your hand to your mouth to muffle your noises. “need you to fill me up.”

his eyes squeezed shut due to your muffled words and he pulled your hand away from your mouth. “i’ll give you whatever you need, baby, but i need to hear you when i do,” he told you, linking your fingers together and resting your joined hands on his glistening chest. “cum for me, sweet girl. cum on my cock, let me feel you.”

his words tipped you over the edge and your muscles spasmed around him as you reached your climax, moaning his name as you did. tyler followed suit, filling you upon your request. 

“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, pulling your chest to his and kissing you again, sweetly this time despite your expectations.

the pair of you were a panting, sweaty mess when you both finished, but you didn’t break any of your attachments. he didn’t pull out of you, and he didn’t let you loosen your embrace.

“i guess you could say i wrangled your tornado, hm?” 

“you did not say that to me while i have your dick and cum inside me right now, tyler owens.”

“c’mon, darlin’, you obviously like my lines,” he teased, smiling sweet and sincere.

“more than just your lines. i like you,” you confessed, voice quiet and shy out of fear of rejection.

“yeah? you got a li’l crush on me?” his playful and teasing tone made you smile. dissipating any worries you had. this was the boy you were falling for. 

“just a little one. really, i’m just here for your truck.” the banter between the two of you was light and easy, something that you both always appreciated about each other. you clicked. 

“yeah, cowgirl, i know how you feel about my truck.”

you giggled at his response and kissed the bare, warm skin on his shoulder.

“you’re the most beautiful storm i’ve chased, y/n.” he looked into your eyes as he spoke, voice quiet as if speaking too loud would disrupt the moment.

“that’s funny. because you’re the sun coming up after the storm.”

WHEW! first tyler fic done bbz<333 more to come, requests are open HERE! if you want to be tagged in future fics lmk, please tell me what you think, even if you think i should never write again ok thank u bye ily bye

taglist: @ronsbadidea

[whorediaries-09]

hello! im kinda shy about participating in your birthday event so im submitting my ask though my old abandoned account but firstly, happy birthday!! i hope you have a lovely lovely one ahead, and that your year ahead is filled so much love and warmth 💗💗

i pick “you wanted to have fun 🪶”

i have brown-amber eyes, i’m 160-161cm tall (so 5’3? i think). i have one dimple, and i usually get called mild-mannered or sweet a lot (even in school reports 😓), based on my face and actions i think

i’m not very athletic, and if anything, i hate anything sporty. i’m an infp, i speak three languages, and i generally dress in a softer manner. i also never really cared for mbti types but ive been an infp for years, and every year, i meet new people who pick up on that without any prompting.

i am generally much more emotional (not in an overly sensitive way, but in the way where my heart with ache and ill probably cry for days if someone i loved was hurt). but im also really noisy and shameless with the right people, and i love that i have people like that in my life, who i feel safe and happy with. i can be loud and free, even in public settings, i just need to be happy and safe first. i used to get bullied and ostracised as a child (for being a little chubby, and quiet, and a book lover. sometimes i still go a little stiff or feel so weird when i get complimented on my face and body. especially now that ive grown up, and receive such compliments from strangers and friends. it just causes a really bad reaction sometimes.) so im always very grateful for the love i have in my life.

i like to read, write (i write on tumblr too! just for a different fandom, although i might write for the marauders soon, i just love them too much to write without feeling too soft inside bcs im just emotional like that), and i love to daydream to music while pacing around the house at night. i’m usually really good with crafty things like crocheting, embroidery, and just general crafts. i don’t think i’m very good at other artsy things, but i am studying a course which involves art history, but i plan to go into a literature field where i can also dabble in history.

last thing about me: i talk a lot, which i’m sure you may have already noticed 😓😓 ironic considering the fact that i used to have selective mutism from an anxiety disorder as a child. but still!!

i hope i havent rambled too much— i love the marauders, and ive loved them (oh omg its almost been a decade) since i was a child. i revisit everything every now and then, but this is my first time actually interacting with anyone in the marauders space.

i hope you have a lovely lovely day ahead, and thank you for hosting this game! stay safe and warm 💗💗

hello lovely! firstly i want to thank so much you for the wish, though i feel obliged to tell you that my birthday is on the day the event ends haha. and i usually don't say this but you seem like such a sweet sweet person oh my gosh! lastly, thank you for sending in a request!

i ship you with james potter!

james knows he's a goner since the first time he talked to you. he's completely entranced, head over heels if you will. and his feelings only deepen as the time passes by because how can they not? with every interaction you're crawling out of your comfort zone the more you interact with each other. as he starts knowing about your true self, he's just finds himself falling for you harder and faster.

you're not much into sports, and he's attracted to that fact, because to him, it's a nice escape from his professional life. he thinks it's a nice and a very much needed escape from the constant hustle and bustle from that life, since he's very famous and well known around the world.

he likes how emotional you are. he thinks it's refreshing because most people nowadays aren't very vulnerable; or show emotions. he thinks it's raw, and real. as someone who's emotional himself, he likes the fact that you're emotionally available, and not afraid to express yourself. so whether you're being shameless and loud or sad and gloomy, he likes every bit your expressive self. he likes that you're not pretentious about your personality and how you're true with your own self.

he's noticed that you resist and become uncomfortable when he compliments you. he doesn't comment on it, but he's taken on himself to make sure you understand that he means every compliment that he showers you with.

james is also very entranced by the fact that you carry such a bunch of artistic hobbies. he likes how you engage in the things that make you happy. he likes to read the things you write. he also tries to spoil you with books you even lay a finger on while strolling through the book store. he also buys you a lot of crocheting yarns in different colors for you to crochet. out of pure love, you crochet him a lot of beanies. you also love to embroider designs on his t-shirts, and he wears them with pride.

and last but not the least, he loves the fact that you're so talkative. james is a naturally talkative person and he loves that you talk so much, which is refreshing to him, because he's usually used to carry conversations. it's nice to stop once and listen to someone he loves so much.

hopefully the ship didn't disappoint! have a nice day/night ahead :)! (also if you ever write about the marauders, please do tag me, i'd love to read your work!)

join my celebration!

[syubub]

What makes BTS most vulnerable

Woo! A reading! I wanted to do this bc its been on my list for a little while now!

I just got off work and wanted to do this asap! Pls forgive mistakes! I'm not gonna proof read bc im lazy.

Cheeky disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes and not to be taken as fact! This is my interpretation of the cards!!

So so so so

First off, I did each member and also one for the group! I didn't have a specific plan in mind when I started, so I just went with the flow!

Let's start with the group first

So. The 5 of pentacles is what makes them most vulnerable. This card talks about isolation, feeling lost, anxiety, not having money or influence. Most of all, a mindset of lack.

All of this to me makes me think that what makes them most vulnerable is the fear of being right back where they started. Feeling exiled from the industry, not having the funds to be sure of a stable future and also not having a strong sense of identity as a group and within the group. It's like their vulnerability comes from something almost like ptsd? Let me try to make that make more sense. I genuinely think that where they started and the uncertainty and constant ridicule really had an impact on them. The vulnerability they have as a group is essentially emotional distress? Like, I wish I had better words to explain. It's the fear that they haven't actually grown or gotten anywhere and that they are insignificant that is their vulnerability. Fear based on where they started?

I really hope that made sense. Moving on though, 7 of swords is how it manifests for them. This card is sneaky. It talks about getting away with something and betrayal but I think this meaning is the most relevant: strategic moves. So how their vulnerability manifests is that the fear that they have causes them (and the company) to make very specific moves to keep their fears from happening. It's like, they take steps to make sure their fears don't get realized. Career wise but also personally. They can sometimes force growth because they fear stagnation. Kinda like rolling something uphill? Once it loses momentum it starts rolling back down.

The other two cards, Wellness and busy times and multitasking, are what they can do to lessen that vulnerability. Keeping healthy in mind body and spirit (also keeping the group bond healthy too) as well as channeling their emotions and fears into productivity. (Think the ly:tear album)

Seokjin

This is really intresting. So, what makes him most vulnerable is repressed emotion that causes inner turmoil. The moon is all about your insides and the vastness it has. In its reverse it talks about the darker parts of your subconscious. So, him bottling shit up and repressing it becomes a monster that affects him without him even necessarily knowing.

As for how that manifest in his life, it literally affects his judgment. Like, literally. It messes with his decision making.

As a fellow human with a similar problem, I can almost bet that any issue he has with another member will be shoved away and it will fester until he's at his breaking point and he'll absolutely weaponize it but disguise it as "just poking fun" or he might also purposefully create low level chaos. It's really intresting because this could manifest in so many ways. It could be his insecurities, issues with other people, fears ect and they fester in his brain space fucking with his judgment.

What he can do to lessen this vulnerability is deep emotional healing. Istg these cards are too perfect to make up. He needs to do THE WORK and heal it. He probably recognizes this and is working on it. Its not fair to himself to put himself aside in order to put other people first. (I think this probably happened a lot in the early bts days bc he had to be an older brother and a responsible figure to 6 other kids so he prioritized group harmony over his own issues and emotions)

Yoongi

????

Um, okay. So what makes yoongi most vulnerable is the dark side of wealth. That's the 10 of pentacles rev. But it gets interesting bc the 10 of swords isn't what makes him vulnerable but it also isn't how it manifests?? So here's my theory time. What makes him most vulnerable is the dark side of wealth. I can only assume that it's the isolation and internal conflict of benefiting off of a system that fucked you over in the first half of your life and also feeling bad for having wealth that most people can never imagine? I really don't know? But with the 10 of swords talking about betrayal and deep wounds, it could be that he's extremely afraid of being taken advantage of? Like, that's another downside of wealth. Maybe people have tried to use him for money or influence? Especially in his personal life. Like, he probably finds it extremely hard to get close to people because he's afraid of betrayal over something that is already hard for him to deal with?

Also loss. He wasn't born rich. He worked his ass off to get what he has and he's probably afraid to lose it. He might "stash" money?

Anyway, knight of swords, how it manifests. This card is about a drive to succeed. So essentially this makes him run and push himself hard and harder and harder to out run what he sees as an inevitable end? Sometimes this can blind him.

As for what he can do to lessen this vulnerability, we have, self confidence through God confidence. This card to me talks about having faith in your actions and skills and trusting in yourself even if you doubt your ability. Essentially, yoongi just needs to trust in himself to land on his feet no matter what happens. Life is always uncertain so he needs to trust that he can weather any storm he might face.

Hoseok

This was one gave me some thoughts. So, similar to jin, it's the bottling shit up and having you subconscious mind eventually figure shit out because it's been neglected but with the 2 of swords in reverse, talking about confusion and being indecisive, I think this kinda causes him to shut down? He might get apathetic. It's almost like when you work a computer so hard that it crashes.

And how this manifests for him with the 3 of pentacles in reverse is that he gets thrown out of alignment with the group. Kinda like how you shouldn't drive on a flat tire. He withdraws and becomes hard to reach and puts up a wall that causes a lot of problems for him as well as those he is around. It's a defense mechanism. It can also manifest in him preferring to work alone as well instead of group settings.

This exposes him to depression and doubt.

Also similar to jin, for how to lessen this vulnerability we have Bless your heart with talks about reaching out (breaking down that wall) and healing your heart and healing the root issue.

Namjoon

Okay. This is the one that makes so much sense but also confuses me.

So. What makes him most vulnerable is the magician rev and 10 of cups. Unrealized potential and poor planning as well as love, harmony and alignment.

So.... what? How does love and the happiest happiness make him vulnerable?

Well, I think he's suspicious of it. I think that he can't help but wonder in his big big big brain if THIS is the right happy or if its really happiness at all? Almost like commitment issues but also not? It's like, he's afraid that it won't last? He might have trouble fully allowing himself happiness. Also, what makes him the most vulnerable is love. It opens up every bit of his soul and puts it on a laundry line for everyone to see and I don't think he thinks he's worthy enough to be seen like that?

As for how it manifests in his life, 9 of cups, personal fulfillment and a strive to have everything else in hislife sorted out? Essentially wanting to have a perfect foundation so eventually he can share with all the important people in his life.

As for what he can do. Value your self worth. pretty straight up. He needs to value himself more. He deserve love and he deserves to feel seen even if it's uncomfortable at first.

Jimin

Oki. What makes jimin most vulnerable is choice. The 7 of cups talks about focusing on what's best for you and making choices based not on illusion. I think jimin is plagued by unrealistic expectations and confronting the fact that it's not possible is what makes him most vulnerable. He makes choices that are driven by illusion. Usually about self. I think specifically about how he doesn't always see how good he already is so he pushes himself to chase after something that isn't always right for him or even there in the first place. Acknowledging and facing it brings vulnerability that he doesn't always want to face. I think he might equate vulnerability to powerlessness.

How it manifests. 9 of wands rev. Paranoia and being defensive. It's his own fear and insecurities manifesting outside of himself.

As for what he can do, passion and purpose and multifaceted. Focus on what is close to his heart and don't get side tracked. Theres so much more to this situation and there isn't an easy fix. There's a lot of things that need working on in order for him to feel comfortable.

Taehyung

Oki oki oki. What makes Tae most vulnerable is strength rev. Raw emotion. He doesn't always express his emotions and when he chooses to be more open, his emotions go through a bit of a filter. Showing his unfiltered emotions makes him most vulnerable because it's him as he is. In his truest form. It's all of his wants, joys, fears. Everything.

As for how it manifests, 10 of wands and Hanged man, it becomes a burden that he carries because he feels like he can't just be honest. He pauses and allows himself time to feel on his own but that means possibly being misunderstood and a bit isolated.

Now. What can he do to lessen it? Bless your heart and healthy communication in relationships. TALKING TO PEOPLE AND ALLOWING HIMSELF THAT VULNERABILITY. It's not bad to be vulnerable. Heal that shit bb bc you are worth it.

Jungkook

So, what makes him most vulnerable? The world in rev. Not having closure and seeking it. The process of seeking closure for himself about things that could have or putting to rest something that has come full circle. It brings vulnerability because he has to face things that he could have done better. He has to face things coming to a close and be okay with is.

How it manifests, the tower, ace of cups, 5 of cups reversed.

The tower is essentially everything crumbling down. I think jk thinks too much? If you follow a ball of yarn all the way to the end then you just unraveled a whole ass ball of yarn.

Him going to close those things cause him to unravel his foundation.

With the ace of cups, creativity and love/ new emotions, I think him taking the time to pursue personal closure helps him to be more open to love as well as giving him creative fuel.

The 5 of cups rev. Means that him doing this closure thing helps him to forgive himself bc he's taking time to move on and tie up loose ends?

For jk this closure thing manifests in every aspect of his like and I almost see it as him shedding? Sounds weird but he's consciously moving on and paying attention to what he needs?

As for what he can do? Deep emotional healing! He runs the risk of feeling more of the tower manifestation so he needs to keep himself emotionally healthy in order for this to be productive instead of destructive!

~~~~~~~

I hope y'all like this! I feel like the cards didn't always follow what I was kinda going for with my questions but it all works out in the end I guess?

My next reading will be up later this week (I've already done it and taken all of my notes. I just have to type it all out) so look foward to that as well!

[wondernimbus]

breathe — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

prompt: her death leaves behind a void in draco’s chest nothing can ever fill.

t/w: death and mentions of anxiety

requests are open. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

Five months.

He's gone five months without her. And he's determined to keep going—he has to. He has to. 

But goddamn does it bloody well hurt.

—

In the middle of a quiet cemetery stands a boy in a black suit and a cluster of white roses clasped in his hands, eyes staring but unseeing as he stands over one of the countless tombstones with his heart in his throat and what feels like a gaping hole inside his chest.

"I miss you."

Snow falls from the sky. Bits of it sink deep into the fabric of his suit, fall into his hair, some onto his face. But Draco doesn't feel it, the bite of the cold. His knuckles may have turned a pinkish red from the frost and his blond hair may have turned stiff from the flakes of snow stuck in it, but he doesn't feel cold.

He's been cold for five months now. He can't feel it anymore.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

It has, says the voice inside his head that keeps him company when he feels the loneliest—when the pain becomes too much to bear—the voice that he knows isn't real and hates that it isn't. The one that sounds painfully like her.

"Yeah," Draco continues, bottom lip trembling, and it's not because of the snow. "I'm doing okay." He lies. Keeps lying. "I think I'm getting better."

He's not. He can't get better, not when he sees traces of her everywhere, even when she isn't really there.

He sees a wooden desk and remembers her with her head bowed over a sheet of parchment, tongue poking out of her lips in concentration as she chides him—"Not now, Draco, I'm studying"—he pulls out an old chessboard from the crevices of his closet and remembers her grinning in triumph over winning a particularly intense chess game even though he lost on purpose—he walks past a park and remembers lying on the grass in the Hogwarts courtyard with his head in her lap and her fingers raking through his hair as she told him Muggle stories of love and tears and laughter and everything in between. Stories with happy endings; so unlike Draco's and hers.

He squeezes his eyes shut; tears fall and trickle down his cheek onto the ground, joining the bundle of snow at his feet. 

"Life hasn't really been the same since—"

A sob tears its way up his throat and out of his lips before he can even think about suppressing it. 

"—since you left."

With his other hand—the hand that's not grasping onto the bouquet of roses like it's a lifeline—he wipes his tears away aggressively, almost angrily.

"I've started talking to myself a lot lately even though I know you're not going to respond because I've been so used to you being here to listen and now you're not."

Another sob. Pathetic, says a voice inside Draco's head. Not her voice. Never hers. She would never make him feel bad for feeling things—no, she'd crouch down next to him on the floor, wrap her arms around him and say "Everything's going to be okay, love. I'm right here with you. Right here" and he'd look up at her and start crying even harder, because in a world where his parents expected too much from him and he was never good enough, he had her.

Or, well. He used to.

Draco clenches his fists, nails digging crescents into his skin as his breathing gets uneven and the air suddenly feels too tight. He tries to ground himself by inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth and repeating the process—

"That's it, love. Keep breathing. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." 

Draco took another shaky breath, trying to focus on her face even though her features were blurred and he didn't quite know where to look through the tears obscuring his vision.

Panic attacks. He hated them. Hated the hand that felt like it had reached straight into his chest and started squeezing. Hated the tears that slipped out of his eyes almost automatically.

"It's okay, Draco. Breathe with me."

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, shoulders trembling from the effort. "You're doing such a good job, Draco," she said gently. Draco let out a long, shuddering breath. "You're doing so well. Now breathe. Breathe with me. In through the nose, out through the mouth—that's it, love, keep going. In through the—the—" her voice broke. Draco couldn't see it—and maybe it was better that way—but she'd started crying at some point.

"In through the nose," she continued, swallowing back a sob. "Out through the mouth. I love you, Draco. You're gonna be okay."

"I know you'd probably get mad at me for this if you were here, but sometimes.. well.. sometimes I find myself wishing I was dead."

And even though there's no one around that's listening and Draco is the only living, breathing soul among the countless graves, he feels exposed. Bare. Like he's laid his biggest vulnerability out for the rest of the world to see. 

"I wake up everyday," he says slowly, a crease in between his brows, "I stare up at the ceiling for a little bit. And then I get up, eat, sleep. Get up, eat, sleep. Over and over and over again."

A pause. "It all just seems so.. pointless," he bows his head, staring at his shoes as though he's ashamed. And he is. He's ashamed that he's like this—because he knows that if she were here (which she isn't, says that annoying little voice at the back of his head) she'd smack him upside the head and say

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco," she rolled her eyes, glancing up for a brief moment before transferring her gaze back to the textbook in her hands. 

Draco fell quiet again, staring into the embers of the fireplace. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to ask her to drop everything and run away with him on a whim.

A few seconds passed in silence. She looked up at him again out of concern to find that he hadn't moved at all. A twinge of sadness plucked at her chest and she sighed, closing the book with a soft snap as she set it down on the floor. 

Draco lost himself in his thoughts sometimes. It wasn't a common occurrence, but she'd seen it enough times to know how bad it could get inside his head. It was a side of himself that he only felt comfortable enough showing to her and her only—a side that he'd kept well hidden under the facade of arrogance he always had put up.

It was when he would start thinking about—well—everything. How he never seemed to match up to his parent's expectations no matter how hard he tried. He'd think about his obligations as the heir of one of the oldest pureblooded wizarding families. He'd think about his future and wonder if he deserved one with her with that dirty mark on his wrist.

Usually it would take quite a while to snap him out of his reverie, but tonight Draco seemed more lost in his thoughts than ever before. When she got up from the carpet to sit down next to him on the couch, his eyes were still hazy and unfocused. "Draco," she murmured, sitting with her feet tucked underneath her as she turned to face him. "Draco?"

Her hands reached out for Draco's, fingers slipping into the spaces between his own of their own accord. At this, he blinked, his gaze clearing, and looked at her. 

"Love," he breathed quietly.

She pursed her lips in a small smile, squeezing his hand in hers. "I'm here," she told him, basking in the silence of the Slytherin common room, only interrupted by the sound of her and Draco's breathing and the crackling sounds from the fireplace. She shifted on the couch to make herself more comfortable, leaning the side of her head on Draco's shoulder and ignoring the ache of sadness in her chest that would always come when Draco felt down.

"Galleon for your thoughts?" she whispered.

Draco unlaced her hand from his to slowly trace the lines on her palm with his index finger. "It'd take much more than a galleon, love," he whispered back, and there was a ghost of a small smile on his lips, but it was blanketed by the worry etched deep into his face. 

The corners of her mouth tugged up into a sad smile. There was nothing in the world that she wanted more than to rid Draco of all the worries plaguing his head. He'd grown up surrounded by so much despair and for years he had no one but himself to carry his burden with, but now here she was. And even though she'd already done everything she could to help him—and she continued to do so every single day—it never felt like it was enough. 

"You know you can always tell me everything, yeah?" she said quietly, looking up at him from the corner of her eyes. 

Draco, with his gaze fixed on their hands, nodded. "Yeah."

"I mean it. Always."

He smiled, and it was a real one this time. "I know."

The snow has stopped falling. Draco tastes tears, hot and salty, on his tongue. 

"I'm going to keep going, though," he tells her. Hangs onto the tiny sliver of hope he has that she is out there somewhere, listening. "I'm going to.. I'm going to keep getting up and eating and sleeping until it doesn't feel so tiring anymore. Okay?"

Silence. "Does that sound good, love?"

Like shouting into a canyon and waiting for an echo that would never come. 

"I know that's what you'd want," he says quietly, gritting his teeth. "For me to keep living. Not to give up. So that's what I'm going to do."

"Don't give up."

Draco snorted out a laugh. "Shouldn't you be telling yourself that?"

He was sitting with her at their usual table in the library; the one right by the window near the restricted section. She had a Potions quiz tomorrow—Draco being the "smartass" he was (or so she called him), didn't need to study, but she did. Him being her boyfriend, he'd offered to tutor her, unaware that it was easier said than done. She just couldn't, for the life of her, get the terms right. 

She scoffed. "I don't need to tell myself that. I won't give up no matter what—you, on the other hand.."

Draco scrunched his nose. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying you have a tendency to stop trying and call it a day."

"That is a lie."

"Is not."

"Well, I suppose it depends on the task—if it's tutoring you, then anyone's bound to give up.."

"Hey!" she reached over the table to smack him on the shoulder. He swiftly dodged, laughing. She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the smile on her face as she sat back down. "Maybe I should be getting a different tutor."

"Or maybe you should just be studying harder."

"Or maybe you should actually be trying to teach me—"

"I am!"

"—without giving up halfway!" 

Draco huffed. "Okay. Fine. Let's try this again. What's another word for wolfsbane?"

"Um," a pause. "No idea. Okay. I'm sorry." 

He let out an overly dramatic sound of complaint. 

"Don't give up, Draco," she reminded him, fighting back a laugh. "Don't give up."

Draco crouches down next to the grey tombstone already decorated with all sorts of flowers from friends and family and places his own set of white roses right next to her name. With hands that won't stop trembling, he pulls out a tiny box from his pocket.

"I was supposed to give this to you after the war," he says quietly, presses his palm to the snow under which he knows she's resting, looking as breathtaking as she always has with her eyes closed.

"I wish I could've given it to you when I had the chance, but.."

"Don't do this to me, love."

Draco couldn't think straight. He gathered her into his arms and cradled her the way he had done countless times before, except this time she wasn't smiling up at him with a familiar sparkle in her warm eyes—no, she was limp and cold and her eyes were open but unseeing. 

"No no you can't—you can't do this to me—" Draco was gasping for breath that wasn't there. Choking on his tears, he shook his head repeatedly, rocking back and forth on the ground, "Look at me, love, you promised you wouldn't leave—"

In the middle of a destroyed hallway, with the battle of Hogwarts in full fledge all around him, a boy in bloodied robes and an entire ocean caught between his lashes knelt on the ground, cradling the only person who had ever mattered to him in his arms as she did exactly what he was begging her not to do—

"You can't leave me like this, love. Don't leave me like this, please please—"

—and died.

Left him. Just like that.

In the middle of the empty cemetery, a boy in a black suit kneels next to a tombstone, hands shaking as they gingerly set down a small, golden ring on the grave marker. Pulling out his wand, he whispers a spell and enchants the beautiful golden band to stay there for as long as the world exists.

Draco closes his eyes, inhales through his nose, exhales through his mouth.

And then he leaves. 

Just like that.

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 6 Confliction - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] I really want to give a huge, huge thank you to @tebdundy on tumblr for editing and dealing with my constant check ups and stuff, you are so amazing for helping me. It means a whole lot. You can find more of me on instragram, wattpad, and AO3 (under the same username). Okay, onto the chapter!

WARNING: a lot of angst, rejection

Your ship was on fire. Every belonging, every single thing you had worked so hard for was gone. Your guns, clothes, even appliances you had never given a second thought, gone. And it hit you like a shot. The moment you took in that your ship was on fire, you shut down. Your mind began to wander. What did I do to deserve this? Why is this happening to me?

The next thing you could remember was Spike shaking your shoulders to snap you back to reality. You struggled to form a response. You tried to open your mouth, give some indication that you could feel and see him. In reality, the only thing you could really feel was a dull ache in your spine, each vertebrae mounting with an odd, uncomfortable pain.

The shock was setting in.

You blinked, eyes glassy as you watched firefighters put your ship out of her misery. There was no noise. You couldn't feel your fingertips, your face. You couldn't feel anything. Just that dull ache creeping up your spine.

Thoughts spiraled through your aching head, moving so quickly you could hardly keep up. It felt like you were at war with yourself, trying to keep yourself conscious and cognizant of the situation, while you sank deeper and deeper into your head.

This is just a small hiccup.

Just an obstacle that needed to be conquered, a hurdle you needed to jump over.

This is all your fault, you’ll never bounce back.

Everything happens for a reason, right?

Maybe if you hadn’t been so stupid.

You always ruin everything for yourself.

You might as well give up now.

There’s no coming back from this one.

You’re a disappointment.

You’ve failed.

It ate you up like a starving monster devouring a poor soul who crossed its path. Dark tendrils of shame, anger, and sadness weaved into your head, wrapping around your mind and tightening with every passing second. You were going to drown.

Push it down. Push it down. Grieve later. Think now. Grieve later. Think now.

You needed to figure out what you were going to do next. You needed to get out of your head. You desperately tried to claw your way out of this state. Taking a deep breath, you tried to make sense of the chaos around you.

You were sitting on the ground, a blanket draped over your shoulders. You felt the cold stone of the dock under your legs, felt the itchiness of the thick wool wrapped around you. You watched as Jet ran over to Spike, shouting over the sounds of panic that had flooded your head just moments before. Spike was staring at you, his face riddled with concern. You heard him call your name. You didn’t respond.

It was usually so hard to read him, to figure out what he was feeling. But now, it was so incredibly clear. You saw the emotions flashing in his eyes as he called for you again. Loss, guilt, despair, mania, heartbreak.

You felt Jet’s strong hand on your shoulder, shaking it gently.

"Hey kid, you okay?" He said, his brows furrowed.

You swallowed. Do not cry. Do not cry. Wait until you're alone. Push it down.

"I think...I think— a glass of water."

-

"How much do you have?"

"About 200,000 woolong."

"Well, that ain't much."

"Well, I wasn’t expecting to lose everything I own."

You sipped your coffee slowly as you, Spike and Jet discussed a solution to your giant, unavoidable problem. No matter how much you told them that you were okay and could take care of yourself, they insisted on helping you. Deep down, you appreciated it, because you definitely weren’t okay and wouldn’t be able to take care of yourself, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself.

You picked at the eggs on your plate, imagining sleeping in your own bed right now. Wearing your favorite shirt. Eating breakfast in your small kitchen. Watching the morning news in your room. Maybe have someone with you, showing him everything you owned like an excited child because you were so proud of how far you came from your first bounty to now. Things you’ll never be able to do again.

You felt silly and materialistic, mourning the loss of your belongings. But when you worked so hard for something you wanted for so long, building it up over the years, and losing it all in seconds? It's very hard to not mourn.

You had tried to pack light, to not become attached to material possessions. That was one of the first things that you were told by other bounty hunters. When you had first considered entering this god-forsaken profession, you sought out the help of any bounty hunter you came across, trying to glean any useful knowledge from those more experienced than you. You got too comfortable and started to ignore that piece of advice, and now you’re crying over some clothes and dishes.

But your keepsakes, your souvenirs. Ties to your troubled past. Memories of old friends, places, and happy times. Gone, burnt to a crisp.

"How much is a night stay here in town?" You spoke up, interrupting Spike and Jet’s bickering.

"You don't even want to know. The further you go into the city, the worse the rates are. I looked at a couple of places, and it does not look good." Jet replied, taking a sip from his mug.

"And staying on the streets isn't too good either," Spike muttered.

"Wasn't planning on it, but thanks for the advice." You snapped back.

The tension was thick in the air between you and Spike. Maybe it was because of your interrupted intimacy from the previous night, or the fact that neither of you had slept for the past 24 hours. But you couldn't understand why he was taking his frustration out on you. You hadn’t planned for your ship to burn to ash. You didn’t want to be a burden.

"I have a suggestion. Well, more of a proposal." Jet said.

You perked up. "And what's that?" Even before Jet could say anything, you already felt guilty about it.

"You can stay with us on the Bebop until you find your feet again."

You breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do what now?!" Spike hissed softly.

"But, "Jet held up his hand to Spike, who sighed loudly, annoyed. "I have a few conditions."

It kind of pissed you off how Spike was reacting to all of this. Actually, kind of was an understatement. It really pissed you off, almost offended you on how he was acting. Just a few hours ago, he was desperate to get into your pants, and now he was throwing a hissy fit at the thought of you living on the Bebop. Isn't this a good thing, you being able to spend more time together?

"Just contribute to the Bebop. Whenever you cash in a bounty, set some aside for fuel, food, all that good jazz. Maybe cook dinner sometimes, or clean the bathroom. Other than that, don’t worry about it." Jet said.

A cloud of suspicion settled across your thoughts.

"That's it?" You asked, “Are you sure?”

Jet chuckled. “There’re other rules, but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I have a feeling you know how to respect other people’s spaces and belongings. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

You glanced at Spike, who was leaning back, staring out the window. He met your gaze, eyes unreadable once again. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He felt like an entirely new person, one who just wanted you to piss off and leave him to his business. You tried to shrug off his sudden coldness, but it bothered you. It stung.

-

The walk back to the Bebop wasn't too bad, but trying to initiate a conversation with Spike was difficult. All he did was grunt in response, a few "oh yeah”s and “huh”s thrown in for good measure. You hoped it was because he was tired, and not that he was pissed off that you were going to be invading his space.

The guilt was heavy on your shoulders. You certainly weren’t a freeloader, but you couldn't help but feel like you had already overstayed your welcome. And you haven’t even stepped foot on the ship yet. You didn't want Spike to be distant from you. Even though you had just met him, you wanted him to be closer to you than anyone else. You wanted to reach out to him, hold onto him and never let him go. Instead, he was pushing you away.

You weren’t good with rejection. Rejection defined who you were today and had been a driving factor to almost everything in your life. You had managed to take ahold of those haunting feelings and build them into a hard shell to protect yourself, vowing to never show your vulnerability or true feelings. You had pushed the old version of you so deep down that it would never escape. You had been doing so well, but the last few days had shown you that the hard work you put into being a completely emotionless bitch was all for nothing.

Jet was going into an extensive explanation of the ship, where you could take a shower, where your room was. He explained that the Bebop was once a fishing ship from Ganymede, and how he had fixed it up to be a high-tech, fully functional ship of today (his words, not yours).

"She operates well when treated right. However, some of our crew members would say otherwise." Jet grumbled. "Speaking of, did Faye tell you-"

"I haven't seen Faye since two days ago. Her ship was still gone, the last I saw." Spike muttered, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "Besides, why do you care?"

Jet held up his hands. "It was just a question. Jeez." Spike muttered something in response.

You suddenly remembered the bounty on Faye’s head, but it didn’t really matter right now. That was all on the back burner for now, seeing as every plan you could think of required a ship that wasn’t the one Faye was living on. And you really didn't want to make enemies of your new crew this early on. All you cared about right now was taking a shower to wash all of last night's events off you and getting some shut-eye.

You wondered whether Jet was aware of your previous intentions of collecting the big bounty on Faye. You had asked him if Faye was joining the group for dinner last night, with no context. There was no answer, but that also could mean he took in what you said and was processing what you really intended to do if Faye did show up at the dinner. Remembering your first meeting with Spike, he told you clearly he doesn't care if she got captured or not. So you have two people who are on opposite ends of the discussion. One is in charge of the Bebop and which bounties to pursue, and the other one likes to smoke and philosophize.

The obvious correct choice was clear, but you decide to choose the latter.

"When you come in, don't be too surprised by some of our unique characters." Jet remarked. "You've already met us two, but there are a few more along the way."

"I like to think I'm also a unique character, so we should get along." You replied happily, a tint of exhaustion underlying in your words. Spike scoffed, walking over to open the small hatch.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You snapped, a full night's worth of frustration threatening to overflow in the form of obscenities and insults.

"Are you talking to me?" Spike said over his shoulder, punching in the security numbers on the small pad. The hatch to the side of the Bebop creaked open, landing on the stone pier with a hard thunk. "I’m tired. And when I’m tired, I don’t put my energy into pulling punches and being nice.Got it, (Y/N)?"

You bit down on your tongue. "Never mind. What were you saying, Jet?"

You could hear a quiet, "Yeah that's what I thought." echoing up into the Bebop. Rolling it off your shoulders, you turned your focus to Jet as you both walked into the ship.

Opening a round metal door, you looked up to see a dimming bulb illuminating the cylinder passage. The walls were yellowing, patched with dark, aging metal, and littered with hazard signs. Jet walked over to a ladder bolted on the wall and began to climb.

"I'll tell you, you’ll get a real workout just getting around this ship." Jet laughed, his voice bouncing off the walls.

"Are there a lot of these around the ship?" You said, following.

"Oh yeah, plenty. But if you stay in the living area, you don’t really need to worry about them. I'll show you around anyway, just in case we need you to get something. We wouldn’t want you to get lost." Jet smiled.

He hopped into the center gravity passage, holding out his hand to you. You grabbed it gratefully, not realizing how much of a drop it was to the floor of the tube until you looked back down.

"Oh damn." You exclaimed, looking down. "That's pretty far."

"It’s just 15 feet. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you." Jet chuckled, closing the metal door. "Alright, so this is the lower gravity passage. It leads to the living area, that includes bedrooms, kitchen and living room, and to the storage area."

Spike was nowhere to be seen in the passage. You assumed he was already in the living room, smoking before heading off to bed. Jet opened a sliding metal door marked “Storage”. You peered into the dark room.

"This is where we keep extra ammunition, supplies, and medical boxes.”

Jet pressed a button next to the storage door, one that opened to the living area. The walls were a gradient blue color, illuminated with warm lighting. The staircase was a dark, metallic gold leading to a dark blue platform. On the floor was a yellow couch, and across from it was a single matching seat. In between them sat a knee-level coffee table with a holoTV, a computer, and someone's breakfast. Jet walked in first, stepping down. "This is the living room.” He pointed to the set on top of the table. “You’re welcome to use the holoTV and the computer, everybody shares them.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure whose breakfast that is, but don’t touch it. People are pretty possessive of food on this ship.”

Right as you took a step in, you heard the light pattering of paws bouncing into the living room. From a staircase leading down, two small light brown ears popped up. Then two big brown eyes peered over, searching for the source of commotion in the room.

"You guys have a dog?!" You asked, practically jumping down the stairs. The small Welsh corgi was seemingly just as excited as you were, running and tripping up the stairs to meet you. You extended your hand, letting him sniff you.

Jet chuckled. "Cute little thing, isn't he? His name is Ein."

"Oh, he's adorable. Who’s a good boy?" You cooed, bending down to rub Ein's ears. He stretched his head out, his little stumpy tail going a hundred miles a minute.

"And usually tagging along with Ein is-" Jet was interrupted by the pounding footsteps coming from downstairs.

"They're back, they're back, they're back!" a scrawny red-headed kid rejoiced, waving their arms about. "Ed was worried, but now Jet’s back, and Ed is okay again!"

The kid's smile stretched from ear to ear, clearly more than ecstatic to see Jet back home. They grabbed the plate from on top of the table and plopped down next to a box with a computer on top. They gobbled up what was left of their food, before bending their head back to get a look at you. "Who are you?"

"This is (Y/N), they're going to be staying on the Bebop for a little bit." Jet replied, walking over to the table. He turned back to you. "Ed is a computer genius and a damn good hacker. You ever need someone to work out some malicious malware, Ed’s your girl."

“Hi, it's nice to meet you." You said, giving Ed a small smile and a wave. She scampered over to you on all fours with her behind high in the air, chattering to herself.

“Stranger, changer, danger! Hihi...”

You laughed nervously, glancing back at Jet, who was standing with his arms crossed, looking amused. The girl stopped at your feet. “Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth,” she said matter of factly. Ed grabbed your hand and sniffed. You had met some oddballs in your time, but this one took the cake. She made a face and jumped back, her hands covering her nose and mouth. "Ed thinks you stink!"

You sucked in air between your teeth. Did you really smell that bad, or was it another talent of this child prodigy? That’s so embarrassing. "Is it that noticeable?"

Jet half-smiled. "Doesn't bother me none. Thought I wouldn’t mention it till you could do somethin about it."

He was just going to let you find out later? No wonder Spike didn't want to be anywhere near you. It wasn’t even your first day of being on the Bebop, and you were not making a great first impression.

"Let me show you the kitchen." Jet motioned for you to follow up a small set of stairs through a large circular door frame leading down a small hallway. You turned into the kitchen, completed with a fridge, stove, oven, and a small countertop. The kitchen was dark, the only light in the room was the dimming orange ashes of Spike's cigarette falling on the floor. He was leaning against the countertop, staring down at his cig.

"There you are, Spike." Jet flipped the lights on, revealing a slightly disorderly kitchen. Spike winced, covering his eyes.

"Jesus, Jet give me a warning next time," Spike mumbled, his voice deep and raspy. Your annoyance and anger at him suddenly disappeared. That voice. You wanted to hear that voice again. You wanted to put your hand on his chest and feel the vibrations of that voice. Every time you tried to find some way to be mad at him again, he just had to stand there, looking cool and intoxicatingly seductive. You craved him like an alcoholic craved whiskey.

"Are you finished with the grand tour?" Spike asked, his heavy-lidded eyes looking away from you and Jet.

"Not yet, but I was hoping you could finish it."

"I’m not in the mood for hospitality right now. I'm going to bed." Spike said, making his way to the door.

"Just show her on the way there. And be nice, she's our guest." Jet warned, sorting the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.

"Yeah, show me some respect." You teased. But Spike clearly was not in the mood. Instead, he turned away from you, rolling his eyes, and walked out of the kitchen

Jet patted you on the back. "Give him a minute, he'll come around."

"Thank you for everything, Jet. It means a lot." You smiled.

"Don't sweat it, kid. Go ahead and get some rest. If anything comes up, I'll send the cavalry after you." He said, gesturing to the living room.

You took a deep breath before heading out of the kitchen. Ed was sitting motionless in a trance-like state, her eyes engulfed with giant goggles. Ein lay peacefully on the couch, watching as you followed Spike down the steps into the living room.

This was the first time you and Spike had been alone since last night. Just hours ago, you were definitely not afraid to touch him. Now, you didn't even want to take a step near him.

"Are you coming or what?" Spike called out impatiently, already halfway downstairs to the lower part of the living area. "I don't have all day."

"I'm here." You raced over, gliding your hand down the rail. Spike continued his way down, turning around a corner. The walk down the hallway was quiet, the silence uncomfortable. Neither of you wanted to do small talk. Spike probably didn’t want to talk at all, but you had to know. You had to ask him.

"Spike?” you asked quietly. You wrung your fingers around each other anxiously. Spike stayed silent, his quick pace faltering before coming to a stop in front of a door.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” You finally asked. Spike seemed to tense up, his jaw clenching. Deciding to press on further, you continued.

“I umm,” you mumbled, “I may have been drunk and you probably were too, but why are you so cold to me now when we were literally about f-“

“This is the bathroom. It has a tub and a shower.” Spike interrupted. Your heart dropped to your stomach. So much for answers. “There should be some clean towels. You can wash your clothes upstairs, Jet can show you where the washer is. Your room’s gonna be the first door you see when you reach the top of the stairs. It’ll be all yours till you leave.”

Spike puffed out a cloud of smoke before making his way slowly down the hallway. You looked at him in disbelief. He definitely remembers. And he’s rejecting it. You and him. Cutting it off before it starts, pushing you away.

You stepped into the bathroom, letting the door shut behind you before tears of anger and resentment started to fall down your face. How can you feel so much emotion for someone who shows none? You lost your home and belongings. You didn’t want to lose anything else.

-

After a long hot shower, you stood in front of the mirror, combing your fingers through your hair. You were going to have to get essentials eventually, a comb and a toothbrush would be nice. But that would have to wait. You rubbed circles on your temple, your impending exhaustion headache approaching fast.

After drying yourself off, you slipped your old clothes back on. It felt awful putting dirty clothes on your clean body, but you were not about to walk around the ship in a towel. You had already dug yourself a deep enough hole with Spike, you didn’t want to traumatize Jet, the kid, or the dog.

As you wrapped your hair in a towel, you heard shouting from outside. You combed through who it could be. Spike and Jet. Or Jet and Ed. Or Spike and Ein, or Ein and Ed. There were quite a few combinations.

“First fight on the Bebop.” You muttered to yourself. “So excited.”

This was so ridiculous, you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. All you had to do was walk past and not get involved. Unless it was about you, then you would at least try to defend yourself. You opened the door, listening intently.

“What the fuck-“ more shouting. “And you bastards decide to tell me now?!” A shrill female voice was yelling. A table got knocked over. You could hear stomping and more shouting. “Well, where the hell are they?!”

Whoop, time to hide.

You shut the door and the latch clicked with a loud cathunk. You hoped they hadn’t heard it. You were down a big hallway, there was no way that they could’ve heard it. You had a pretty good idea of who the screaming was coming from, and you were not ready to meet her right now.

The sounds of stomping grew louder, getting closer to the bathroom door. Your fight-or-flight mode started to set in. With how pissed she sounded, stomping and roaring, this may as well be a life-or-death situation.

You rolled your neck, stretching your arms out. If you needed to defend yourself, you were going to have to do it bare-knuckled. No guns, knives, bars of soap, nothing. You flexed your hands, cracking your knuckles. You planted yourself in front of the door. The footsteps outside stopped. This was it! You were ready for anything.

Bam!

The door slid open. Faye Valentine stood on the other side, hands on her hips. She was panting from her ranting and raving in the other room. She smiled, her eyes a little too wide. You couldn’t tell if she was happy, crazy, or surprised.

“Hi there, you must be our newest crew member! My name is Faye, it’s so nice to meet you, girly!” She beamed, her eyes manic.

Not the response you were expecting. “It’s nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” You held out your hand. She took it, her soft palms gripping your hand a little bit too tight. She shook your hand. She kept shaking. And shaking. You pulled back, trying your best to put on a friendly face.

“Sorry if I’m hogging the bathroom, there was an accident last night and I was so dirty, I just had to have a shower.” You smiled, stepping to the side.

“Oh no! You’re totally fine. I was just looking for the toilet, I guess I got lost.” She replied, waving her hand.

“The toilet’s just across the hall from your room, how long have you been here-“ Jet was cut off by Faye’s elbow jabbing him in the ribs. Jet grabbed his side in pain, giving you a half-smile.

“Well, I’d love to chat, but I’m really tired. I’m going to go get some sleep.” You smiled apologetically and gestured to the stairs.

Jet and Faye’s voices mingled with each other, overlapping into a confusing symphony of hospitality and kindness.

“Yeah, no worries!”

“Call us if you need anything!”

“We’ll be right here!”

Smiling, you gave a small wave, turned around, and basically sprinted down the hallway to the living room. You heard Faye hiss, “You didn’t tell me she was a girl, dumbass.”

“I was going to before you blew up at me. If you had let me finish, I would’ve. Why are you so pissed off about another crew member, anyway?”

“I’m tired of all the men on this ship, I didn’t want another one. And I thought they were going to take my room...”

Their bickering trailed off as you climbed up the two sets of stairs to your new room. Ed was still on the floor with her goggles on, humming to herself, seemingly oblivious to the fight that had just happened. Ein cautiously sniffed the overturned table, before settling onto the floor next to Ed, resting his head on her lap. You would’ve said goodnight, but they seemed to be in their own little world and you were happy to let them stay like that.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you saw two doors directly across from each other, one on each side of the landing. Spike had said it was “the first door you’d see”, but that wasn’t particularly helpful in this situation. Hoping you were correct, you quietly walked over to the door to your left, pressing the button to open it.

Your breath hitched as the door opened to see Spike fast asleep in his bed. He snored lightly, sleeping so deeply he didn’t hear the hiss and clink of the door opening. His arms were behind his head and the steady rise and fall of his bare chest was hypnotic. Even asleep he was really, really attractive. You fumbled over yourself trying to shut the door. It finally latched, and you let out a breath.

Sighing, you turned towards the door behind you. This one had to be it. You opened it to see a small, sparse room. Closing the door behind you, you flipped on the light. Pushed up against the far wall was a simple bed, and to your right was a small desk built into the wall with an old armchair next to it. There was a closet in the far corner, but the door was locked and some large boxes were stacked in front of it. They must not get many guests, it seemed like this room was mainly used for storage.

Feeling the ache of exhaustion overtaking your body, you flopped onto the bed. It was surprisingly soft, with a pillow and tan comforter neatly folded on top. You didn’t know how to thank Jet for being so kind and accommodating. Next time you cashed in a big bounty, you were going to set aside some woolongs to buy him a thank you gift.

On top of the pillow, you noticed a pair of black shorts and a yellow button-up. Pinned to the shirt was a note, clearly written in a hurry.

Some clean clothes. You smell like shit.

-S

You laughed. He’s straight-talking, that’s for sure. You slipped on the shorts and buttoned the shirt halfway up. Spreading out the comforter, you crawled underneath. You were already half-asleep, and thinking about how breathtakingly attractive Spike looked asleep relaxed you even more. Your mental snapshot of your accidental encounter was glued to your eyelids. It was never going to happen again, but you got to have one taste of beauty while here.

You gently wrapped your arms around your pillow, thoughts of Spike disappearing into clouds of empty dreams. It was so much better to fall asleep to thinking of someone, rather than no one at all.

And even though it was going to hurt, you would do it again and again.

-

[A/N] all I got to say is fasten your seatbelts for the next chapter, slut puppies.

[queenxxxsupreme]

Hay this might be a rough request, but I am a complete mess rn so this is definitely about me haha. But could you maybe do something for Regis with a Reader who's falling for him, but has struggle to let people inside her life as she's been abused mentally as long as she can thinks and as she's having a breakdown Regis finds her and she's about to confess what she feels for the higher vampire but is scares to be hurt? - 🦊

If you don't want to write this just let me know. ❤️

A/N: hi babe I won’t bombard too much but if you ever need anything my box is open or you can DM me 

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, mentions of suggested partner abuse but nothing descriptive

***

You were sitting alone at a table in a large room with Kaer Morhen that you declared to be the dining room. You were preparing dinner, making enough for all of the boys should they return. Vesemir was off tinkering with some ladder he’d been talking about all week. Apparently it needed to be repaired. 

You hissed as the blade of your knife slipped and caught the inside of your thumb. The knife was abandoned at the table as blood started to steadily seep from the wound. You used your skirt - dirty at the hem from tending to the goats earlier in the day - to stop the bleeding. 

“Damn bastard.” You cursed, glaring down at the knife. 

“What did I do already?” Lambert teased as he crossed the room. You didn’t realize he had even walked in until he spoke. You jumped and turned your head to him, smiling.

“Hi, Lambert! How was the journey?”

“Shitty and long, as usual.” He took a seat at the table with you. “Anybody here with you?”

“Vesemir arrived late last week.” You nodded. “Geralt, Ciri, and Jaskier are here with Regis and Dettlaff. Yennefer keeps popping in and out whenever she wants. Have you heard from Eskel?”

“A while ago.” He picked up a strawberry from a bowl on the table. “Ran into him in Aedd Gynvael about three weeks back. Said he had an archgriffin contract to finish up and then he was gonna head here. Figured he’d be here already.”

You nodded, letting your skirt fall back into place. The bleeding had stopped but it burned. 

You moved over to the pot of soup hanging over the fire. It was bubbling nicely.

“Is this winter gonna be the winter where you tell Regis?”

You turned your head to look at Lambert. He moved towards you, wanting to inspect what you were cooking. He was always very cautious about eating anything someone else made for him. You remembered him telling you a story of one of the few times he let Geralt cook. Apparently everyone in the keep got food poisoning. 

“Tell…. Tell Regis what?” You asked quietly, brows furrowing together. 

“That you fancy him.” Lambert rolled his eyes at the word. It was very, very rare for him to like someone as quickly as he took a liking to you. You’d heard Eskel say something to Geralt about how Lambert knew what it was like to grow up in an unsafe home, that you both shared similar upbringings prior to his arrival at Kaer Morhen. You never asked the young wolf about it, never wanting to pick at old wounds.

“Don’t play stupid, Y/N.” 

You flinched at the name but Lambert didn’t notice. He had moved away towards the table where you had been cutting up potatoes. You knew he meant nothing by it, but you couldn’t help your stomach twisting up into knots.

“You know we all can see how you swoon every time he’s in the same room as you.”

“Can you keep it down a little, Lambert?” You asked him, messing with your skirt as you went to the table. “I-I don’t want him knowing.”

“Why not?” Lambert looked up at you. “You want me to help you with the potatoes? You’ll lose a finger at the rate you’re going.” He nodded to your hand. You had more than a couple knicks on your hands and fingers. You weren’t the best at using a knife, but you tried your best. 

“Please.” You nodded softly. Your eyes followed Lambert as he went over to the wash basin to clean his hands. “I…. just don’t think it’d be wise of me to do that. To…. To put myself in that position.”

“I don’t blame you.” Lambert sighed, drying his hands off on a towel. “Opening up to people sucks ass.”

You smiled a little. 

“How’s Aiden doing, by the way?” You tilted your head to the side a little as you sat down across from the wolf. “Is he coming this winter?”

“Said he might.” Lambert muttered. “Probably won’t show up until the middle of a snow storm or something stupid.”

You admired the witcher for loving someone, and you were a little jealous. 

You chewed on your bottom lip, looking down at the three little cuts on your fingers.

“What are you thinking about?” Lambert asked, keeping his voice low. 

“Nothing.” You answered a little too quickly. 

“I can see the steam coming out of your ears, kid. This is one of those rare times I ask you what you’ve got going on inside that head of yours. The polite thing would be for you to take advantage of that.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his yellow gaze.

“How…. How do you do it, Lambert?” You brushed a few pieces of hair behind your ears. “How do you let yourself get like that? Become vulnerable for Aiden? I-I mean, I can’t even comfortably open up to Geralt or Eskel and I’ve known them for the better half of a decade. Sometimes…. Sometimes it’s hard opening up to you even and we’ve known each other how long?”

“Feels like a lifetime.” He sighed, nodding his head. Lambert had met you years ago when a chort had invaded your village. “Uh, it’s hard, kid. Really hard. But you just…. If you really like someone, you’ve gotta let it happen.”

You looked down at the table, your fingers brushing over markings in the wood. 

“Yeah, I get it. But you…. You’re a witcher.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. “If…. If Aiden were to get…. If he were to be, um, harmful to you…. You could stop him.”

Lambert stopped cutting the potatoes and looked across the table at you as realization hit him. 

“Regis is stronger than you. That’s what you’re afraid of.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip.

“I know no amount of me telling you this will help, but Regis isn’t that kind of guy.” Lambert shook his head. “He’d never….” The wolf trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. “And you know Geralt wouldn’t associate with someone like that.” 

You nodded your head and opened your mouth to speak when Ciri, Dettlaff, Regis, and Geralt walked in. Your eyes darted to Lambert, who very briefly met your gaze before looking over at the small group. You moved away from the table as everyone started to sit down. You went to the fire to check on the soup. 

“I was just telling Y/N here that I heard from Eskel a few weeks ago. He should be here any day now.”

“Good.” Geralt sighed, taking a seat at the table. 

“Y/N? Do you need help with anything, dear?” Regis asked. 

You looked over your shoulder to him, your voice caught in your throat as your heart started to beat a little faster. 

“Erm, I-I think we’ve- Lambert and I have everything under control.” You looked over to Lambert, who didn’t look at you. You knew he’d never tell anyone about your feelings towards the Higher Vampire, but you couldn’t help feeling that maybe he would. Your trust had been violated by those you thought the world of before. 

***

Later on that evening after everyone ate their fill of soup and helped clean the kitchen, you retreated to the library. The entire night it felt like you were tense and on edge. You weren’t too sure what it was, but it probably had something to do with the fact that Regis had sat beside you the whole evening and tried multiple times to engage in conversation with you. You did your best to keep the conversations going, but it wasn’t easy. That voice in the back of your head kept telling you that you needed to shut up before he realized that you were into him. 

You got a book and sat down in your favorite chair. It was large and comfy and rested close to the fireplace so you could stay warm. 

You tried to focus on the book, to immerse yourself in the story, but it just wasn’t working. Your mind was going a million miles a second and you couldn’t gain control of your thoughts. Your lungs couldn’t pull in enough oxygen. You felt dizzy and nauseous at the same time. 

The book was placed down on the table next to you and you leaned forward, your elbows on your knees and your hands over your face. 

You tried counting to make the invasive feelings go away, but that didn’t work. You tried to stop thinking about everything that could go wrong if you were to tell Regis of how you felt, but that didn’t work either. Warm hands touched the back of your hands, making you flinch. You pulled your hands away from your face to see Regis kneeling before you. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, sitting back in your seat to put space between you two. Your hands found the arms of the chair, gripping them tightly. 

“Are you okay, dear?” Regis asked you, brows furrowed together in concern. 

You sniffled pitifully and wiped your cheeks with your sleeves. 

“I-I’m-I’m fine, Regis.”

“What’s gotten you so upset?” He tilted his head to the side a little. 

You shook your head, unable to answer him. 

He stood to his feet, messing with a buckle to his jacket. 

“I’ll leave, if you’d like some space.”

“No!” You shouted, even though you didn’t mean to. You turned your head away from him, closing your eyes tightly. You needed to tell him. You needed to get it out. Maybe that was why you felt like you were going to explode, because you needed to tell him how you felt. “Please…. Please stay.”

He retrieved a chair from one of the tables and pulled it over to you. Regis kept his distance though, not wanting to invade your space. 

You opened your eyes but you couldn’t turn your head to look at him. There was nothing but silence as he waited patiently for you to speak. 

“I’m-I’m sorry you.... That I raised my voice at you.” You whispered, your voice weak and broken. 

“There’s no need to apologize, my dear.” He assured you. The way he spoke to you so gently, so softly, nearly made your heart melt.

You brought your eyes down to your hands, picking at your fingers. You took a deep breath, before finding your voice again. 

“I-I want to…. To tell you how I feel. But I can’t.”

“Why not?” Regis didn’t sound upset with you. He didn’t sound impatient. He was calm and quiet. 

Your lips pressed together in a tight line and you shook your head. You turned your head to look across the room at one of the windows. The moon was shining in, casting a rectangle of light onto the old stone floor. 

“I can’t let myself…. I can’t be like that with someone. Not after what’s happened.” 

If Regis didn’t have such good hearing, he wouldn’t have been able to hear what you were saying. 

His heart broke hearing your voice, hearing how upset you were and how hard it was for you to get this out. 

“I’ve had too-too many people in my life…. that have hurt me.” You shifted around in your seat. 

Silence fell between you both. You couldn’t find the right words to add on to what you were saying, to get him to understand. 

“You don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with doing, my dear.” Regis’s voice was smooth like honey as he spoke to you. “I won’t pretend to know what you’ve been through, because I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through. But I need you to know that I’d never put my hands on you, Y/N. The thought of it….. It makes me sick.”

“It’s not just that, Regis.” You brought your eyes to meet his. “I-I was with a man for three years. He never hit me, but sometimes I think hitting me would’ve done less damage than his words.”

This time, Regis couldn’t hold your gaze. He couldn’t bear the look in your eyes as you tried desperately to fight back the tears. You were fearful, terrified even. He wasn’t sure if it was because of him, or something else entirely, but he couldn’t help feeling as if he was partially to cause. 

You looked down at your hands. 

“I-I care about you, Regis. A lot. And I can’t-I can’t stop it, as badly as I want to.”

“I care about you as well, Y/N.” Regis fought the urge to put his hand on your shoulder or on the back of your hand. Now wasn’t the time for that. “But we don’t have to act on these feelings, not if you aren’t comfortable with it.”

“It isn’t fair to you.”

Regis held his hand out for you, praying that he wasn’t overstepping. You looked down at his hand, taking note of how wide his palm was and how long a slender his fingers were. Your hand hesitantly found his, your fingertips brushing along his palm and up to his wrist. 

“My dear, it isn’t fair that you’ve been with someone who didn’t treat you like the queen you are.” His grip tightened on your hand gently. “I am willing to wait as long as needed for you. If there’s never a time you are comfortable with exploring more within our relationship, then that is okay too. I just want to be here for you.” 

You nodded your head, smiling a little. Your heart raced in your chest, but this was a good racing. You didn’t feel sick. 

“You’re so sweet, Regis. I-I want to hug you.” 

He nodded and stood up. You did too, taking quick note of how your head barely reached his shoulders as his long arms wrapped around you tightly. You buried your nose into his chest, closing your eyes. 

“Thank you, Regis.” Your words were muffled against him. “I know I’m not the easiest to be around sometimes.”

“Oh nonsense, my dear. You are an absolute treasure.” Regis murmured against your hair. 

“Can you…. maybe…. read to me? Like you did last winter?” You kept your face in his chest, afraid to face him in case he said no.

“I’d like nothing more than to read to you, my dear.”

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox @wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an–actual–human–disaster @rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles @awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @thefirelordm @monkeymo @krenee1drful @nympha-door-a @unadulteratedtreecrusade @Aquarius-pisces-rose @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @sometimesiwrite

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[firstumcschenectady]

“Interconnected” based on James 1:17-27

Welcome to the book of James. It is one of my favorites, despite the fact that it takes away one of my best preaching tools. That is, I usually spend a lot of time explaining context and making sense of a scripture in the time and place it was written. But James is almost a form of wisdom literature. It is universal. So, we're able to spend our time on the ideas in the book directly.

James is written to the followers of Jesus in the diaspora – that is, those who lived outside of the Holy Land. The ones who had been DISPERSED from the land of their ancestors in faith. This feels relevant right now too. I don't know any church members at FUMC Schenectady who would claim modern Palestine or Israel as their native land, but I think that all of us are displaced from the “land” we once knew, and have not yet settled into the “land” we'll live in eventually. The Pandemic has displaced us all (although not all the same amount.)

In this opening chapter of the book of James, we are urged to LIVE our faith. James wants faith in ACTION. He urges people not to just listen to preachers ;) but to LIVE their faith, and he gets rather specific about it. James believes that people who are followers of Jesus should be acting out different values than the world's.

The crux of the advice from today's passage is “let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God's righteousness.” For James, this is integral in what it means to be “religious” - right up there with caring about God's beloveds who the world doesn't value (“widows and orphans.”)

As far as I can figure it out, the work of Christians is to build the kindom of God. The kindom, sometimes called the beloved community, is God's vision for the world. We will know it is here when the power of love overcomes the love of power; when the abundant resources of the world are used for the good of all people; when kin-ship connections cross all boundaries; when the poorest and most vulnerable people have enough to survive and thrive; when no one has to teach anyone about God because God is known by all. The kindom is God's long term plan for us, and our work to get there happens in two broad ways: first, by creating Christian communities where we practice kin-dom values and treat each other like we're already there and second by working with God to share love, to seek mercy, and advocate for justice so that the world is healed.

One of the parts of kindom building that can be hard sometimes is that it requires seeing clearly what the world is like now. We have to do this so we can hold it in tension with how God would have the world be in the kindom, but often the aching pain of the world as it is can be hard to let ourselves see clearly. For instance, we can't work towards a world without rape and violence unless we admit that we live in a world with rape and violence, and that there are barriers to changing it. So, we seek to see clearly. We seek to see how things are AND how God wants them to be.

Now, I don't want to shock you or anything, but the United States is a highly individualistic society. (The kindom is not.) We in the US have proven to the world how terribly individualism works – time and time again. Including in our responses to the COVID-19 Pandemic.

You might think that if you were looking at this pandemic with clear eyes that you would see that none of us can be well unless all of us are well- that we are collectively only as healthy as the least healthy among us – that every act of protection and prevention has enormous ripple effects. However, if we had learned this lesson, we'd be spending as much as possible to make it feasible to vaccinate every willing person in the world as soon as possible. We'd even do this before triple vaccinating our own population, because slowing down the spread of the virus is the most important way to keep everyone safe, healthy, and alive. The well being of all and the well being of the USA actually align! Yet, we miss the mark.

The book of James has an interesting perspective on the relationship that Christians have to the world. In the face of the injustices of the Roman Empire, the wealth inequality, the slavery, the power imbalances, the death rates of the poor, James urges the faithful … not to get angry.

I find that my first instinct is to argue with this a little bit. “Are you sure?” “What about when...?” Yet, even as I argue, I am convicted by this passage.

Society is rife with anger. Anger is pulling us apart at the seams. Some of the anger, I'd argue, is “righteous.” It is a response to injustice that needs to be seen, acknowledged, named, and addressed. We'll talk about that in a moment.

Most of the anger is misplaced. The anger is being used to create groups of “us” that stand against “them,” and those distinctions dismiss that everyone in both groups are beloveds of God. The anger is being used to provoke fear, sell products, pass unjust laws, and elect politicians. The anger is being USED.

And James points out directly that the people who want others to get angry are selling them on the idea that if they get angry enough, they will provoke God to action. James says it won't work though. God will act when God will act, and furthermore, prayer is a better way to go about it. Anger serves the people promoting it, not God.

But what about righteous anger? As I've been saying recently, anger is a “secondary” emotion. That is, it exists like a red flag to mark a place where something that is held precious is being violated. It lets us know when our values are attacked, and underneath that is another emotion. Most often anger is there to act as the bodyguard to sadness or the diversion to fear.

Sadness and fear are sufficient. They can guide us to good action, they can show us the ways of compassion, they can help us grow together. They are wise enough, that once we find them, we can let go of the anger that guided us to them.

Which means that the way to be “slow to anger” is often to identify anger, and then sit with it and find out what is underneath it. It means that we sometimes need to listen – to ourselves and our tender emotions. God is there, with us when we listen, with us when we feel, with us when we discover what is under our anger. This is, even, a form of God's healing, God's salve in our lives.

Of course, “be slow to anger” is the third piece of advice we're given in today's passage. The first two are to be quick to listen and slow to speak. It seems clear that James' advice is aimed at faith COMMUNITIES, because his advice is aimed at deepening and maintaining good relationships among the followers of Jesus.

For the past several years, I have participated in “listening circles.” These intentional spaces have careful guidelines that are aimed at making sure there is holy and sacred space for listening – and speaking. At times there have been 20 or 30 people in these circles, and you might think that there would be a lot more speaking than listening. But, there isn't. Often there are prolonged silences between speakers, and they feel like time to absorb the wisdom one beloved of God has offered. When the obligation to have a response is taken away, along with the tendency toward chit-chat, there is spaciousness for silence and listening.

When I hear James say, “be quick to listen, slow to speak” I think of how healing those circles have been in my life. I love being freed from having to have a response to something someone says, and instead just listen to them and receive their wisdom. And, when I do speak into such a space, I am astounded at the power that comes with being heard with love.

As much as I have loved these experiences though, it isn't clear to me how to live “be quick to listen, slow to speak” ALL the time. Really listening to another of God's beloveds takes energy and attention, and … let's be honest dear ones, those are finite resources!!! We will drain ourselves if we try to listen WELL all the time. (I've tried.)

That said, there is a being who is capable of listening with complete attention, and full energy, with love and compassion, with care and support – all day, every day, to all of us. God, the creator, sustainer, redeemer has gifted us with life, and God is with us breathing new life into us day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, and even second by second. When we seek God in prayer and meditation, we find that God is close at hand, ready and able to offer us healing. When all we have to offer are sighs too deep for words, God knows what we mean. When we are full of words, God listens until we have exhausted them. When we are able to be with the Divine in holy silence, God meets us there. And, of course, when what we offer God is our listening, …

well, that's when things really start to happen ;)

James encourages us to an active faith – not just to worship God once a week, but to live out faith in every day. He reminds us that the very people the world dismisses (the “widows and orphans”) are the ones that followers of Christ take care of. James doesn't hate the world – though he isn't impressed with it either - but he doesn't think being angry with it is going to change it. James encourages the people of faith to act differently. Take care of the struggling and vulnerable, listen deeply, speak with intention, slow down anger and learn its lessons instead of acting it out. Don't replicate the brokenness of the world – change it.

So, dear ones of God, I invite you to God's restoration, God's healing of the world, God's work of the Kindom: be quick to listen; be slow to speak; be slow to anger. With such “simple” acts as these, we can heal the world. May God help us. Amen

Rev. Sara E. Baron 

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady 

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 

Pronouns: she/her/hers 

http://fumcschenectady.org/ 

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

September 5, 2021

[hereformcdonaldshonestly]

Hi, may I have a romantic mha matchup, please? dear lord i hope i haven't sent u this yet lol

Fleur | bisexual | girl | INTP

Appearance: I'm 164cm(~5'4) tall, slim&athletic, and I usually give off the 'cute good girl' vibe, so ppl are shocked when they hear me cursing a lot lol. Long brown hair with bangs, my deer eyes have the same color - I wear eyeglasses. My clothing style is very girly, mostly wearing skirts and dresses(sometimes elegant, sometimes rather cute outfits). There's a tiny, barely visible scar above my right eyebrow, I've opened our car's door on my head lmao.

Personality: I have a confusingly dual, hard-to-like personality. First impression is either a stoic resting bitch face bitch or the awkward, cute and polite girl.

I'm faking myself and good at keeping my emotions under control, I'm really adaptable(sometimes full-stoic, other times talkative). I HATE showing weaknesses, I'm hiding them from even people I love, I simply can't stand emotional vulnerability. Making me talk about my issues, problems? Nearly impossible.

My way of thinking is quite realistic and highly critical, I have opinions about everything, I get passionate while sharing them, deep conversations are keeping me alive. Sometimes I'm event told that I'm wise? Kind of.

I'm the CLUMSIEST person, and kinda awkward too, cringe situations always find me. Quite easily get jumped/pranked. My humour is colorful: TEASING, dark, morbid, absurd, trollish. Sometimes I can come off phlegmatic, rude.

I'm generally a kind, polite, caring and patient person tho. I take loyalty quite seriously, but I don't get attached easily. I have a kind of unapproachable, 'emotions ew' vibes, but I have a softie side who adores cuddling and giving love, affection to people - it's kind of a selfish coping mechanism for me at the same time, bc the feeling being needed is incredibly comforting for me. Also, I can be just a dumb idiot and loosen up with my little gang if I'm in the mood. Once my close friend told me that I'm an unpredictable person. I need a lot of alone time&space.

I'm also vain, snobbish, pro procastrinator, lazy and selfish just to mention some negative traits. I have massive self-hatred spirals, thinking I am a burden, unworthy for love on my bad days. Slight imposter syndrome I guess.

My love language is words of affirmation&quality time, and when I have to express it, I'm best with acts of service. I'm not so romantic, valentines day and similar stuff just gonna make me roll my eyes.

Hobbies/Likes: classical literature, theatre, politics, hiking, sightseeing, travelling,  mysteries, reading about disappearances(crimes, like Sodder siblings, Tara Calico etc.), trying out new things, yoga, running, horse riding, table tennis, listening to music, cats, thunderstorms, rainy days, cider, tequila, going out and drinking with friends, smoking sometimes, family time, psychology, sexual psychology, reading trash/funny FB comments, massaging others, deep converstaions, surrealism, anything indie

For you I chose:

Momo Yaoyorozu!

Reason

I feel like she would help balance you out, at first I thought about Katsuki Bakugou but then I decided that probably wouldn't work out the best. She would balance it out, trying to get you to talk about anything that's bothering you, but she isn't forcing you!

Why They Love You

Momo loves your soft side, she loves that you can feel comfortable around her. She also loves how wise you are! She feels like she can ask you anything and you'll be there to answer. Momo always respects your space and always is aware of what is going on, just so she doesn't make you stressed on accident.

Date Headcanons

As a date idea, Momo suggested a murder mystery tour! Where basically you walk downtown with a group and a tour guide, picking up clues and trying to solve the mystery! Turns out it was like one big walking version of Clue!

You guys went out for date night! You both agreed that you would go without a plan and see where it takes you, after an hour of walking, driving, and just talking, and that's you see the glowing sign for poem reading! You guys went in and sat down with some drinks, watching people read poems, sing, and talk about different topics. You guys had a great time together!

General Headcanons

Momo always asks about what you're reading that week. She always wants to learn more about the literature you like so she can read it as well! She knows how much you love classical literature so she starts suggesting different writers and even tried to buy you different books that she thought you would like!

Whenever it comes to a romantic holiday, she knows how you aren't a huge fan of them. She'll maybe surprise you with flowers or dinner, but she'll still treat it as a normal day. She surprisingly is the same way, not really understanding why it was a big deal. Unless you want to go and do something for it, she is completely okay with staying home and watching documentaries!

Songs That Remind Me of You Both

Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier

Yellow by Coldplay

I hope you have a great day!

[saktetsu]

'LUST' Oikawa Tōru x Reader

Nekomimi, Metamorphoses, Adopted Sibling, !ncest, Mentions of Rape, Yandere Themes, Drugged

Today was the day that Oikawa Tōru comes back to Japan. He won't be staying for long, but at least [F/N] will be able to see her Older Brother once again.

"You look excited to see Tōru again" Her Mother exclaimed, chuckling softly.

"Well of course I am! I get to see Tōru nii again.." [F/N] had a smiled plastered on her face, as she waited for the Front Door to open.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Oikawa finally emerged from the door. He looked more mature now than he was back then. Without Hesitation, [F/N] jumped off the couch and ran straight into his open arms. It caused the setter to laugh from her sudden outburst of affection.

"Woah there [F/N]-Chan, did you miss me that much?" He teased, pinching her cheek slightly. Though she didn't care at all, all she wanted was to hug her dearest Brother that she missed so much.

"Alright, alright. [F/N] enough, let your Brother rest for a bit. I bet he's tired from the Flight" Their Mother chimed in with her hands on either side of her hips.

She pouted and eventually let go of Tōru with a soft 'hmph..' "Don't worry [F/N]~Chan! We'll be able to catch up after I settle in, mkay?" Tōru suggested with a head tilt, causing the younger girl to brighten up.

It may have been rude of him to stare at how her Booty Shorts would raise a little too high. Or how her shirt would squeeze tightly around her upper body. It's like she's tempting him to ruin her, to claim her. Even the thought of finally making his precious Little Sister his, had his tail straighten up from behind him.

Had she always looked this tempting? Had her ass always looked so plump and juicy? Whatever the case, he still couldn't fight back the urge to somewhat claim her as his own.

A few days passed by with Oikawa continuously bothering and hanging out with [F/N]. His personality didn't change much, but she could tell that he was a lot more serious.

Currently, she was in Class. Sitting along side her Best Friend Rinsuke and Sosuke. It was normal for them to Hang out before School ended. "Yo [F/N], I heard your Brother Finally came back from Argentina. How's that going for you?"

"Honestly, it's been great! I was able to catch up with him during the span of like- 4 days"

"4 days and you've already talked about everything? Sheesh, I'm not even surprised" Sosuke butted in, slurping his Milk quietly.

"Ya can't blame her for that though. They're pretty inseparable at this point." His twin added with a sly smirk spreading across his face. "Yer sure ya ain't got anything yer hiding from us Cupcake?"

"What.. Do you mean?" [F/N] asked with a curious tone.

"Ya know how he's one of those Nekomimi people?" She nodded. "Well for starters, ain't those kitties sniff shit that they own or somethin' like that?"

"And I'm also pretty sure that their kind not only possess the appearance of a cat, but their nature, and DNA too. Meaning they could sometimes act out by instincts alone." Sosuke finished Rinsuke's sentence, causing the other Twin to grumble by the sudden interruption.

"I was gonna say that Rin! Ya don't hafta butt in atta nowhere" Rinsuke continued to pout as his arms crosses over his chest.

"Whatever. But seriously [F/N], you've gotta watch out when you're with that Brother of yours."

"Pshh, what's he gonna do? Think I'm his mate? Sosuke, Rinsuke. He's my Brother, I doubt he'd even try to do anything but sniff me"

"Yer Adopted Brother" Rinsuke corrected, causing Sosuke to nod.

"Oh come on! Tōru nii isn't like that, I promise you" They both looked at each other and sighed.

"If you say so."

And just like that, School came to an end with a single bell. The Three walked out of their class together, waving goodbye to each and everyone of their Friends.

A few loud screams were heard from afar as they got closer to the exit if the School. They exchanged curious looks with each other before following the source of the noise.

"Oh my God! Oikawa-kun's here?! In Japan?!" One of the girls screamed out of excitement as she ran passed Rinsuke, Sosuke, and [F/N].

It startled [F/N], Oikawa had never picked her up from School before. (Due to his crazy schedule that was always packed with Volleyball.)

"[F/N]-Chan! There you are, I was worried that you might have gotten lo-" And there it was, the brief pause of his sentence as soon as he realized that she wasn't standing alone. Slowly, he pushed through his fans with a somewhat apologetic smile. His eyes narrowed, ear twitching from annoyance.

"Who are you?" The Question may seem innocent, but the tone of his voice was filled with venom.

"I- Uh- Rinsuke, sir.. And this is my Bro" Rin patted Sosuke's shoulder, causing him to flinch.

"Well, nice to meet you both but I must get going! And.." Oikawa walked a little closer to his relative, pulling her into his arms. "I'll be taking [F/N]-Chan with me"

Without another word, Tōru turned to walk away with [F/N] in his arms. She peeked behind her Brother, giving Rinsuke and Sosuke a small wave before they completely disappeared from view.

The walk home was quiet, yet Oikawa's arms were still wrapped around her smaller Figure. "Is something wrong Tōru nii..?"

"No, nothing's wrong. Don't worry [F/N]-Chan." She tried her best to struck up the conversation a bit more, but he gave either one word answers or stayed quiet. It felt unsettling, but [F/N] shrugged it off as soon as they reached the Front Door of their House.

"You better take a Shower right now" Was the first thing he mentioned as soon as they walked in, causing her to get startled a bit.

"Oh- uh- alright" [F/N] rushed upstairs and into her room, taking her clothes off slowly before popping herself into the shower.

Oikawa stayed downstairs, watching his previous games against other Teams. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the TV, he just couldn't. With the sound if the shower turned on, and [F/N] humming softly with the music in the background that she usually plays while cleaning herself up; it was hard to focus on anything but that.

Thoughts of her being exposed and freely displayed infront of him rushed through his brain. He knew it was wrong to think of her this way, but who was he kidding? He's fucking addicted.

The sound of the shower turning off caught his attention, meaning she was already done. Did time really fly by fast from all those thoughts? Either way, he couldn't care less.

She emerged from the stairs, descending slowly with her usual Home Outfit. The booty shorts he so feared that might break his last strand of self control, and her tank top that just fits perfectly against her body. It caused his ears to twitch ever so excitedly as soon as she plopped herself beside him without a word.

"Happy?" [F/N] let out as she took off the tow that wrapped around her hair.

Oikawa leaned forward, resting his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled her scent, and eventually his tail descended from its straightened up posture. "Mm" He hummed.

"Why'd you want me to take a bath anyways? It's not like I was dirty or anything"

"You smelled like them." Tōru simply answered, his nose twitching from her sweet lavender scent.

"Hmmmm" [F/N] shifted slightly, putting a bit space between her and Oikawa. "Where's Mom by the way?"

"Oh right, I forgot to mention that she's over at a Friends house right now. Something about a Girls night out"

"Oh- pfft, typical, I can't blame her though. I would have also missed going out with my friends if I was always busy" He didn't reply, nor did he give some sort of answer. His eyes were still glued onto her face, taking in her beauty that he missed back in Argentina.

After a while of silence, he finally spoke up. "You should head to bed, you have Volleyball Practice tomorrow right?"

"Oh, yeah I do"

"Which Position did you obtain?"

"I got setter!"

Oh? So she did end up becoming the Setter of her Volleyball Team after all. "Why did you wanna become the Setter so badly? I mean, you're a great receiver. You should have chosen to become a Libero instead"

"I know, but.. I really wanna be just like you Tōru nii" [F/N] fidgeted in her spot, her eyes sparkled in the sight of her Older Brother. She looked so.. Vulnerable..

He took a sharp inhale, before breathing out. He wasn't gonna lie, it caught him off guard. But the goofy smile spreading across his face showed how ecstatic he was knowing that his Little Sister wanted to be just like him. "Really? [F/N]-Chan! I feel so honored"

She laughed softly, before turning her gaze back to the Game played out for them. "Well, you're the Best Setter I know so.. Is it alright if you'd teach me some things Tōru nii?"

Oikawa nodded, his ego going through the roof as he tilted his chin up. "Now how about this, if you wake up early tomorrow then we could practice together before you head to Schoo-"

"REALLY?! ALRIGHT- I'll go to Sleep now!" [F/N] shot up from her position of the couch, raising her arms in the air like a child. He was startled at first, but eventually smiled softly.

"Here, drink your Milk first. that way you'll go to sleep faster" Tōru picked up the glass of milk on the coffee table, handing it to her with the genuine smile that never fails to make her grin. She uttered a small 'Thank you' before drinking the Milk.

Meanwhile, Oikawa was sitting there, watching intently. Would it be wrong to tell her someday in the near future that he drugged her Milk before giving it to her?

"Phoowee, wow.. -I do feel sleepy.." [F/N] settled the cup back down, facing her older brother with lazy eyes. "Can you carry me up the stairs please? Pretty pleaseee? I'm too lazy"

Tōru pretend to be annoyed, even letting out a small grunt before picking her off the ground. "Alright"

They both ascended up the stairs, with [F/N] comfortably in his arms. It was as if she was molded to fit perfectly wrapped around his fingers.

By the time that they arrived at the front of her bedroom, she was out cold. Her breathing was more even, yet her hands still gripped onto his shirt. "Silly [F/N]-Chan, you really should pay more attention to things you drink. I wonder if your trust for me would shatter if you found out.." He seemed to be lost in thought as he lowered her sleeping figure

Oikawa was shifting, not being able to contain his excitement as he eagerly took off his own sweater. 'Fuck, she looked so defenceless'

He lowered himself a bit. Settling his right hand on top of her stomach, where it slowly dipped further down until he was able to cup her cunt. "Fuck.. Already soaked Princess?" He cooed softly, before pulling her Shorts off. Oikawa took a moment to admire her current state, his fingers gently sliding her cottoned panties off. 'Wouldn't want her to wake up early now'

Tōru licked two of his fingers a bit, before slowly inserting them inside of her pussy. It caused [F/N] to squirm a bit in her spot, her lips quivering slightly. "H-Hrgm..~"

"Shhh... It's alright Baby Girl, Tōru nii's gonna take good care of you okay.." In all honesty, he was still shocked from the fact that his sweet little sister was still a Virgin. It excited him even more to the point where he pistoned his fingers in and out of her dripping cunt. The tightness of his pants slightly bothered him, causing the setter to quickly push the waist band lower.

It continued on for a bit, until he became restless. The pad of his thumb harshly pressed against her clit, making her jolt. "A-AHHH.. -" The lewd moan startled him, but he kept going at his pace. [F/N] continued to tremble under his touch, growing restless as she began to twist and turn in her spot.

He noticed how tighter it got, and more difficult it was to move his fingers. "Fuck.. You're squeezing my fingers like a Vice [F/N]-Chan.. Are you about to cum Princess? Come on, cum for Onii-Chan.." Oikawa continued to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. And eventually, just like he said; she came with a loud moan.

Without hesitation, he pulled her sleeping body up slightly, his back resting against the headboard. Oikawa settled her on his lap, where her cunt rested right on top of his Cock. He shivered a bit, feeling her cum dripping onto his hardened member. He let her lean into him as she continued to sleep peacefully.

As much as he wanted to keep her innocence, the desire to ruin her and completely claim her body as his own grew.

Tōru slowly lifted her up, wrapping his tail around her waist before spreading her cunt with his fingers. "I'm about to take something so valuable from you.." And with that, he dropped her onto his cock, causing it to quickly sink balls deep. [F/N] let out a loud shriek as her eyes flew open. Oikawa stilled his movements and let out a shaky sigh. It felt too good.. Way too good.

"Fuck.. [F/N] you're.. - s-so tight damn" He began to lift her hips up and down repeatedly, setting a steady pace. "I expected you to be tight but.. Wow- fuck it feels good Baby Girl"

It didn't take long for her to register what was going on, her Big Brother's dick sinking inside her pussy, his tail wrapping around her waist, it made her feel light headed to say the least. "T-Tō.. Tōru nii..? W-What are.. What are you doing? Please stop, it hurts.." She spoke in a soft tone, pushing her hands against his broad shoulders in an attempt to move away. But he was much more stronger than she was, and faster too.

"Ah, ah, ah.. Don't fight now [F/N]-Chan! If you struggle, it'll make me even more excited.." He said, licking his lips seductively. A shiver ran down her spine as her hips continued to move with his help.

"This is wrong- please stop- I-I won't tell anyone this ever h-happened.. I swear.. Just please sto- ooo-o.. AHHHHHHHH..!" Oikawa had enough of her babbling about how she didn't want any of this. So instead of taking it easy on her like how he planned. He began to buck his hips, causing a loud whimper to fall from her lips as she tried to continue her sentence. "P-Please Tōru nii stop..!"

"Fuck, I just told you that if you struggle it'll excite me more.. Are you doing this on purpose? You fucking slut.." His pace got even faster, and his thrust was more rough. "You know, seeing you with those Bastards really hurt me [F/N]-Chan! I thought I was the only Male in your Life"

The tone of his voice sounded as if he was genuinely hurt, she would have felt bad, she would have if it wasn't for the fact that he was literally pistoning his dick in and out of her pussy. "T-Tōru..~!" [F/N] moaned out his name. Somehow, it flicked a switch deep inside Oikawa.

Causing him to act by instincts. Instead of his usual thought out actions, he pushed her off, pinning both of her wrists above her head with one hand. His ears began to twitch, and the tail that he affectionately wrapped around her waist was now tightening its grip. "Tō-Tōru..!"

There it was again, it sounded like music to his ears. He needed to hear more of it right away. So without further interruptions, he began to spread her legs. [F/N] let out a small shriek as soon as she felt the tip of his member push against her folds.

Her toes curled, and her back arched. Tōru didn't care whether or not it hurt for her, his pace was rough and frantic. As if his Animalistic tropes were overpowering his usual humane self. He wanted to breed her so badly, spill his sperm deep inside her womb until she was a quivering mess. "T-TŌRU, TŌRU!" His name continuously spilled out of her mouth.

And no doubt, it made him even more rough with her. "Fuck! You're such a fucking slut for hanging out with those Bastards. should've known you'd do this from the start" There it was, his tip hitting that spot that made her see stars. She flinched, her moans getting even more uncontrollably louder. "Yeah? You like that? You like it here?" Tōru moved his free hand below her ass, lifting her up slightly where he could easily thrust up to her G-Spot.

"H-Hrm..! T-Tōru.. 'M Cumming, I'm Cumming Tōru!"

"Then cum, Princess" And just like that, [F/N] came around his cock. Her eyes closing slightly as she rode out her orgasm. But Oikawa didn't stop there, he was chasing his own high after all. With a few more seconds of him thrusting harshly into her abused cunt, he finally came undone. Spilling his cum deep in her womb with a shaky sigh. "F.. Fuck.. Yeah.."

His cock softened, but he didn't pull away nor did he move an inch. Oikawa rested on top of her, his breathing becoming even. "Onii Chan loves you.. You do know that right..?" [F/N] nodded, her lips quivering from the over stimulation being present.

"Use your words pretty girl, I wanna hear you say it" He caressed her hair, stroking some of his finger through.

"Yes, I know.."

"What do you know?"

"I.. T-That... Tōru nii loves me.."

"Good Girl. You do know that no one else loves you right? I love you more than anyone in the whole wide world" She nodded slowly, fidgeting slightly.

"You love me, right?"

"I love you" Despite being mortified earlier, she eventually snuggled closer to her Older Brother. Giving into his twisted fantasies. He felt satisfied with himself, pulling her even closer. She couldn't deny him, she couldn't fight. After all, big brothers know best.

[aos-avenger]

Consequences: Part 2.

So I got inspired again. This one is from Robbe's POV and can be considered a continuation or read alone.

Synopsis: Robbe still finds it hard to sleep. Or my take on the reunion to hold us over until it actually happens.

Warning: Contains reference to triggering events.

Apologies: May contain spelling and/or grammar mistakes.

Robbe tossed and turned in his bed. He felt worried and agitated; a combination that wasn't allowing him to fall asleep easily. He desperately yearned for the blissful nothingness of slumber, but more often then not, he had been unable to succumb to the pull of never, never land.

Instead he was plagued with dreams.

Maybe even nightmares.

Sometimes it felt like his dreams (nightmares) followed him around during the day. He could have sworn he'd seen a bleached blond head across the street from his home the other day, but when he'd looked again, there was no one there.

When he woke in the mornings, all he felt was a deep, relentless craving for something he thought he shouldn't have.

Because his dreams (nightmares) were consumed with a blond haired, blue eyed boy.

And when Sander wasn't taking up every crevice of Robbe’s exhausted mind, then another, more awful memory filled up the space to the point where Robbe couldn’t breathe.

When he woke from those truly horrific nightmares, another form of craving took over. He wanted to be able to wrap himself around Sander, to cling to him, to know he was safe. Because Sander could have been killed.

They both could have been killed.

But Sander had disappeared into the ether; leaving an icy wind in his wake.

Eventually, Robbe felt like he was in that space where he was half-asleep, half-awake. Unsure what reality even was. Sometimes his dreams were so vivid, he couldn’t tell the difference until light was streaming in through his curtains.

His curtains that weren't yellow.

Robbe's phone lit up beside him . He'd taken to keepping it close in case Sander reached out. Apparently, that notion had followed him into his dreams now. And because it was a dream he was having, he knew that it would be Sander's handsome face lighting up his screen.

Robbe answered the call .

“I'm outside your door.” Sander's voice was hushed, as if he was afraid if he spoke loudly he's spook Robbe away. “Will you let me in?”

Robbe hung up without answering.

Dragging himself out of bed, already knowing how this dream was supposed to go, he didn’t bother putting on pants or switching on any lights. His lamp was still on, but he often fell asleep with it on lately. He blindly fumbled for the keys in the hallway and opened the door to find Sander waiting.

Usually in Robbe's dreams Sander looked amazing. While he still looked amazing to Robbe, there was noticeable dark circles under his eyes, his hair was lacklustre and going every which way. He just looked plain exhausted.

“I thought you weren't going to let me in.”

Robbe didn't care that this was a dream. He just wanted to be close to the taller boy. He grabbed him by that stupid (only because of the post Britt had made wearing it) leather jacket he always wore and dragged him to his bedroom.

Sander seemed confused.

Although Robbe couldn’t be sure, because he hadn’t looked back up at his face yet.

Robbe started to divest Sander of his clothes.

First, the green bag that he wore across his body, which he set at the end of his bed.

Then, the (stupid) leather jacket.

Robbe was about to toss that across the room, but then decided to put it on instead. Because it smelled like Sander and he wanted to replace the memory of Britt wearing it.

Then he went for Sander’s jeans, but paused before he did anything. He looked up at Sander's blue, blue eyes and swallowed hard. The taller boy was staring at Robbe in the leather jacket in a way that made him shudder.

But this wasn't about sex.

It was about comfort.

And Sander seemed to be able to read his mind. He got rid of his jeans himself and waited patiently for Robbe's next move.

Robbe rewarded his patience by climbing him like a monkey. Sander didn’t seem to mind though, helping him by lifting Robbe’s thighs and wrapping them around his waist.

Both boys breathed out a sigh of relief at the contact.

Robbe kissed his shoulder.

Sander hand curled into Robbe's hair.

“I want to explain...”

“It's okay Sander, you can explain it to me in real life,” Robbe interrupted him, not wanting his dream to make up reasons for Sander's behaviour.

“Real life?” Sander sounded perplexed, but he didn’t pull away from Robbe.

Robbe wanted to crawl inside him.

“This is just my dream,” Robbe explained to Sander. “I miss you so much that I dream about you showing up at my apartment. I dream about having you in my bed. About kissing you and touching you. I dream that whenever I’m scared I can cuddle up to you and feel your heat seep into my bones. Feel your heartbeat under my fingertips.”

“Oh, Robbe,” Sander whispered into his hair.

“I trust you'll find your way back to me in the real world,” Robbe continued, playing with the hair at the nape of Sander’s neck. “And even if you don't, I just want you to be happy and safe. Because you deserve those things. I wish somebody had told me that, so I want you to hear it.”

Sander pulled Robbe impossibly closer, squeezing tighter.

Wetness hit the side of Robbe's face, where he'd pressed his forehead against Sander's neck slidding down the younger boys cheek.

“Robbe, I’m sorry. I'm so sor..,” Sander's voice broke.

“It's okay, Sander, it’s okay.” Robbe took Sander’s face in his hands and kissed his tears away, tasting the saltiness on his tongue. “You're safe. Don't worry,” he breathed the words into Sander's skin, as he kissed his entire face, clinging to his body.

Sander lowered them to the bed, and with Robbe still attached to him, he managed to wiggle them so that he was resting his back against Robbe’s head broad. The blond boy had gotten himself under control, his hands finding there way under the leather jacket that Robbe still wore and then his t-shirt.

“Robbe?” Sander could feel how relaxed the smaller boy was, his breathing evening out, his head tucked under Sander's chin.

“Uhm?” Robbe hummed, nuzzling against Sander’s neck.

“Just so you know, this is real life. I'm really here.”

Robbe badly wanted that to be true. “Promise to be here when I wake up? You won't leave me again?”

It's easy to be vulnerable when you thought you were dreaming.

“I promise, Robbe. I'm not going anywhere.”

[gg-astrology]

Hey, I really love reading what you have to say about all the signs and I extremely enjoy seeing you on my timeline💕 I was wondering what your thoughts on Virgo sun/Aquarius moon is, I'm sorry if I'm really awkward, you don't have to answer this if you don't want❤

Hey there!!! 💕💕💕 Aaah thank u so much!! 💕 You’re not awkward at all pls don’t worry 💕💕 I’ll do my best ok?? 💕

[Below Cut: Virgo Sun - Aquarius Moon 🍒]

This is so cool to see, particularly bc you have some FIRE underneath that virgo flame

No you don’t need to be a fire sign to be fiery, Aquarius gives you enough ‘oomph’ to bring the normally demure Virgo image to a ???? you’re not all of what you seem sometimes--- you are much more active than you realize!

Usually you know you’re mentally active right? Like extensively inquiring/thoughtful, with Virgo paying attention to detail and Aquarius taking things far and wide-- you may have thoughts that pops up like ‘hm i wonder how this can be applied??’ (less direct than that) it makes you a visionary, but also a day-dreamer as well (lost in thought or like the usual ‘mmhmm’ automatic response when you’re thinking deep/hard about something) 

It’s having thorough “realizations” of the small stuff, the material, your everyday thing and then suddenly being hit like a freight train of the “possibilities of more/others/bigger” -- like suddenly looking up from staring at your feet and seeing the world around you

That’s the kind of thing from the logical and often prudent Virgo being mixed with the big-schemer/cash-dealer side of Aquarius. It’s like-- you aren’t all stiff and awkward, you have moments where you get fired up about things too. 

Aquarius is determined, stand-its-ground, doesn’t budge until it’s point gets across. Virgo isn’t just for show either, it stands up for the betterment of the world (servitude rmb)--if something needs to be said, they’ll fight to say it even if there’s adversary against them.

The way you give back to the world (as Virgos do) is through your independence/autonomous being (as much as you can afford)-- your mental strength and your integrity. You have the bigger public in mind, the bigger deal, reason, people. 

Not just the locals or those around you-- but making them see ‘truths’ about the world that’s bigger than them (important to note bc Uranus/Aquarius is like the higher vibration of Mercury/Virgo--so it’s like, making locals sees reason beyond just what they know, making them see the things that are ‘bigger than them’ y know?)

That’s how Virgo serves when it’s combined with Aquarius, as the median/spokesperson for the bigger, the ‘right’ (whatever that is)

You’re a pace-setter, not as much as an off-beat person as you think you are. You do like being in control (esp in social conversations) of topics, of flow, of where the conversation can be going. You observe people with a fascination and often-- if you draw, you use people-watching to practice anatomy drawings (let’s be real, you’re rather great at scientific study/observation stuff tbh)

As much as you like the collaborative potluck of ideas that comes from communication/conversations together, you also like to be at the fore-front, have a direction/your own path to walk on before the next ‘meet up’ too (leading, but not as out-right/bold as others).

You don’t like being caught off guard tbh, like you like when things are exciting/thrilling and ‘open paths up’ for you-- but you don’t like doing a 180 or topsy turvey on something (a concept/idea/etc.) -- you don’t like being invested in something and then finding out you were doing it the wrong way. 

You don’t like starting over, all the time and effort you did/took with you loses it’s spark the second time around. You’re just repeating, refining the body now -- and sure, you shrug and think that’s good too (the idea of having space/time to double check your work before you hand it in so others can’t tell you things you carelessly missed out). 

But it still doesn’t take away from the fact that you don’t pull your punches on the first round, and then have to face a lil disappointment when ya gotta do it again y know.

You don’t tend to hide from some controversial subjects or ideas, the opportunity to utilize your ‘deep-thinking’ and already seeing synapses lighting up when you see the words excites you already (but you are cautious, and tactful-- Virgo wouldn’t let you speak/say it without double checking with Aquarius a few more times). 

You’re a thrill seeker, a lil maverick by nature (nobody said Virgo has to be noble all the time) -- both mentally and spiritually, you’re excited by expressing yourself/your ideas and can tend to get a Look in your eyes (and gesture with your hands) when you’re ‘on a roll’ about something

Most people get really hung up about your detachment-- which, true, you are a little detached sometimes from human emotions/full empathy. Part of you is just annoyed that being ‘dependable’ for someone else means you’ll have to be accountable/be there for others-- which cuts down on your independence, your autonomous being. You’d much rather go off your own path like a loner than deal with people depending on you or staying with you. 

Sometimes it makes you really cold, especially since you lack the patience/tolerance to wait for others or be there in a group with others. Learn how to work in a team, do group work. How to compromise and collaborate fruitfully, you’ll need to get more in touch with your own emotions too. Since you can’t let Aquarius rationalize/tear it apart every time and Virgo run away from it’s own nervous/vulnerabilities all the time either. 

You get really focused/self-disciplined with wanting to have mastery/proficiency at something that sometimes you just--- detach/lock yourself away from others completely. Again, learn how to co-operate and feel empathy for yourself/others more fully.

Ahhh I hope this is helpful!! 💕💕 Good luck with everything! 💕💕

[lovemecharlie]

Five Months In.

Charlie's Gender Reveal x Kristina the FreakyThief finds a new love 💕

Charlie felt like she was on her period almost, but without the blood and once her belly had grown to a noticeable size, suddenly everyone in her life was an expert on pregnancy and babies, feeling the need to tell her everything they'd ever half-read or heard. Her parents had stories about her childhood for days, odd stories that only Erik wanted to hear so that he could look at her and laugh. He wanted to get slapped, Charlie had the suspicion that he got off on it especially since she'd been a bit more temperamental than usual. Her moods changed quicker than Bastion's outfits. Her clients had helpful tidbits at times, but mostly empty aww's, nosey digging questions, and general knowledge. Nothing for the swelling, constipation, or bloating. She was grateful for the consideration and well wishes, but she wished people would mind their own business in the most polite way possible while keeping their hands to themselves. They weren't at the Apollo and her stomach was not a block of wood people could rub for good luck. Anyway, that was neither here nor there, the day of her gender reveal had arrived and she was determined to have a great day. She felt energized and there was a party to prep for.

"Need help," Erik asked waltzing into the room. He never knocked, he'd always just barge in.. often not even saying anything, just staring out of the window. Sometimes she'd stand next to him and he'd hug her. Those were the times she wondered if he was really okay, though she never asked, she just stood with him. "Nope, I'm feeling pretty decent so I've got this," Charlie smiled casually lifting from the bed to take her shower. Erik walked to her west facing floor to ceiling window. Nearly all of her walls were replaced with windows tinted from the outside. Thick glass stretched horizontally across the room, giving a magnificent sky view, property view, and beyond. He could see everything from her windows, the perfect high perch.

"You know this used to be my office before we met? I used to come in here to think when life, Wakanda, the center, Hennessy, Angéle, Kimora, and that damn Davita," he smirked, "..would get to be too much." He paused looking out and Charlie made her way to his side to stare out as well. "Sometimes they would really raise a nigga blood pressure to the point where I could either snap and do something terrible that I'd regret or I could walk away. It's like the same decision has been presented to me over and over again my whole life and because of the love implanted in me by my father, I've been forced to face these situations head on. Because I loved my wives, I couldn't hurt them like I'd hurt someone else. I'd lock myself in this room and look out these windows reminding myself of why I chose this road. Why I ain't give up in Wakanda? Why do I still push for these folk who act like they don't give a damn when I do it for them? Why I let myself fall in love?"

Charlie simply listened as Erik was transported back in time through his thoughts.

"I want you to know that no matter what happens in this house, you're special to me like this room is special to me. I'm safe with you. Don't think I don't appreciate it and all the times you spent right here with me while I was going through it."

Wordless, Charlie wrapped her arms around his waist, her head against his bare chest. He smelled good.. clean and fresh like rain. His fingers absentmindedly played in her curls as they stood there in silence.

"Can I be your safe place," he asked suddenly, catching Charlie off guard and causing her to realize that other than prayer.. she didn't really have one. She didn't trust anyone enough to be that vulnerable. Did she even trust Erik? She had to think about it. No, she didn't, but if she was going to stay with him, she needed to start. There was a long silence, since she refused to give him a yes that she did not mean and he was patient as he said he'd be.

"..Yes," she finally whispered into his raised skin answering the spoken and unspoken questions between the two of them. On her return to the household, she'd promised she'd try to make the marriage work and this was taking a giant step in the right direction. She hoped she wouldn't regret it.

The shower was exactly what her body needed and when she emerged towel-wrapped and hair wet, Erik was still there at her window. She approached and he did a double take, taking in the wet curls draping over her shoulders and her glistening skin. As if forgetting the thoughts he'd been tangled in, he tilted her head back kissing her on the forehead and lips before halting her with his hands in the air. "Wait here, I'll be right back," he stressed before jogging off. When he returned a minute or so later, she was sitting on the bed, waiting. He held out a garment bag and what he unveiled was a jumpsuit. An iridescent champagne colored jumpsuit with a long bejeweled train glowing from the waist. It was beautiful.

"This is for me?" Charlie leaped inspecting the garment. It was precisely her style.

"Try it on," Erik grinned full of pride, helping her into it. It was a perfect tapered and comfortable fit with space for her growing belly. She looked in the mirror, her smile wide as he stood behind her adding a chunky diamond choker set in more diamonds in rose gold. "Don't worry," he rushed watching her expression, "I'll return it if you don't wanna keep it, but for today let me ice you out. Then you can trade it for a mountain of haircare products or whatever it is you splurge on."

She laughed. She splurged on gifts. The Kompound was bougie and fancy as hell. Diamond this and that, cars on cars.. She couldn't buy them Calvin Klein. Calvin Klein??? She'd be shot! No, she saved her coins and splurged on holidays so that she could afford the big brands.

"I'm a spoil my lil monster when she comes. She finna be the iciest baby all because her mama wanna be plain."

"You can spoil our SON however you wanna spoil our SON, HE's our SON," Charlie grinned.

"Like I said, my PRINCESS will get the south pole around her neck."

"Poor polar bears," Charlie chuckled admiring her sparkling reflection. She needed to beat her face and throw on some heels, although her feet were swollen. She wondered if she could jam them into some heels.

"Just wear flats," he chuckled dropping some sparkly flat shoes near her feet.

"I want heels. This look needs heels!" Her hands posed on her hips, she was feeling herself, standing on her toes.

"As clumsy as you are without them? I don't need a reason to worry. Angel's pregnancy stressing me enough."

"How are you holding up?"

He looked at her like he had just run a marathon and was out of breath, shaking his head.

"Damn," she grimaced. "It'll be worth it. Once the twins get here and she's given birth, she will heal and you will too. You'll be able to show her all the love you've been afraid to and the twins will help you."

"I'm scared, Charlie. I need her around. I don't know what I'll do if... I can't.. I can't do this shit without her-"

"I know. She'll be okay," Charlie smiled holding his chin in her hand, "She will!!! You'll be okay. You'll look back on all of this and it'll be another segment of your crazy life that you've fought through. You're Killmonger! If anyone can make it through this rough stage, it's you. Positive thoughts. In fact, let's go see Angel right now."

---

The time had come and Charlie's face was finally beat, her hair twisted with added hair in a long ponytail. She felt like a badass intergalactic fairy. Erik wore white, his vest accented with the same champagne iridescent material. The wives, Kristina, and Davita wore variations from the same color family from champagne to white to silver to lavender.. as did the extended family for the most part. Diamonds dangled all over and everyone was beautiful. The event was in the massive backyard near the lush garden where the large gazebo stood overgrown and taken over by flowers. The DJ mixed oldies like Frankie Beverly and Earth Wind & Fire with new music from the likes of Sango, H.E.R, Khalid, MNEK, etc. There was even a sprinkling of some lit gospel, something for everybody. People drank, laughed, danced, and feasted on a spread produced by the mansion's kitchen staff. Of course, Josphine and Kristina had to contribute a few gems like cobblers and pies because they had a specific way of making them that couldn't be duplicated.

When the games came, the guests got even louder and Charlie was grateful that Erik owned so much land, the neighbors were far away. "It's a boy, her stomach is low!" "She a little fatter in the middle, it's a girl." "It's gotta be a boy!" "No, the baby's too high, she's a girl!" Charlie earhustled as the loud debates went on and Erik being the hustler that he was took bets causing Charlie to roll her eyes. Nakia insisted that the baby was a girl siding with Erik while T'Challa refused to comment. Nakia's sideeye kept him from disagreeing. The wives refrained from comment too, already aware of the baby's gender since they'd set up the reveal.

"Travante!" Charlie yelled, waving excitedly when she noticed the chocolate man appear in white and silver, his smile the whitest of all.

Erik's brow raised as he watched the exchange from a short distance away, his ears listening hard as he watched her lips trying to read them. He decided to trust that Charlie knew what she was doing while he socialized, but he still stayed close.

"I'm glad you could make it," Charlie grinned giving Tre a loving side hug and dragging him to meet the other wives. "Y'all this is THE Trevante. Trevante, this is Hennessy, Kimora, her sister Davita, Bastion.."

"I've seen you before," he pointed to her and she grinned, swishing her dress, flattered.

"This is Aly'Sha, Ryley, Angel.."

"Wow! I've heard about you. I'm glad you're doing better.. and you look stunning. You strong as hell," he gaped and Angel's warm smile made him smile.

"Aight nigga," Erik spoke in warning stepping back to Angel's side in her tricked out Chanel inspired black and gold wheelchair. He was being extremely patient and Charlie was proud, giving his hand a squeeze as she smiled at Tre. Tre nodded, calm and understanding.

"And this is Josephine, Homie, and where is... oh there she is!" Charlie grinned. Over by the dessert table was Kristina making sure everything remained presentable and attractive. She wore a champagne sequined one- shoulder dress that fit her like a second skin, her cleavage sparkling and her full and flowing. "Kristina," Charlie yelled waving her over. The second she spotted Trevante, her eyes focused in on his face and she swallowed.

"This is our little bee, Kristina. Little bee, meet Trevante," Charlie gestured. Kristina's face flushed and Trevante grinned. It was an instant connection that Charlie felt. She could see the chemistry creating bonds on their eyes. It made her feel like playing Cupid.

"Aow SHIT," Charlie yelled dropping her glass of sparkling cider. It shattered and Erik pulled her away quickly from the glass. As he was about to bend to pick it up, she gripped him hard pausing him. "Tre, would you mind going to find a staff member to clean this up? Check in the house. Kristina, could you escort him so that he knows where to go? I'm so clumsy, wow. I can't believe I did that.. Sheesh!"

Watching the two walk away toward the house, Charlie saw the visual herself and Erik in the early stages and it made her smile.

"Okay, Cupid," Erik grinned, "I see you."

"See what happens when you trust me," she mused.

As the festivities continued, the moment everyone had been waiting for finally came. Charlie was so anxious with excited energy that Erik had to rub her arms and he was just as antsy. "Are you excited, are you excited, are you excited?" Charlie bounced.

"AHH," good his eyes widened before he shook his head laughing out the excess energy.

"Look at you, you shook boy," Hennessy teased. "We already know the gender, it's fun watching you sweat," Ryley laughed enjoying the flustered Erik. He put up a playful middle finger, pacing and Charlie could see him taking deep breaths. "As long as it's healthy," she mouthed and he nodded picking up the bedazzled handgun and aiming it at the target set up free and clear in the distance, a large white balloon with 'Charlie & Erik' written on it in black script. She picked up the identical gun laid out for her and aimed it at the large black balloon with the same writing in white.

"You ready, C?"

Charlie made sure her aim was on point. "Let's go get'em!"

The guns fired simultaneously and both balloons popped flaring into two pink explosions. Erik dropped the gun, not knowing what to do with himself as his arms swung across his body.

"TOLD YO ASS," he grinned with an aggressive index pointing, eyes wet. Charlie wiped his eyes nodding. She was speechless, her own eyes wide in shock. She really thought it was a boy, but she was happy regardless. Nakia could be heard in the crowd telling M'Baku to pay up and all of the wives congratulated the happy couple one at a time followed by the party-goers, some of them very drunk. It was a perfect moment.

"Daka," Charlie whispered in Erik's ear with a humored expression once they caught a break, "Where did the little bee and Trevante go? Did they ever come back?" Erik grinned rubbing his beard and shaking his head before looking to the house. They'd been MIA for a while.

@poosypoosy @bastioncarterstevens-udaku @hennessystevens-udaku @itsangeludaku @alyshastevens-udaku @itskimorafireudaku @allhailnjadaka @bidibidibombaclaat @blackpinup22 @destinio1 @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @leahnicole1219 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark @trevantesbrat

[go-diane-winchester]

Is Misha the professor of slash fiction?

I feel very sad for the teens in fandom, who have fledgling sexualities and instead of letting them explore these things organically and healthily, via slash fiction, Misha wants to school them on slash, a subject he has piss poor knowledge of.  Because he is a well known figure, in SPN circles, they assume that he knows what he is talking about.  Slash fiction has nothing to do with the actors or the characters they portray.  In fact, validation is not needed.  Slash is not about an actor or show or character or other external parties.  It is internal.  It has everything to do with the girl writing the story, and is a reflection of her sexual expression.  Actors and characters are merely muses, not the foundations blocks for your happiness mansion.  You don't need their permission or blessing.  A slasher's sexuality is being exhibited through the stories she writes. 

Once upon a time, women wrote only what they like.  If they didn't like something, they steered clear of it, because that is what people with common sense do.  I, for example, can't read fellatio because it doesn't do anything for me.  I guess its because I am not a man, don't have a penis and therefore don't know what it feels like, so I don't appreciate it.  In my stories, my characters don't fellate each other.  If I read a story that is really enjoyable and fellatio makes an appearance, I skip that paragraph.  However, I don't berate the person for writing something I personally don't like.  She wrote it perhaps because she finds it enjoyable. 

Its a big world.  Tolerance is key.  There is enough space for everyone.....well except for satanists and pedophiles.  I draw the line there. 

Today, women are not really writing for themselves.  They are writing homosexually appropriate sex scenes, just so that their gay male readers, that are not the majority, don't scoff at them and go ''that's not how we do it''.  Yes, the gay friends in this bubble are happy, but the majority of the slash fans that are mostly heterosexual women are left feeling lackluster.  Perhaps that is why there is a general trend for women to ''grow out of slash fiction'' and even mass media is seeing slash fiction as a teenage girl's pass time.  Women, who are fully grown, and fully aware of their sexuality can't pretend to like the stories because the stories are no longer appealing.  Of course, some Misha fans are A-OK with that artistic injustice because ''Misha would love it because he is not a bigot''.  It has nothing to do with bigotry.  Sometimes, it is best to leave out the sex scene rather than make a select few happy.  Slash sex was never meant to be realistic sex.  It is, after all, generally written by straight females for straight females.  Its fantastical, as it should be. 

In early slash stories that I read, back in the lord of the ring days, ukes came the way women do, without a hand on them.  Why?  Because that is how women usually orgasm.  They write what they know.  However, young sexually inactive girls, listening to Misha and his LGBT slash tirades, endeavor to make stories ''accurate''.  So now we have lots of young girls, growing up with a better understanding of gay sex than of straight sex.  Proper slash or classic slash is an artistic manifestation of straight sex.  The drivel that we have now is political correct, inclusive nonsense that gay men didn't ask for and women don't feel overwhelming enthusiastic about.  I don't know what the ramifications of that is going to be other than women deserting slash fiction. 

I would like to point out at this juncture, that as far as SPN is concerned, Misha is a culprit.  But there were one more culprit.  There was one who communicated with general slash fans around the early 2000s.  His name was minotaur.  And he tried to school slashers on how to write gay sex correctly because they weren't doing a good enough job for his liking.  He had no business doing that.  It has nothing to do with him.  Slash fiction is for woman.  Gay fiction or bara is for men. 

I like J2 alternate universe.  If I write a story, Jensen is always the baby.  Baby is the word I used to use during my Lord of the Rings days, before I realized that the word uke existed.  Does it mean that anyone who makes Jared the baby in their story is wrong?  No, they may see more vulnerability is Jared than I do.  I like Jensen as the baby because he is smaller and has the eyelashes and the mouth and the really beautiful face.  Do I think he is effeminate?  Of course not.  But when I write a story where I need the baby to be a kidnap victim or abused stepchild or ethereal unattainable prince, I like to see Jensen in that role.  It has nothing to do with him.  It is how I like to write.  Its about my perception.  He is just a muse.

I like seeing Jared as the daddy.  Go ahead and laugh.  I still smirk about this embarrassing word that I used before I know seme existed.  I like when Jared kicks down the door to save Jensen, or pins Jensen's abusive step father to a wall with his elbow in the man's throat or falling clumsily all over himself to woo the Prince Jensen.  I cant see him as a baby because he is so fricking huge and tall, with the rippling muscles, expansive torso and broad shoulders.  Its is, for me at least, too easy to write him as a knight in shining armor, then as an abused baby locked away in a dungeon. 

The Jensen and Jared in my stories are mere avatar of the real actors.  They are manifestations of my sexuality and what I like sexually.  If people don't write a story that you like, then write it yourself.  But don't make people change their perception to suit you.  And don't change your perception to suit them.  Slash stories are more about personal sexual exploration than about satisfying every reader out there.  Slash fiction has never been about winning popularity contests.  Only the destiel fans do that now.  Reader opinions matter but not about who should be the seme and who should be the uke.  You cant tell others how to navigate their sexual expression.  

Of course, I have read stories, where Jared was the baby and Jensen was the daddy and the story was enjoyable.  So no harm, no foul.   Mpreg is proof that slash is a female art form.  The first mpreg story was written in the early 1990s.  The only other people who write mpreg now, write it as a creative exercise.  I used to feel embarrassed by mpreg especially if men found out about it.  But now I am fiercely protective of it.  Because its one of the last remnants of female sexuality in slash fiction.  Female sexuality is [most of the time] synonymous with child birth.  As soon as girls become sexually mature, generally, a desire awaken in them to be mothers.  Why do you think there are so many teen writing mpreg.  Its because their minds and bodies are becoming ready for motherhood in the future.  Slashers consider child birth to be a very big deal.  So they reserve it for their darling and not the other guy in the pairing.  You don't see mpreg popping up as frequently in bara because gay men don't fall pregnant and therefore don't have a natural maternal desire.  Mpreg is big in SPN.  The brothers, Cas, even Kevin have gotten knocked up.  SPN is like a regular maternity ward.  But if you don't like, don't whine about it.  Slashers, like any other writer, only write what they like.  Forcing them to do otherwise is rather arrogant.

I realize that Misha might not know anything about mpreg because he hasn't spoken about it in his panels.  If this is true, then I hope it stays that way.  Unless he spoke about it.  I don't watch Misha panels unless I need to.  For example when I heard that he had actually spoken about Cockles, the rps pairing of him and Jensen, I had to check it out for myself.  No way was he going to be so reckless.  I watched it and yep.  He did do it.  He thinks Cockles is just rps.  It isn't.  It is also a tinhat pairing.  I personally, have no issue with tinhatting.  Dream up whatever scenario you want but don't bring it to the actors.  That is invasive, intrusive and just plain wrong.  I don't care what your tinhat pairing is. 

That is why, I wish Misha will stop talking about slash fiction.  He is going into areas that he knows nothing about and he paints slash fiction as something that it isn't.  Even having a civil discussion about slash fiction is hampered because the answer to anything from that camp is usually ''Well, Misha doesn't have a problem with it''.  Misha is not your father.  You don't have to see slash fiction or anything else through the Misha Collins lens.  Use your own common sense.  Normal destiel fans understand this.  Hellers are another story.

Slash fiction is not about the show or the actors, so there is absolutely no need to seek their approval.  They are only a part of your sexual fantasy due to aesthetics.  The proper definition of slash fiction should be:  Slash fiction is an escapist fantasy platform showcasing stories and artwork, by women for women, about male subjects in a romantic setting.  Leaving out the words ''homoerotic'' does away with multiple confusions, because slash is not gay porn.  I have read stories that don't even feature a sex scene but only allude to it, because the story is plot heavy.  I have also noticed how seldom a subject is a one shot actually indulge in an anonymous one night stand.  They don't cruise either.  That is because straight [and sometimes bi] women, generally, don't like that.  If you read a story like that, I don't think a woman wrote it. 

Misha Collins is singlehandedly ruining one of the few things that genuinely made me smile through my terrible day.  I don't care what minotaur did to other slash fans, because originally it didn't disturb my little corner of the internet.  When slash was true to itself, is the classical sense, women were still honest with themselves about their sexuality.  Bullying was infrequent and slash fiction was not ruined beyond repair.  Now his more problematic fans are bleeding onto other fandoms and influencing their thought process.  I really wish he would read this and stop.

Errata:  James Franco wrote a fanfiction book about Lana Del Ret, and not slash fiction.  He has been accused of queer baiting, because of teasing the gay lifestyle, but he doesn't seem to interfere with slash fiction.  The post has been amended.

[gg-astrology]

Helloooo :) I don't know if it is too late but, what do you think of cap sun taurus moon? :o

HAH WE HAVE THE SAME PLACEMENTS!!!! 💕 ITS CALL OUT TIME!! 💕💕

(and no ure not too late don’t worry 💕 thank u for dropping by anyways!!)

[Below Cut: Capricorn Sun - Taurus Moon 🍃]

We’re a lot more earthier than our usual earthy counterparts, like if anything if we’re not surrounded by atleast 5 trees we Will Die

It gets especially hard living in an urban city because….we might not be accessible to parks all the time.

Although we might like leafy greens and fauna, some of us may have a hard time motivating ourselves to keeping them alive/grow our own garden even when we like the ~aesthetic~

Second most self-praise thing is our voice. With the combination of Capricorn/Taurus you might realize that we tend to have influential voices when speaking to others (others see reasons/listens to us– can be kind of like the ‘therapist’ in groups of friends because they tend to give solid advice and tries to make it practical for others)

It’s a persuasive ability, where we give other people nudges towards the right direction usually through a socratic dialogue (like asking them questions and letting them find the answer themselves)

Because Taurus is ruled by Venus, we appeal to the emphathy/putting ourselves in other people’s shoes (social relationships) to show others how to view things differently

There’a terrible stubborn streak amongst us, where we feel like we constantly need time to ‘digest’ experiences in order to utilize them fully.

Our time works differently than others, 2 days weekend isn’t enough to do that. And once things start picking up we switch gears from ‘oh no I don’t have time to absorb’ into ‘fuck I gotta find my pattern’ in order to survive

Always in survival mode, the bare minimum. Keep a straight-focused outlook on things so we could concentrate on it instead (while in the moment)

Switches between moments of independency (and cherishing it) and wanting support/to be surrounded by others and help them (in the domestic life/sphere).

If your bed and your room is your friend. This is your ‘safe space’ and you can never work here. You’ll have delegated ‘spaces’ for working/productivity. Thus it becomes a conditioned ‘motive/pattern’ you set for yourself.

You can try to be soft an gentle, but you will Realize that you are a very straight-forward and blunt person. We all look constipated when we try to phrase something in a different way, often we don’t come up with a gentler phrase so we just– drag it out, cautiously to see if the other person is receptive to it or not.

Surprisingly we say ‘sorry’ quite often bc we Know other people might put it gentler than us but we don’t know how to Do It

AH most important thing— quiet doesn’t mean shy. Although we can tend to be shy early on in our childhood (*if it comes to that). Quiet is just comfortable, like ‘I don’t have to say stuff if I don’t have anything to say’ when you’re comfortable with urself/ur company y know

Most people might think we’re being ‘unnaturally quiet’ if you have an active Mercury/Venus that says otherwise— but there are moments where you’re just— chilling, and people are concerned even when you’re just ‘absorbing’ the view

When you’re stress, it shows. When you’re really anxiety ridden and nervous, others can tell it in your oppressive silence. Your face blanks out, and that normally doesn’t happen. Your eyes vacant, and your close friend can pick that up pretty quickly.

Although you like to touch and be touched, you can also be demanding about it. Like ‘pet my hair’ ‘squeeze me tight’ or something specific like ‘hold onto my rib-cage/sides’ — it’s weird I know. But it’s like, if you want something you ask for it or you go get it. 

Emotions are— hard. Because you tend to hide your own pains/bury them a lot. You’re not even aware that you feel more than what you feel in the moment. Capricorn suppresses and Taurus redirects. So you’re not even sure where your emotions go when in hiding.

Sometimes you can be in the shower and think ‘have i ever felt jealous?? envious of people???’ and it takes a little more time and retrospection to get familiar with emotions

Accepting ‘negative’ emotions and ‘ugly’ behaviors in yourself is extremely hard to do. This is because you pride yourself in being ‘kind’ to others. Thus you may be much stricter on yourself than you are with anyone else.

Doesn’t mean you don’t get strict with the people around you, you do. Especially when they’re doing detrimental things to themselves. You’re much better at dealing with them than your own problems though.

Sometimes your retrospection eats away at your thoughts at night, things to do, functions to execute, where are you now? What have you done? Are you going to be happy in say 5 years? What do you have for your ambitions?

You can be protective of people around you, especially after you see them cry or in pain. Your protective instinct kicks in really strongly, and you may have trouble letting them have autonomy without atleast giving them a hard look and saying shit like ‘ok, if that’s what you think/makes you happy’. 

With your best friends, you may used to have the idea that they’re yours. 

Your best friends. Your people. Especially in early childhood, having to ‘open yourself up’ and your friendship up to accepting new people throws you into an internal tantrum.

Still now, you might find that you better with one-on-one approaches to ‘getting close/to know people’ than large group settings. If you’re truly going to have a personal opinion on someone, you have to see them outside the context of a barrier– your mutual friends.

Your own chemistry with other people (one-on-one) matters a lot, because it lets you know how you’re doing. Who you are, what your flaws are and whether you have a different ‘side’ to you that comes out when you’re with them as well.

The thing about you is– you’re inherently honest. To the point where you can’t hide it or stifle it, even if you try your body/mind will scream at you for even attempting to do so. You’re a slave to your own honesty, but it’s also your advantage and your disadvantage.

You have immense capabilities to be understanding to others, and to help others who trust you because of this honesty. 

And because you hold yourself valuable for your integrity to people (heart-to-heart, one-on-one) you don’t ever let yourself consciously try to bring them down or let them have a reason to doubt you otherwise.

Even thinking about how people could misinterpret your actions as something with ulterior motive (threaten to discredit your integrity) you take pre-cautions to make sure everyone is on the same page, everyone understands where it’s coming from.

You don’t leave a stone unturned when you do something, you want to do your best but that also requires preparation works. Ground works, for you to focus on just diving into it later. You don’t deter from it at all, and meticulously prepare the ‘grounds’ for yourself every time.

Your humbleness comes from your core. But since you’re so focused on working/preparing and your side of the story all the time. You have a harder time ‘switching’ gears to being on the receiving end of things.

You’d have learnt earlier on in your life that you can usually have an ‘automated’ response to things/circumstances that requires responses. But you don’t ever want to appear insincere or disingenuine so you try your best to put yourself 100% in giving people sincerity at all times.

You’ll learn– that this tends to wear you out. And you require time away from people in your own space. You might like to bury yourself under 10 blankets, give yourself a good scrub in the bathroom or get tucked away in a corner doing your own thing. Personal comfort is rejuvenating to you, but you can let it get too far and make a bad habit of not going out because of it too.

You’re a homebody but you may pride yourself in the opposite. You bring attention and light to when you go out, what you did with people, what you saw today. Watch that you aren’t doing this to subconsciously ‘persuade’ yourself that you deserve to relax at home because you’ve ‘earned it’ (going out becomes an ‘achievement’, which in itself isn’t terrible but you tend to let yourself get comfortable/have a pattern that may be harder to break out of– and that generally leads to a sense of dread for you later on when you want to ‘switch gears’ to something else)

You’re a creature of habit, so try to make a journal or ‘check list’ for things whenever it appears (like ‘you have a meeting at 3pm, this has to get done by thursday, do groceries on this specific day because otherwise you won’t have time – use it like you have a secretary). 

Whenever you need to check, you have the journal to remind you of ‘obligations’ you have to work through.

If you don’t, you can let your days get past you or forget about things you have to do.   

Grocery shopping, especially when you have time to journey alone (and not talk to anyone)– is less of a chore and more like a place where you can enjoy self-care without feeling unproductive about yourself.

If you ever feel like you’re having a bad day, go grocery shopping. Splurge on some meats and make yourself a steak. If you’re a vegetarian, try looking for new things to try in these moment of vulnerabilities.

Also, don’t be afraid to buy dolls. Especially the big ones that are like 9′ tall and towers over you. You’re going to enjoy having a new seating space for yourself. Lie on it’s stomach, play on your laptop. 

You’ll do better with a cuddle buddy who doesn’t have their own needs (inanimate) when your partner/friends are less free to spend time with you. 

Don’t be afraid to initiate physical contact, if you want someone to kiss your checks. Ask to kiss theirs. Show them– through demonstration and response – how to physically care for you the way you might want/need it to.

You can be disgustingly cute with people even when you’re not in a romantic relationship with them, mostly because you think everyone deserves to feel loved even without it being romantic. Everyone deserves to feel cared for, adored and not less than a romantic partner.

There’s no shame in craving intimacy, from friends or from lovers. You know it’s different because your ‘shades’ with romantic partners are a lot more intense/directed. But that doesn’t mean you put your love for your friends second to your lovers.

Let yourself get giggly and bubbly, feel loved and adored. Let yourself open up about past experiences, situations you need help with. Let yourself admit to your friends/people around you how you feel, so that they can support you when you can’t support yourself.

That’s all I have for now 💕 This one is quite long mostly because I was thinking about it too much 💕 I hope it’s applicable to you ;; 💕💕