#they were so intense and creative and i met so much people

[enfinizatics]

god i hate capitalism sm, i hate the system, i hate how the university works over here. until one year ago, i used to be so artistically active, i was an amateur actress, i took pictures with my dslr everyday bc i carried it everywhere, i watched plays at my favorite theatre, i organized protests, i participated in protests, i was volunteering every weekend and reading sm books. and now i feel so fucking tired everyday that when i get back home from work or the university, i just lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling or doom scroll and god, i just wish i could have time to go back to doing all of those things i truly enjoy instead of crying about how much i hate my university and working until 9pm everyday.

[archiveikemen]

"Come Play With Us, Miss Fairytale Keeper" Story Event: Chapter 2

Alfons Sylvatica VS Ring Schwartz

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Alfons: Kate, say “ahh”.

Kate: Mm… this grape is delicious!

Ring: … What’s this you’ve been doing since just now? 

Alfons: It’s necessary to blend in if we want to gather information on our target.

Alfons: For that, I’m playing the role of a lovesick man trying to seduce Kate. 

Ring: Aren’t you just feeding her grapes?

Alfons: My, my… you won’t be saying that for long. 

Alfons: My fingers are dirty now… you’ll clean them for me, right, Kate? 

Kate: eh… 

The instant I parted my lips and let out a small confused sound, Alfons pushed his fingers into my mouth.

He moved his fingers in and out, tracing my tongue and rubbing the roof of my mouth. 

Kate: Nn…a… mmph…!

Alfons: Yes, yes, just like that… you’re so cute, sucking and licking so eagerly. 

Alfons: … Makes me want to put something other than my fingers into that little mouth of yours and make you moan. 

Kate: Nn~~!

Alfons: Even if you resist, right now you’ll only sound like you’re making erotic noises. Fufu… 

Alfons: You see, you’ll look suspicious if you resist too much. 

Alfons: Ah, ah, you’re making such a pleased face… really, you can’t do this without me. 

Being forced to lick his fingers and having my mouth messed with made it slightly hard to breathe.

And yet… I was frustrated at myself for feeling a little bit of pleasure from it. 

Alfons: Thank you for showing me that lewd expression. 

Alfons let out a delighted laugh before pulling his fingers out of my mouth.

Kate: Please don’t do such weird things all of a sudden!

Alfons: I couldn't help it. I’m just a pitiful man approaching you desperately for your love. 

Alfons: Besides, you enjoyed it, didn’t you? 

Kate: T-that’s… 

Seeing that I couldn't deny it, Alfons smiled with satisfaction.

Alfons: Next is Ring’s turn.

Ring: … I know.

Ring nodded with a solemn look on his face and looked at me—  

Kate: Mmph…! 

Suddenly, he started vigorously wiping my mouth with his sleeve. 

(Come to think of it, my mouth was all sticky from the grape juice and saliva…) 

Feeling sorry about it, I let him continue; but I then realised how close we were.

Ring: Mm… a little more…

Whenever our eyes met, he would usually awkwardly avert his gaze or glare warily at me.

But right now, his cobalt blue eyes stared straight into mine, the intensity of his gaze taking my breath away.

(If he were to look at someone so earnestly and come this close…)

(I bet many people would fall for him.) 

Ring: That should do it. 

Kate: T-thank you. … Sorry for being so dirty.

Ring; No, you’re not dirty. Not at all.

Ring: Actually… I’m the one who should apologise, for touching you without permission. 

Ring: It’s just, your face after Alfons seduced you… it was too um— 

Kate: …?? 

Alfons: It was too lewd and so you’re worried that other men would see it, isn’t that right? 

Ring: … A-anyway! All that matters is that you can be at ease now. 

(He wiped my mouth to protect me… I’m glad.) 

Alfons: That was a nice move. I’d say Ring will get one point for it. 

Ring: Huh…? … I haven't seduced her, though. 

Alfons: Did you do that naturally? Impressive, as expected from someone with a lot of experience. 

Ring: Ah, yeah… t-this is nothing. 

(... Alfons and Ring are two completely different types of people.) 

Insolent and innocent — time passed as I continued being caught between their different attitudes. 

Alfons: Oh? … One of our targets has arrived.

Following Alfons’ gaze, I spotted a man delightedly helping himself to some light snacks. 

(It’s the same person I saw in the documents. He’s a doctor to the public eye, but secretly involved in trafficking illegal drugs…) 

Ring: … I don’t see his partner nearby. 

Alfons: They might have agreed to only meet right before heading to their room. They’re very cautious. 

Ring: … I’ll go spy on that man.

Alfons: So you’re trying to put a gap between you and I by taking the lead? 

Ring: Of course. I can’t stand watching Kate as you make moves on her. 

Ring: I’ll put an end to this competition quickly. 

Ring left his spot and approached the man. 

Ring: There’s something I want to ask you.

Male Doctor: Hm? If I’m not mistaken… you’re from that trio. Two men competing over one woman, right? Ahh, youth. 

Ring: Yeah. You see… I’m on the verge of losing to my rival. 

Ring: I want to choose the best private room in this mansion to gain an edge over him. 

Ring: You’re a regular here, right? Could you tell me if there’s any room you particularly like to use? 

(He went straight to the point…) 

I got nervous, but the man didn't seem to suspect a thing because of Ring’s confidence.

Male Doctor: I usually let my partner choose a room, so I’m not really sure myself. 

Ring: I see… sorry for taking up your time.

Ring returned to his spot after speaking with our target. 

Ring: … It didn't work. 

Alfons: But you did manage to gain new information. Your straightforward approach was commendable. 

Ring: … What do we do next? We haven't identified his partner.

Alfons: That’s true, however… I’ve already spotted his lady companion. 

Ring: When did you…? 

Partners don’t usually stray too far from each other at parties, but since the people here have illicit relationships, many of them act separately from their partners.

(How did he identify her out of all the women here?) 

Alfons: The reason is simple. The man from a while ago was wearing a bracelet, right?

Ring: … Was he?

Alfons: That bracelet comes from a set. If you connect the two bracelets together, they'll become a necklace.

Kate: Amazing… you even noticed that.

Alfons: I know about it because the beautiful design is highly praised. All thanks to Lord Elbie. 

Alfons: And there’s someone else in this venue wearing the same bracelet.

Ring: …! That lady hiding behind the pillar.

(She really is wearing the same bracelet!) 

Alfons: Let me quickly obtain the information we need.

Alfons left his spot, approached the woman, and… gently touched the nape of her neck. 

He used his curse’s ability to alter the woman’s perception and coaxed the location of the room out of her. 

Alfons: I’m back. Apparently, their room is named “Rose” and located on the second floor. 

Kate: That was amazing, Alfons! 

Alfons: I’m honoured to receive your praise. With that, I gain one point too and become tied with Ring.

Alfons: Now, we’re approaching the final stage of our mission.

Alfons: Kate… between Ring and myself, who will you choose as your lover?

[minkieater]

tide | khj

pairing. rich!hj x f!reader genre. non idol au, toxic relationship, soulmates warnings. substances, consumption, mental health, sexual content minors dni PLS wc. 5.5k

♫ — the broken one, qm ft. jiung “when you said that you wish the two of us could die together, i just pat your head and say i know.”

the best way you’d ever described your relationship is adjacent to a children’s movie, and for that comparison you feel wrong, but nothing else comes close. when alice fell down that hole and her entire world flipped upside down, changing everything she once thought she knew, it was the epitome of years of your life spent with him. you being alice, hongjoong being… everyone else. the mad hatter, cheshire cat, the red queen, white queen, the jabberwocky, the rabbit, he was everyone, all the time, all at once. your life, the riddles, everything but nothing making sense at the same time. there was nothing else you could possibly compare it to, two emotionally adolescent humans in adult bodies. 

neither of you had ever been angry people by nature. in fact, you had always been deemed quite the opposite. hongjoong, older and successful, a man consumed by his work but always made time for the people around him — he shows up for birthdays, impromptu get togethers, graduations, backyard parties… despite his ever growing workload, he always put in the effort to be there. and not just be present, either. he’s always been observant, even in the beginning, showing up when you least expected it. after the longest, hardest day, with flowers and your favorite food in tow, he’s always been a true partner. 

you’re not much different. the parties hongjoong always shows up to typically had you behind the curtain. planning, decorating, even picking up the tab… you’re the epitome of loyalty. devotion, creativity, passion. you’d bettered him as a person, in his work, in his relationships, in his productivity. you love to help and you love to love, you surround yourself with people who give that back to you tenfold in a heartbeat. 

in the beginning, you thrived. you worked together harmoniously, you were patient with each other, compassionate, so stupidly in love…

“would you marry me?” a starless night, on the rooftop of his ever luxurious loft. his hair is black, a cigarette between his lips, his sweet chocolate eyes the brightest light amongst the dark, empty air. 

you knew you had never answered any question with such a quickness as you did that one. you don’t think you’d even muttered the word no to him in the six months you’ve been together. 

he handed you the cigarette he knew you were craving, a habit you picked up from him and him alone. one habit you didn’t share before you’d met. his stare is intense, the gleam in his eyes is bold, it’s saying a million words yet not one leaves his rose colored lips. words you know, words you’ve said, words he hasn’t returned. but he does, he will, eventually. 

“we’re forever then,” it could be a question but it feels more like a statement, an announcement of sorts, a promise that you could never break. you had no choice in the matter, not that you needed one, not that you could imagine a life without him after so little time of knowing him. 

it made you smile through the burn in the back of your throat, a long exhale leaving your lips, gray smoke following suit. in went your solitude, out came the pact you made with him under the moonlight. like the smoke, it faded into thin air, never to be taken back. 

“we became forever six months ago,” you handed the cigarette back to him, your fingers touching for a just a moment in passing. his smile reached his eyes, creases in his skin that you would run your fingers over in the dim light of his bedroom. every inch of him, burned to memory. 

“we became forever the day you were born, doll. just took until six months ago to find me,” the tobacco was between his lips again, wrapped around the circular stick, always glossy. never chapped, never dry, always swollen and sultry. edible. 

time went on, days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. you initially thought hongjoong didn’t have a bad side, eternally a happy and exemplary lover. to be fair, you didn’t think you had one either. there’s a saying for that, right? you bring out the worst in each other? but they’re traits that are embedded in you. when the stars aligned the day you were born, you were gifted them, wrapped in sparkling wine colored paper and you just didn’t get around to opening them until someone fought fire with fire. 

you’d never yelled at a friend, let alone a lover, in your life. he’d never once been angry enough to remove himself from an entire room, have to excuse himself from the woman across from him because her voice took up too much space, smothered him in his own home. the one thing that kept you two linked, from the bedroom with the door locked to the couch all the way out in the living room, was how fucking obsessed with the other you were. 

it was sick, the heaviest sensation the two of you shared. lust, love, adoration, codependency, everything came right under obsession if you could even rank your feelings. most days, everything just blended together, anyways. from the moment your eyes met, really met for the first time, it was cataclysmic, the soul you knew just by his gaze that you shared. the click that linked the two of you for life. 

the air of the club was humid, wet and murky, too many people in too small of a space. you were at a sponsored event for work, dressed too classy for the place you were at, all the bodies around you covered in way less fabric. you were one track minded when it came to work — always looking upward, fighting to climb endless ranks, you could never rest. never break concentration. 

until the biggest distraction stared at you three people down, stood around the curve of the bar while you waited on your cocktail. he moved with a fluidity similar to water, a wave, an ocean as he waltzed into your space. behind you, he slipped his card down over your shoulder onto your tab before you could even reach for the cash in your purse.  

“nice play,” you glanced over your shoulder, greeted with teeth as white as snow, glistening hues of pink and blue from the dance floor cascading over the impressive structure of his face, “thank you.”

“a pretty drink for a pretty girl,” you glance down at the red cherries sitting in your cocktail, a mixture of yellow and orange sitting in your glass, mimicking a sunrise swirling around the cubes of ice.

a laugh escaped you, “i’d rate that pick up line a 7, i suppose.” 

he answers with a shrug, “anything above a 5 is a win for me. hongjoong,” his hand reaches out to shake yours and you’re taken aback, almost shocked at the gesture of a simple handshake around the bar at a more than busy nightclub. it told you more than it should, coming up on years of business under your belt, it seemed more like a proposition than an introduction. 

in that moment you saw him, you saw through him, you saw deep down inside and you couldn’t crawl your way out if you scratched and clawed your nails down to stubs. he was like you, apart of your world, higher up, even. he came from class, he came from money, he came from importance. he’s handsome, he’s gorgeous, and jesus christ he’s going to ruin your fucking life if you let him. you’d let him do anything.

your work event was long forgotten the second the two of you made eye contact, your attendance was the only thing mandatory, anyhow. a night of freedom, letting go of subjugation from your company as you spent ages with your back pressed to his front, bodies moving as one to the beat of whatever song played through the speakers. one melody after another, you don’t know how many songs have passed before you've faced him, hands around his neck, one of his legs between yours.

“you’re beautiful,” he says, noses nearly touching, wanting to curse the millimeter standing between himself and the rest of his life. a moment of pressure from you stood over his knee and he decided he’d never needed something so bad, his stomach growling with a hunger he was saving for a single taste of you. 

“yeah?” your smile turned mischievous, a dangerous game you were playing, he’d strip you down in front of the entire club, fuck you in front of every man in the building. that’s if he could live with himself letting anyone besides him see you like that, which he couldn’t, of course. your outfit left too much to the imagination, tight dress pants and a white top that clung to every inch of you. he needed to know what was underneath. he could imagine, picture you beneath the cotton, he could almost feel the soft plush of your thighs on his fingertips. 

“prove it,” was all you said and it sold him of the only thing he had left. his pride, the thing he savored, he’d usually let anyone else take the reins with him, want him first, so he could drop them without a second thought. you wanted me, i never wanted you. always the predator, never the prey, even under the gaze of his evermore. 

anyone that came before you, the several exes, plethora of playthings, he’d easily forget them, leave them all behind for a night with you. he wouldn’t settle for just a night with you, he won’t take anything less than eternity. your thin, tiny square lenses sitting low on your nose, your hair messily wrapped up on top of your head, lipstick still perfectly applied on your lips, the way you were so meticulously put together… it was a primal urge, the need to ruin it, ruin you, keep you forever, just for himself. 

you weren’t doing far off, core aching for a kiss, a touch, anything to take the edge off. something about sharing a soul meant you could see his and it stood tall and red and rippled in the wind and screamed at you to let him make the first move. he needed to lay his cards on the table, make his blood stained soul turn white, let him give himself to you before you gave yourself to him. you listened, as much as it wounded you, his glossy lips begging you to close the distance, to taste him, to hurry up and move on with eternity because time waits for no one. 

you could see his internal battle, there were several going on in the mere moment that lasted for hours. the battle of your beings, still separated not yet merged, yet still transparent for the other to see. the battle of him with himself, his pride, his masculinity, this routine he’s been performing for the past six years. your battle with him, begging him to give into you, to show you what he’s made of, to show you what color he bleeds. your battle with yourself, your self control to listen to whatever is telling you to let him give in first. you knew he would, he knew he would, it was a waiting game. 

once he said fuck it and he raised his white flag, his soul changed color as his lips tasted yours. one kiss in the middle of a crowded dance floor, overflowed enough that other people’s sweat was mixing with your own, music pumping through your veins, the world had shifted. tectonic plates couldn’t compare, couldn’t move you the way hongjoong did in that very moment. 

this combining, this merging, this tasting of his soul, the atoms that make up his very being, you consumed it all entirely. the good, the bad, the complicated, the opulent, the rough, the agonizing, you could feel all of it in him. you needed more. 

it wasn’t always like that, wasn’t always intoxicating, blinding, all consuming. the obsession was beautiful, addicting, similar to the box of tobacco you now kept in your back pocket. it translated to tenderness, intimacy, warmth, it was one of a kind. one that sparked jealousy from others, one that closed its doors on anyone who dared to peer inside. it was personal, only to be enjoyed by the two of you, never shared. no one on this fucking earth could understand you the way hongjoong could, no one could read your mind, fix what needed to be fixed before it was even broken in the first place. he was a lifeline, a savior, a backbone for you. and you were all the same to him. 

he’d never thought he could love anything the way he loves you. his music, his art, his life, he’d throw everything away if that meant one more second spent with you. you were water to him the way he was air to you, the sun to him the way he was the moon to you. in every single lifetime you know hongjoong has been your missing link, two fucked up pieces that finally finished the puzzle. when put together, everything made sense. you were complete. 

“mm, maybe a half an hour longer?” his smile is sheepish, almost embarrassed to say the same answer he’d given you thirty minutes prior. 

a knowing smile grows on your face, how could you be mad at him? your hard working boyfriend, forever sitting behind a screen, making deadlines meet. when he said half an hour, he meant two hours. when he said twenty minutes, he meant an hour. his language is exclusive to only him, it takes someone who really knows him, really understands him for his dialect to be construed.  

you went to bed, surrounded by white walls with monochromatic paintings that didn’t have any real meaning. the room was big, too big to be comforting. too empty to be lived in, especially without him beside you. it’s how the whole loft felt: picturesque, a movie set, a bed, bathroom and kitchen without being a home. you could have a photoshoot here anytime with the natural light pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows, but could you raise a family? could you settle here, in this city?

you kept your eyes closed, searching for sleep that didn’t want to be found. pulling the comforter over you, you nuzzled in, cocooned yourself into the mongolian cashmere that threatened you with its heat. 

“going to sleep this early? that’s no fun,” you heard his voice before the patter of his familiar footsteps, a rhythm you’d memorized months ago. he climbs into the california king, searching for you, finding you, kissing you. “what’s got you wrapped up like this? missed me?” 

you nodded, bottom lip jutting out, feeling so small even with him here, this huge bed engulfing you. you needed his heat, his touch, his skin on yours, you wanted comfort. 

“my girl,” he cooed, fingers running through your hair, messily sprawled across the silk pillowcase, “i missed you too.” 

kisses that were peppered along your jaw turned heated before you could notice his mood had changed. as his tongue licked up the base of your neck you whined, pressing yourself into him, mindlessly begging for more. 

“needy girl,” he teased as he pulled the blankets off of you, mongolian cashmere be damned. you wore one of his shirts, oversized enough to be a dress. he pushed it up past your stomach, pleasantly surprised with the lack of anything underneath. 

“ah, my needy girl is clever, hm? planned this, did you?” his smirk stretched across his face, eyes deepening to the richest, darkest brown, reflecting the ecuadorian chocolates he bought you months ago, a gift on a random thursday. 

“and what if i did?” you’d been pleading for him to come to bed for ages, begging him to fill more space in this empty room. you’d been prepared to try anything, stopped only by his mask of concentration. 

“then you’re in luck,” before you knew it he’d already slipped inside you, your back arching against the texture of the percale sheets beneath you. he’d wrecked you, as he did every time, swapping spit and cum and secrets, exposing skin and feelings and truths. 

every time the sex was this sweet, this melodious, he’d tell you exactly how he felt about you. he’d make you feel it. 

“fuck, i fucking love you,” he was buried to the hilt, holding your face between two cold hands, “could die right here inside you a happy man.” 

you couldn’t do anything but moan, clenching around him, your coming answer enough. 

“want me to fill you up?” he’d asked, thrusts turning rougher, more sporadic, the finish line nearing, “yeah? give you my kids? make you a mommy?” 

you locked your ankles behind his back, this wasn’t the first time you’d done this. an iud sat inside you, still working perfectly fine, his proposal wouldn’t come to fruition with you like this. you still nod, whimpers leaving your throat, low babbles of begs for him to fill you. 

he always did, always carried you to the bath after, always washed your hair, your body, maybe filled you up once more if you felt like it. 

“do you want to stay here? in this city?” the bath had run lukewarm at this point, but you didn’t want to separate, didn’t want to spend a moment not pressed against one another. 

“for now, i think so, why?” his hand was traveling up and down your arm that hung outside the tub, your head laid against his chest. 

“when we have kids… i don’t know about raising them here,” your voice was small, unsure of where his mind would go with your sudden revelation. 

“we have a long way to go before then,” he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. you stayed quiet, fingertips inaudibly tapping the side of the tub. 

“this been bothering you?” his other hand moves to grip your jaw, a light touch to twist your head, making you look up at him. 

“i wouldn’t say it’s bothering me, but anything can happen, i was just thinking about it,” even the bathroom is too big, too lifeless to be a home. marble tile, his and hers vanities, a detached, massive shower, a bidet on the toilet. you couldn’t picture smaller you’s running around in here. 

“we’re already playing with fire, i guess,” he leans his head back on the tub, “where do you dream of going? if i could build a house from the ground up for you, where? what would it look like?”

like a scene from the notebook, your heart twisted, bursting at the seams with the unbelievable amount of what you felt for him. so you told him, a rancher, a farm, somewhere quiet and peaceful. a house that felt lived in, one appropriate to raise a family, one that wasn’t perfectly dusted and organized all the time. picture frames littering shelves, toys randomly left across the house, clothes on the floor of the bedroom. you wanted normalcy, you wanted warmth, you wanted a family. 

he wanted nothing more than to give you that. within two weeks he’d been in contact with several realtors, purchasing land on the countryside, finding the perfect plot for you two to raise your little family. he’d pictured you in a pair of boots, a tee shirt, an old, big pair of overalls. your stomach swollen, hair messily wrapped up, walking in the barn, feeding the chickens. his heart warmed, and his dick so quickly rose again, twitching behind your back. 

how a love so beautiful, so unique could get so fucked up, you couldn’t understand, not even three years later. you didn’t want to understand, though, and neither did he. you don’t care, neither of you do, because the only thing that matters is that he is still near you. close to you. breathing your air, touching your skin, whispering the most vile shit into your ear, he is here. you needed him closer, needed him so close that you merged into one. it’s never enough, it’ll never be enough, more of him, always more of him, always more of you. 

he felt the same way. your breath on his skin, your saliva drying on his neck, he wanted more. he wanted it messier, he wanted it sloppier. he wanted it to never end. but the two of you will never end because you’re meant for each other, right? there’s no one else on this planet for him, billions of people and he’s found his other half already. she’s under him, she’s breathing, she’s screaming, she’s beautiful. he’s so lucky. 

which is why it makes sense to no one that they don’t see either of you anymore. usually one of you, here and there, never together. never holding hands, never smiling at each other, never touching the other one’s hair, never fixing the other one a plate. never together, but yet rarely apart. as far as everyone knows, you’re still together, they think? you are, you tell them that you are, hongjoong tells them that you are, but poor yeosang can’t understand why he doesn’t see his friends anymore. he misses their smiles, their laughs, their humor, their parties, their love. you miss it too, sometimes. 

the truth is, your shared codependency turned into some warped fucking version of destruction where neither of you can stand to see other next to someone else. at clubs, at bars, at those backyard parties with your friends, god forbid you get too close to san. you swear to that same god if hongjoong spoke three more words to mina he’d be sleeping on the couch for weeks. everyone noticed, everyone could pick up on it easily. the side eye, outright glares across the room, hongjoong’s hand around your wrist like a pair of handcuffs. you couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at your friend’s glances, their eyebrows furrowing in confusion, their questions that sat heavy in thin air without ever being spoken. you were too worried about what hongjoong was thinking. how angry he’d be, what it’d be like when you got home, if he’d even say a word to you the rest of the night. hongjoong was already cooking up his testimony, ready to tell you to stop being fucking insane and our friends are just friends, yet the double standard was always there. you’d use the same arguments against each other, have the same rebuttals. it got you nowhere, there was no resolution, there was just his california king and percale sheets. the cashmere blanket that laid over every argument, tucking it away tightly until the next time you unveiled it. 

as much as your love fucked you up, made your brain not fucking work correctly, you couldn’t bear to think of a day where you’d be apart. couldn’t imagine your future not spent in that rancher on the countryside, children and chickens running amok. 

when he told you his job was relocating him to the states, yet another huge city, you couldn’t breathe. for a full minute you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t answer him, you couldn’t function. your lifeline, your savior, your water, your moon, leaving you. 

“i’ll start looking for a place for us,” he said so casually, too casually, scrolling on his phone, not even looking at you. the breath was sucked from your lungs, you wouldn’t be surprised if your face was blue.

“no, i won’t go,” you murmured out, clearly, unlike the stumbling of words in your mind, hot tears in your eyes and strain on your voice. you sat up in the california king, goosebumps raising on your bare body in the too cold bedroom. 

“huh?” he finally tore his eyes from the screen, “what do you mean no?” 

“i won’t fucking go, joong! you’re asking me to pick up my life and move to another country for your stupid job?” anger flushed through your veins, your voice raised, fire in your eyes. you turned to him in the bed, not even bothering to cover yourself with the sheets. 

“my stupid job? my stupid job that pays for this place? pays the bills?” he sat up too quickly, his eyes were wide and oh boy was he angry, you hit a nerve there. 

“i can pay the bills just as easily as you and you know that, hongjoong,” you bark back, tears close to boiling as they stream down your face, “i can’t leave my life. my career, my stability, my future, what the fuck did you think i was going to say? huh? yeah sure! let’s move out of the country! are you out of your goddamn mind?” 

“your future? what the fuck am i then? just a placeholder for now?” he’s laughing with wide eyes and oh fuck it’s maniacal, ring covered fingers tugging at his white blonde roots. “i fucking knew it. you never planned a real future with me then, did you? all that talk about getting married, having kids, all of it just a fucking lie? a sick little joke to keep me with you, paying the rent? funding your little shopping sprees?” 

“fuck you, hongjoong, you fucking know that’s not true,” you’re sobbing now, his words hitting their mark. you stood up and walked out to the living room, pulling the white, soft blanket with you. 

your dream, your future, your life, crumbling around you. hongjoong was air to you, your moon, controlling the tide that pushed and pulled you closer or farther away from one another. 

you’d never been dependent on anyone before him, never needed a moon to your sun, you shone brightly all by yourself at all times. even now, with him, you could easily survive without him. financially, at least. even in this big, lifeless loft you could support yourself, you were just as successful as he was, after all. but emotionally? actually living a life that he wasn’t involved in? you don’t think you’d survive it. 

you could leave here, move with him, restart your life somewhere else. you wanted to do that, but in the countryside, this situation is completely different. this isn’t a choice. this is someone else making a decision and everyone expecting you to follow suit. what about what you needed? what about your job, that you adore? spent years climbing to where you are, you now have an entire team working under you. what about that team? your coworkers? your family, living close by? your friends, oh god your friends, ones you haven’t seen in an embarrassing amount of time… only months past twenty six, you could technically restart if you needed to. you just don’t want to. you needed hongjoong to not want to, either. 

a moment barely passed before he’s beside you on the couch, tears pouring down your cheeks, face buried in the crook of his neck. he’s rubbing your back, kissing your head, whispering sweet nothings that’d always calm you when you broke down like this. he knows how to fix you, always stitching back together what he tore apart.

two months later, and you didn’t end up on that plane beside him. he had you really convinced, though, in the same way you convinced yourself: you’d leave your job, find one similar to yours in LA, climb the ranks, and be as successful as you are here, but there. you’d be just as devoted, passionate, happy. 

ultimately, he thought he knew best, like he always does. he thinks he knows you better than you know yourself, sometimes. he knows you love your job, love your team, your coworkers, you love your position. you spent ages crawling your way up there. you love your friends, your family, you couldn’t leave them behind and still be happy. you’re a loyal woman in every aspect of your life, with your lover, your friends, your career. every small string is attached to what makes you, you. he knows you’d never be as happy as you are in this city, but he also knows you’d never let him go without you. so he left without a goodbye, without a parting gift, a farewell kiss, a last departing whisper of an i love you. 

he left you alone, broken, empty. 

a shell of who you once were. 

what he didn’t take into consideration is that you love him more than anything, anyone. you were inconsolable. your friends didn’t know what to do with you. they wondered why you weren’t at hongjoong’s going away party, why they haven’t heard from you, they didn’t know everything he did was in secret. how word didn’t get passed around to you, you didn’t know, you were still furious about it. they didn’t know how to help you, they couldn’t even start to make sense of why your boyfriend of years would leave you without a second word. neither could you. they couldn’t wrap their minds around how you didn’t know he was leaving. neither could you. 

that one long day you spent at work, coming home to a cold, massive, empty fucking apartment. not a trace of him, not one small sign that he ever lived there in the first place. he took all his clothes with him, all of his equipment for work, even his little trinkets… all gone. disappeared into thin air. how could you not fucking know? 

you took almost a week off from work. something you rarely did, you felt like you couldn’t catch up, couldn’t manage your insanely busy schedule if you did take some personal time. but this was different. it wasn’t a week spent relaxing somewhere warm, it wasn’t a vacation, it wasn’t happy at all. you thought you felt your world crumble around you when he first broke the news, this was the real thing. this was the past three years of your life that had been devoted to one singe person, the person that mattered most, the person that you’d cross oceans and go to war for and he plucked himself directly from your life. 

mina, yuna, yeosang, mingi… they were at your apartment around the fucking clock. they didn’t leave you alone, it was suffocating. you hadn’t left your bed for days, you weren’t eating, you weren’t drinking, you were too busy staring at the space above your dresser where a picture of the two of you once lived. 

he didn’t call. in the year you spent apart, while you built yourself again piece by piece, rewiring your very brain chemistry, he didn’t call you. he blocked your number, blocked your social medias, blocked your family. you went through every outlet at first, every friend you shared, trying again and again, begging for just a conversation with him. never once did you get through, never once did you hear how he was, how the states are different from here, how he’s been eating, who he’s been with… god, who has he been with? he’s yours, no one else’s.

you lost weight, you lost sleep, you lost your drive, you lost yourself, fifty percent of you. your soul was somewhere so far you couldn’t feel it, couldn’t access it, in an entirely different fucking country, tens of thousands of miles away from you. bottles of liquor now sat in your pantry, cartons of cigarettes sprawled across the kitchen table, every hour of your free time spent in solitude, months upon months of you driving yourself mad. 

you thought your bedroom felt empty before, unwelcoming, frigid, dispiriting, you couldn’t imagine being there without him, yet now you couldn’t bring yourself to go elsewhere. you took it for granted, having him here, you felt guilty for even thinking that you’d be happier somewhere else when you had the only thing you’ve ever needed in your possession. 

but a year later, he stood on your doorstep, a doorstep you once shared. a doorstep that has seen you pressed up against the frame with his hand inside your skirt, a doorstep that’s listened to your meaningless arguments on your way home from an event, a doorstep that’s watched as you bid visitors goodbye. he’s there, he’s breathing, he’s living, he’s close to you. not close enough. 

the earth had turned gray, the sunniest of days couldn’t make the city look saturated in the year you spent apart. all the usual too loud noise had turned to whispers, all the business couldn’t inflict an ounce of motivation in you. within seconds of seeing his face everything was colorful, the city had sound again, it was if someone flicked a switch sewn into your back. 

“you’re a real piece of shit,” you bark out, opting to shut the door in his face. his foot slides between the door and the frame, his hand lurching forward to hold it open. 

“i’m here,” is all he says, and you pause, looking up to him. he is here, and he’s real, and you can’t stop the tears from forming. 

hi friends! first post of my work on here <3 i have not posted any of my writing since i was probably 16... pls be nice to me

massive shoutout to @chimivx, thank you for getting me back into it and giving me the courage to post :,) love u forever

anyways i love hongjoong hope u enjoyed xoxo

love, t ｡ ★ • *

[villainscharm]

stalled | modern! aemond targaryen x reader

pov : you’re stuck in the elevator at the office with aemond aka your boss who you never talked to.

words count : 1.3k

contents : fluff (?) i don’t feel like there is any romance going on here, maybe the beginning of something ig??? but this is just a short sooooo

modern au. targaryen company theme plot. aemond is your boss but he never speak to you because he’s a dick.

MASTERLIST

He was terrifying — Aemond Targaryen was inevitably terrifying.

His presence, his demeanor, the atmosphere in the room shifted every time he entered.

And now you were stuck with him in this forsaken elevator.

It was a normal morning, you came to your work, scanned your finger and was sent to your task of the day. You’ve been working at the Targaryen company for six months now after graduating from the university, in the creative marketing team. Your work had been fine with many friendly and supportive colleagues in your department, including the CEO’s second daughter, Helaena Targaryen, as well.

Today one of your colleagues who took a sick leave called you and asked for a favor about paperwork. She already finished them but due to her stomach issues, she couldn’t come in to submit her work in time, so she emailed you the file to print and submit for her instead, which you kindly helped out. It was a report on the latest month's sale, so you were supposed to submit them at the office six floors above yours, the 22nd floor. Carrying the documents, you stood in the elevator, listening to the light music playing in the background and mindfully counting the pages in your hands for accuracy.

The gentle ding sound of the elevator alerted you to look up — nineteenth floor — before the door opened, you stepped aside making rooms for the person who was coming in. And then the air got cold.

The door opened, presenting the tall silver-haired man as he entered — Aemond Targaryen, the fourth child of the CEO Viserys Targaryen and his second wife, Alicent Hightower, who worked in human resources.

He was your director in creative marketing.

Also a dickhead.

“Mister Targaryen,” you greeted politely with a smile, which he ignored. You were tempted not to pull out your phone and complain about it to your secret social media account— not that you haven’t done it before. You took a quick glance at him, he was on his phone with his one-eye facing to your side, easier for you to study him closely for the first time. You met Aemond only a couple of times, first was at your job interview, he didn’t interview you though, only popping in to chat with his mother in the room. Miss Alicent tried to introduce you to him but he paid no mind and left, leaving you feeling awkward and self-conscious. The second time was in the meeting of the upcoming project, he was present but didn’t talk to anyone, well, if you count saying ‘hmm’ and ‘no’ as talking then it was.

Aemond was only a few years older than you, but you swore he acted like a forty year old man at work. The way he spoke, the way he sat — no wonder everyone feared him more than his older brother Aegon. Out of everyone in this family, Aemond seemed to be absent most times. His sister, Helaena once told you that he preferred working from home than being in the office. ‘He doesn’t like people very much. What’s it called again, antisocial?’

Sociopath, more like.

But when he was present, he often wore a casual outfit instead of suit and uniform, with an eyepatch covering his one-eye, of course. It was a known lore of how Aemond lost his eye, an accident during a family vacation, news spread all over the media.

Though missing one eye, Aemond remained devilishly handsome.

You inhaled, only three floors to go. Your eyes glued to the tiny monitor showing the number of each floor as it went on, as if staring at it intensely would help the elevator move faster.

19

20

21

and… THUD!

“Shit!” you cursed as the elevator suddenly stopped in its place, making your body lose its balance and stumble backward, almost hitting the wall. You look at the tiny monitor, it stopped at 21, but your guts told you that they were in between 22 as well.

You glanced at Aemond, who seemed to be startled as well, but remained calmly anyway. Hugging your documents tightly to your chest, your finger reached forward to press the button to open the door but nothing happened.

You pressed them again, and again still nothing.

“It’s not gonna open,” it was Aemond who spoke first, his voice was stern and calm, way too calm that it was making you panic, it was also the first time you heard him speak. You looked at him confused before he flipped his phone to your sight. You squinted your eyes looking at the screen, it was a message from the security service, informing them of the issue coming from the control panel, causing the elevator to stalled.

You sighed, leaning your back against the wall, thankfully the light didn’t go off, that would be a nightmare. “How long is it gonna be like this?” you asked, taking a quick glance at the watch on your wrist. Aemond hummed before replied, “Uncertain, should be some time. Hopefully not too long.”

You didn’t try to hide the eye roll as you groaned, at this point you shouldn’t care. Aemond then reached his hand forward, pressing the emergency button to alarm the people in the control room. The air was thick and filled with awkwardness, until Aemond broke the silence again.

“You look stressed,” he remarked. Of course you were stressed, your colleague asked you to help her out and now you were stuck in the elevator submitting her work late. “I have documents to submit in time. Obviously not gonna happen,” you replied, avoiding his eye contact.

“Applications?” he guessed, eyeing the documents in her hands. You turned your head to him instantly, blinking in disbelief, but when you realized how rude it must’ve looked, you played it out with a forced chuckle.

“I've been here for six months,” offense hid in your tone, your brows knitting together. Purposely leaving the part where you were supposed to address him as Mister Targaryen or sir.

Aemond hummed, “Receptionist?” wrong answer bastard.

“Creative marketing, your department,” What a dick. Forcing a smile, your blunt answer with the emphasis on the word ‘your’ made him raise an eyebrow in response. “Sir,” you finished, a poor attempt.

“But that’s the sales report,” Aemond noticed, he could see the heading of the documents in your arms clearly as he stood tall next to you. Though not too close, you could still smell his expensive cologne. Yves Saint Laurent — you guessed, he didn’t seem like a Calvin Klein type of guy, maybe Dior Sauvage? but who wasn’t a Dior Sauvage type of guy anyway.

“Floris took a sick leave. I’m just helping her out,” you offered him a softer tone this time, trying to gain some appreciation from him. But to your disappointment, the bastard hummed.

“I also work with Helaena, your sister. She’s excellent,” you tried to break the awkwardness, nothing a little small talk couldn’t fix. “Yes, she is,” not even a small talk could fix him, you couldn’t wait to get out of here. But to your surprise, Aemond added, “She mentioned you before. You came up with the campaign for the last month project,” it wasn’t a question but a fact, because Aemond knew. His tone was softer and approved. You thought he had no idea you existed but apparently you were wrong.

“Yes, I’m glad it helped to increase the sales,” you suppressed your smile, feeling proud and appreciated from the way Aemond addressed you. He hummed again, this time instead of infuriated, you felt your cheeks burned.

You two spent the next ten minutes standing in the elevator in silence before it eventually moved again, finally stopping at the 22nd floor. You sighed with relief because you were certain you would get claustrophobic if stood in there any longer. You stepped out finally, but before the elevator door closed, you heard Aemond called out your name from behind.

“I’ll see you later at the office.”

[hannahssimblr]

Beginning // Prev // Next

Hi Evie! 

God, I’m so sorry it’s been so long. Life is chaotic. I’m doing stuff all the time and I really haven’t had a minute. 

College is great. It’s intense. It’s so different to what I expected, although now that I’m saying it, I’m not sure what I expected at all. I’m not sure that I really thought about what it was going to be like. 

There’s art, obviously, a lot of it, and all of the time. We have drawing classes and painting classes, classes about composition, sculpture, art history and theory, and other stuff too that I can’t even recall off the top of my head. We were on a trip last week, out across the city drawing buildings and things like that, and it’s given me this new appreciation for how interesting Berlin really is. I’m learning about all of this history, and then recording it on the page by drawing it. I can’t really overstate how amazing it is to be surrounded by so many people who love art the same way that I do, and I’m thinking about you when I’m living my life like this, about how much you’re going to love it when you’re finally free from Tullamore, and you can go to art college. You’re going to have the best years of your life, so don’t worry about all that’s going on at school right now, and with Kelly and whatever. Things are going to get so much better. 

I go out a lot these days. Drinking, yes, but it’s not really like the way that we used to party and drink in Dublin at all. It’s so much more vibrant and fun, and there are all of these amazing bars and clubs with different themes. I got out with my friends like, three or four times a week, and sometimes I don’t even drink, I just dance, and that’s enough. I meet plenty of interesting people when I’m out, too. There’s always someone new to get to know. 

We did go to this club last week, though, it’s famous. Berghain. Jonas and some of the others like techno, which I’m not sure about yet, and sometimes they go there to dance. It’s open a few days a week, and you can go literally any time of the day, which is crazy. I mean, you can go in at seven in the morning if you want to, and you can get lost in there for three days. Jonas told me all these stories about the kinds of things you can do and… I don’t know if I want to repeat it. I honestly feel like you wouldn’t want to know. 

I mentioned we went, but really, they went. As in, some of our friends. Not me. Apparently, the bouncers are really strict about who goes inside. Jonas explained something about needing to have the right “vibe”, which sounds insane, but anyway. I have the wrong “vibe”, because the bouncers saw me and my friend Elias in the queue and they yelled “No!” at us from, like, a twenty metre distance, haha. It’s fine. We went to another club instead, and we had fun and met some more cool people, so I can’t complain. 

I also can’t say I’m not curious about what it’s like to get into Berghain… Maybe one day. If I do, you’ll be the first to know, and I’ll share all the crazy details when I’ve experienced it. I think the day I get in is the day I can say I’m a real Berliner. 

It’s Halloween soon, and I’ve recently learned that they don’t celebrate it here. Can you believe it? I hope you’ll be doing something fun, at least, to make up for my loss. Send me a picture of your costume if you are! I have a feeling you’ll come up with something dead creative, because you’re good with your hands. I think I remember seeing a picture of you dressed as a bee on your Facebook? Am I mixing you up with someone else? I don’t think so. It was so cool. 

Shane is coming to visit next weekend. Did he tell you that? It’s half term, or reading week, or whatever they call it now. I would have mentioned it to you before, but he’s coming with some college friends on a boys trip. I didn’t think you’d be up for coming. I think they’ve booked this dingy hostel somewhere, and I just can’t imagine it being your thing. Especially with you still being seventeen and all of that, it’s like, you wouldn’t be allowed in to any of the clubs and bars. You should come in the spring, though! That’d be fun. Maybe if you wanted to plan a trip for your 18th?

I feel like I just spewed a load of information on you there, sorry. I should have emailed you earlier, but I’ve had this project due, and when I’m not socialising I’m working on it.

Hope you’re taking care of yourself!

Jude x

[seramilla]

Okay so I’m on a SeraMilla binge rn. And it is mixing with my hyper fixation of Vaggie. So I know you do a lot with them but could you imagine. Sera being sort of mother figure to Vaggie while in heaven. In a way that Sera is a mother figure to all of the exorcists being aside from Adam she is the only one who knows about them.

So Vaggie grows up with an absent mother in Heaven that checks in with her every few years. And then goes to hell to then forge a mother daughter bond with Carmilla. Though this is still in the beginning stages.

So one day Vaggie comes over with another training session and sees her absent mother and new mother being a little to friendly with each other and just has to sit there with this information.

Idk how the interaction would end so I’ll leave that to your creativity.

A Seramilla binge with a Vaggie binge is a combination of the best binges to be in, hehehehe. Let me see if I can help...

Growing up among the Exorcists had been a lonely existence for Vaggie. Even with all of her other "sisters" around her, and the forced sense of camaraderie Adam imposed upon them every day, Vaggie never really felt that she...fit in with the other soldiers. She was great at what she did; fantastic, even. She had some of the highest kill counts among anyone in her squad.

But everything about it was so cold. Unrelenting. Unfulfilling. It was seeing the same faces day in and day out, having her body pushed around and shoved face-first into the dirt during their training drills, and eating the same boring, unchanging meals on the same schedule every week. She hated Taco Tuesday. Before she even met Charlie, she almost wished she'd never have to see another fucking taco for the rest of her immortal life. That slop in the cafeteria could barely be called food, let alone meat!

The only respite Vaggie got from the monotony was when the Seraphim came to visit. Every year or so, High Seraphim Sera and her sister Emily would stop by to make sure the Exorcists were being cared for. Vaggie liked Emily. The other girl was easy to talk to, and Vaggie warmed up to her much quicker than her sisters ever did.

Emily's sister, Sera, while a little more aloof and standoffish than the younger Seraphim, was kind once she got to know her. None of the other Exorcists ever bothered to do so...so Sera would sit and talk with her, and ask her how she was feeling. Vaggie can't even remember if anyone had ever asked her that before. Certainly not Lute. Certainly not Adam.

Maybe it's because Vaggie has always been a little smaller than most Exorcists. Nothing can help that. It's how she was made. But when Sera showed an interest in her, and returned every year to catch up with her, gauge how the Exterminations were going, and ask if she was getting enough to eat, it was almost like a reunion with an absent parent. Just asking the barest of questions, but enough to make Vaggie feel that at least someone cared about her. Even if only marginally.

After Vaggie fell, Charlie had kind of taken up that roll in her life. Not to say that Charlie behaves like a mom; she is very maternal in the way she fusses over people, but she does that with everyone, not just Vaggie. It took Vaggie a while to get used to her girlfriend's...intense feelings for basically everyone she ever meets. But that's just Charlie. She cares so much. And that's what Vaggie loves most about her.

And then Vaggie had met Carmilla. Now that had been an interesting turn of events. Carmilla Carmine reminded her of a taller, older version of every other Exorcist she'd ever met in her squad. She's got the same ramrod posture, the same eyes that could kill a person with just a glare, and that same stubborn will to protect those she cares about, like Vaggie possesses. She's also taken a particular interest in Vaggie lately. Like something shifted in the overlord's perception of her after that first "training" session. That first one had led to more, and more training led to Carmilla opening up a bit.

There had been something very...familiar about Carmilla in the beginning. Vaggie had chalked it up to her battling her sister Exorcists down here for so long, that she's just become Hell's resident angel expert. But boooooy, had Vaggie known the actual source of Carmilla Carmine's angelic knowledge, she might have been more prepared for the absolute spectacle that was about to play out right in front of her.

It's just a day like any other. Carmilla has gotten used to Vaggie just popping in when things are slow at the hotel, so Vaggie hadn't seen the need to call ahead. It's the end of the week, so Odette and Clara are likely out in the warehouses getting ready for weekend shipments. Those two work their asses off, and honestly, she kind of admires them for it. It reminds her of Charlie.

Carmilla can usually be found in her office on Friday afternoons, so that's exactly where Vaggie goes. The path to the office is now so familiar, she doesn't even need to ask directions anymore. She makes her way there on her own. When she faces the door, she knocks lightly to be polite. When Carmilla doesn't answer, she knocks again. Still no response.

Wondering if Carmilla is just having trouble hearing her, Vaggie lets herself in, because she's done it before. That's probably her first mistake. Familiarity breeds complacency, and that's a trap she vows to never fall into again. Not after what she sees in that office.

Carmilla is seated at her big executive desk in her big executive office chair, right where Vaggie had expected her to be. What Vaggie hadn't expected, however, is the tall (very tall) woman with hair like clouds and wings like fluffy down sucking face with the esteemed Carmilla Carmine. The woman is practically sitting in Carmilla's lap, and the two of them are necking like teenagers hiding under the bleachers after school. Vaggie is standing there, with the door open, gawking at the two women because she's simply too stunned to move.

That had been her second mistake, and the one that ultimately sealed Vaggie's fate.

Carmilla must sense she's being watched, because she looks up, and then immediately pulls away. Once her eyes meet with Vaggie's across the room, she launches the other woman out of her lap, who falls backward onto the desk in surprise, making a little "Oomph!" noise as she makes contact with the hard wooden surface. The woman's not hurt, but she definitely lets Carmilla know exactly how that felt.

"Carmilla!" the woman shouts. "What in the Hell did you do that for?!"

That voice. Vaggie knows that voice. Her brain works like a supercomputer trying to recall old memories, working out where she knows it from...

The barracks in Heaven. The training yard, during the semi-annual Exorcist inspection. Her conversations with Sera, when she'd felt like an actual person for once in her immortal life...

Vaggie's fears are confirmed when the woman stands, reaching her hands around to rub at her wings where they'd gotten squished beneath her when she fell, and then turns to face the door.

Golden eyes first meet the grayish blue of the other woman's, and then Carmilla's red eyes as Vaggie looks between the two of them, back and forth, over and over like her brain is still desperately trying to work out a complicated puzzle.

Except this puzzle isn't that complicated. It's 64 pieces at the absolute fucking most. Child's play.

It's Carmilla, and it's Sera, in Carmilla's office, kissing like love-struck teenagers at Carmilla's desk, as if this is just something that they do on a Friday. Like it's just normal.

"Carmilla?" Vaggie asks, speaking to the arms dealer with so many other questions implied in her voice. "Sera?"

The former Exorcist's vocabulary has been stunted to only a first-name basis. Vaggie pleads with them in name alone. The anguish with which she says their names...and all the confusion and frustration she feels at seeing her former, and current, mentor together, like this...without her knowing...

Both older women realize exactly what must be transpiring in Vaggie's mind at that moment. Carmilla stands, and starts moving toward the door, perhaps to try and explain herself, or justify whatever Vaggie saw before she gets the wrong idea...

"Vaggie," Carmilla pleads. "I can explain."

Vaggie doesn't know why she runs. It's the exact opposite thing that she should do, if she actually wants answers. Which she does. But it's almost like instinct. Nothing in front of her own eyes makes sense anymore. And when the sense is lacking, all Vaggie can do in the moment is escape.

She hears Carmilla, and then Sera, both calling after her. It isn't her choice to run, but her body forces her, like it has a will of its own, with so many of her other problems.

The last thing Vaggie hears as she practically leaps to the bottom of the staircase is Sera's voice shouting. "Vaggie, please stop!" are the last words her ears can catch, before she's out the front door and running down the street. Forgetting for a moment that she even has wings, she bolts back to the Hotel, and the safety of Charlie's arms, like the little pathetic coward that she is.

This was getting long. Let me know if you want more.

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Beaver Moon in Gemini ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

(I’m ultra-sorry for this PAC being ultra-late!! I’ve been in deep, intense spiritual rehab🙏🏻Also, y’all have NO idea how much psychotic psychic ‘opposition’ I was fighting to get through with this PAC! It was plain insanity at this point. If you’ve found this PAC and you resonate, please, PLEASE, take care of your spiritual wellbeing and amp up your psychic protection for next year!)

☆♪°・.

Collectively speaking, the whole of Mankind is being prepared for a massive transformation that, hopefully, will lead to real, lasting harmony and prosperity. It is high time Mankind grew up and learnt to be responsible for the choices it makes in regards to co-Creation with the Universe. Where attention goes, aenergy goes, right?

Every man’s priority and perspective hold the power to shape—and reshape—Reality. For realz. For we are all part of that same fabric of Reality, we are constantly, with each other, co-Creating various spectrum of experiences that affect each other’s wellbeing. It’s inevitable. Your attention is what gives power to the Matrix. If you want to beat the System, you need to learn its mechanism and ultimately, stop giving your attention to Reality creation that doesn’t serve the highest good of all of Mankind.

Full Beaver Moon was on November 27. Its effects can still be felt by most peeps until at least April Fool’s next year (funny). This full moon is second to last before this year’s final Full Cold Moon on December 26, which will be in Cancer; and so the meaning of this Beaver Moon is for us to gather as much resource as possible before the cold winter.

For this Beaver Moon is in Gemini—the sign of thinking and learning—this implies gathering info, perspective, knowledge, intel as much as possible for us to study and digest all throughout winter. Sounds funny but trust me this will be SO relevant by spring next year. The aenergy I’m tapping into is super intense as the whole of Mankind is being ushered into a phase of rapid growing pains that will affect societies on a global scale.

Death of an old paradigm. Death of the 3D Self. It’s all happening. If you identify as a Lightworker or a Starseed, the message you find here could potentially be more relevant to you than most other peeps you know in your circle. You’re in gestation mode. Get ready because spring might be…weird?

It’s high time Mankind learnt to be responsible for its real power of co-Creation. Those who are more spiritually attuned have always had a craving for a freer, more authentic existence. Use this time to rest your heart, your mind, your soul, and let your Higher Self show you the way towards new avenues and grounds for things and pursuits you’ve always felt a calling to.

Even your weirdest hobbies and interests are no coincidence, hon. 2024 will probably not allow anyone to have a stagnant time—for better or worse… But you? You’re going to have a blast! I just know it🥂

[Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Spread Your Wings and Fly Away

resource – 3 of Pentacles

I hope you acknowledge just how resourceful you are as a person. On top of that, you’re naturally courageous. If you feel like you’re not that brave, it must’ve been your environment and the people you’ve met that have dimmed that fire in you. It is now time to reclaim your authentic voice. And you need to begin with acknowledging just how much your environment is stifling your creativity and/or originality. It is only by understanding the patterns that have shaped the way you view yourself can you then unravel that false perception that, you could say, was imposed on you.

Don’t kill your inner child to please the adults around you—no matter who these adults may be (they could be your peers if you’re already an adult yourself). When you were born into this world you carried seeds of courage, creativity and invention. All of these are such precious gifts for Mankind. You were supposed to develop yourself as one of the new builders of New Earth. You may have forgotten the minute details of your blueprint, but I know that you know it in your heart of hearts that this is the truth of your reason for being born :D

recollection – XVII The Star

You’re literally the only Pile that’s gotten a Major Arcana. Surely you know you’re a Starseed? :D If you don’t, you soon will. Perhaps your parents know something about the ‘waves of volunteers’ that was quite a topic back in the 60s or 70s? (I’m not duper sure about the timeline lol) At any rate, you have a great destiny ahead of you and it is imperative that you acknowledge this of yourself first before you’re launched into initiation*. What’s that about, you ask?

Many of your latent talents that may still be offline right now will gradually be uncovered for you. Throughout 2024, I’m sure you will experience many awakenings of sort that will propel you into remembering bits and pieces of talents you had acquired in other lifetimes. All of these gifts, are your gifts to Humanity. There is a divine reason why you’ve had to work so hard for your own personal transformation before you could assist others in helping themselves transform their paradigm. OK?

respite – 10 of Cups Rx

It is rather common for Starseeds to feel like the family they were born into, isn’t the family they belong to. Many Starseeds even find themselves look quite visibly physically different from the rest of their family. There’s just something there that seems to act as a bridge between your entire existence and theirs. You don’t think the same way; your moralities totally clash; the essences of your values are worlds apart; and so on. You’re right, these people aren’t the people you’re meant to call ‘family’. Their only purpose is to show you how ‘crazy’ develops in people, all for you to learn to navigate it and put an end to generational curses on Planet Earth. And thus it begins at ‘home’.

I have a feeling that for many of you reading this, there is an elder in your family—a much older elder—whom you could actually talk to, who would be able to share information about circumstances surrounding your birth or the bloodline you are born into. In another scenario, this person may not be older but simply possesses immense knowledge pertaining to your raison d’etre or even Life Purpose. In yet another scenario, it may not necessarily be a family member but rather, a teacher, a divine someone you meet serendipitously, or some random-ass wise Boomer you watch on YouTube who holds ideas and perspectives that make you feel seen and validated.

The period from this Full Beaver Moon until at least April next year may involve a lot of healthy grieving. Let yourself feel those emotions and feel Human. You deserve a safe space to be yourself and see all your dreams manifest. You’ve got this, OK? One day you will be serving the Light by sharing your stories😊

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

*I’ve included further technical interpretations of what this ‘initiation’ means for Lightworkers and Starseeds in the bonus content🐛

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Where Have You Come From and Where Are You Going, Dear Traveller?

resource – 7 of Cups Rx

In your childhood, I feel like you were forced to grow up faster than your peers. Your environment was not exactly friendly to the dreams and imaginations of a child. So you grew up to become practical, pragmatic and responsible rather quickly. But it was really hard to grow up like that because you, the real you, are a visionary. A visionary is someone who has many dreams and wild ideas, and in the right environment, a quality like that would’ve been much, much more celebrated! In the wrong environment, a dreaminess such as that is stifled.

This FM in Gemini invites you to revisit this dreaminess of yours because in your imaginations and daydreams lies the map of your Soul. Where have you come from and where are you going, dear visionary? Understanding your place in the world helps you gain insight about your Life Purpose, so to speak. What gifts have you brought into this world to share with Humanity? What challenges have you come face to face that have shaped your unique skills and perceptions?

recollection – 6 of Cups

Your home environment, your family and society have shaped the person that you are. It is important to understand your ‘roots’, kinda, so you know your strengths and weaknesses when standing in the midst of society. The rich kid from the upper echelons of society will possess skills and knowledge the poor kid from the hood wasn’t fed with. But likewise, the poor kid from the hood will possess perspectives and street smarts that are very unique in comparison to the shielded experiences of most privileged kids. Something like that.

One is not necessarily superior to the other. It’s mostly about understanding where you’ve come from and where these experiences, skills and perspectives could get you. Know your own uniqueness and use that to serve Humanity as you use that to take care of yourself and those you care about. A true sense of success can only come from being useful to other people, for the most part…unless you’re a psychopath XD

respite – King of Pentacles

You have so many natural talents that could make you money, that much I’d like to reaffirm. But more importantly than money, it’s that you have such a strong penchant for true leadership. If you work with your Throat chakra, you could become a very appealing public speaker. You could convince people to join your causes. But to become a true leader of the new world, you must possess good morality, so don’t forget to take care of your Solar Plexus and Heart chakras, so you don’t fall into the trapping of manipulation through speech.

Honestly, I think you are such a good person in spite of all the mental/psychological hardships you’ve had to grow up with. Calm your nerves down and enjoy slow moments with, idk, camomile tea or lavender bath, every now and then? Relaxation practices like breathing meditation, or even just fixing your sleeping pattern/schedule, could help you get in touch with your inner child again and I feel that this is something that will be important for you throughout this winter☃️Everything about your Life will become a lot clearer by spring, trust that😉

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Let the Past Die and Live on For Your Soul Tribes

resource – 3 of Cups

Honey, it’s time for you to rejoice. You’ve been through so much disappointment, so much heartbreak, and people have betrayed and abandoned you, and you’ve come through nevertheless. Surely that deserves some kind of karmic reward? Your Spirit Guides, your Soul Family, are applauding you for all you’ve been through. I think you’ve worked hard on yourself. Releasing yourself from past pains, distancing yourself—to the best of your ability—from toxic people and environments, and you’re about ready to serve your Dharmic Purpose.

I know many of you reading this will resonate with having worked on transmuting a lot of generational karma, but plenty of you tapping into this reading have even worked on transmuting geological karma and curses. The geographical location you were born into or the race you were born into, collectively speaking these kinds of things also carry generational curses based on terrible things that have happened on that location. I’d like you to know that you’ve done so much just by existing! You are the magic, the miracle that you’ve been hoping to see in the world🐣

recollection – Page of Pentacles

You’re an individual of many talents, but I’m sure there’s like 2 or 3 things you’re INSANELY good at. Do you know what they are? If you focus all of your aenergy on just these few main talents, you will literally shift your whole Reality to a much higher bandwidth! Try it. By focusing on just these few main pursuits, I sense you will be attracting your Soul Tribes at a much faster rate. I’m seeing these pulsating energetic vortexes that represent you and your Soul Tribes currently incarnate on Earth. These vortexes are spinning and expanding so rapidly that you and your Soul Tribes are magnetising each other into your morphogenetic fields���essentially, your Realities.

You and your Soul Tribes literally have unique missions on Earth and when you meet and collab, everything is going to make sense for you. These seemingly different groups of people are doing things (or exist in industries) that are similar to your own interests and visions for the world. I sense you may have felt a calling to be part of a certain industry and you’ve been studying and preparing yourself for that. ATTENTION! THIS. IS. NOT. RANDOM. You are being manifested by that industry if anything LMAO You have a place there so keep going!🌾

respite – 2 of Cups Rx

With all of that said, let this reading be your confirmation that you can make the choice to die to everyone and everything that doesn’t align with this vision in your mind that you know comes from your Soul. Be a ghost. Hustle in quiet. Don’t spill the beans until they are ready for planting. And when you plant, plant with your Soul Family and not those who are only pretending to be there for you so they can take advantage of you later!

Connections with your real Soul Tribes are going to feel effortlessly uplifting on top of being respectful of boundaries. Interactions and exchanges with your real Soul Tribes are never going to make you feel icky. Trust your gut instinct when you feel that someone you’ve come to trust is probably manipulating you with kind or sweet words imbued with some dishonourable intent. You’re probably right but let’s not take chances; you’ve had enough, so keep your brains about you, too. Best to use this time to build—or rebuild—your world of everything that makes Life worth living🎂

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[tigreblvnc]

YOUR LIFE IN BLUE LOCK — @nikonautic

BACKGROUND HEADCANONS;

♤ As a kid you had good academics, i’d assume your parents put much care into your activities.

♤ So naturally, selecting a sport/extracurricular was expected as well. Soccer was pushed on to you, but you weren’t against it as you were able to use your creativity in a more physical manner than usual.

♤ Eventually you were scouted by Ego, since he caught on to your desire to make an impact, and wanted to see just how hard you’d work for it.

♤ His answer is a lot.

♤ In bluelock, you met a few people who you connected with. And knew that there’d be more along the line. If there was any place where you could meet people who you felt most comfortable with, it’d be in bluelock.

♤ So you endured and adapted through everything they put you through.

♤ And it paid off!

COLOR AURA;

♤ Yellow.

♤ A nice dandelion yellow

♤ A perfect mix of your socialness, weirdness, and ideals.

♤ You want a color that’ll leave an impact? Can’t think of anything better. The brightness of yellow is often used to balance out other parts, and can often do so on its own, without relying on other colors.

♤ Yellow looks amazing in so many palettes. It can work in many situations, even ones you think it may not look good in. But if you darken or dim it too much, it becomes much harder to appreciate.

♤ Because of that, for yellow to look its best, it must be used in usually similar tints and tones as its surroundings. As long as there aren’t too many mismatches within an environment, yellow can always pop out and support the picture in the best way.

TEAM SELECTION;

♤ Bastard München

♤ With understanding being one of your main strengths, it makes sense that you can quickly gather the details of a situation.

♤ Whether it be emotional or logistical details, both help you understand the whole situation on the field

♤ No one on BM handles failure well, there you’ll be fighting with people with the same underlying fear of losing. Although things may vary between you guys, that will remain the same.

♤ Emotions aren’t something you have to worry about either. BM is the last team to judge you for getting overly intense on field, it seems to be the case with everyone.

♤ The lead players on BM all have incredibly strong goals, and will put almost anything on the line to achieve them, spectacular plays are the expectation.

♤ This I feel you would link into very quickly.

BEST FRIEND;

✦ What a magnificent duo, Niko :)

✦ I'm not only talking about your BFF… but about your overall dynamic, not just with your BFF but with your rival as well.

✦ Not to mention your position on the field.

✦ (Although, I am going to talk about it.)

✦ I think Isagi is perfect for supporting you in your desire to grow and affirm yourself through your successes. It's a strong trait that stands out in your entire description: you seek recognition for who you are through your achievements.

✦ Isagi is very skilled at analyzing and understanding every type of player, as we've seen multiple times in the manga.

✦ And I believe he quickly grasped your intentions, how you play, and why you play that way.

✦ We also know he's someone who performs better in a tandem than alone. I'm convinced that with you, he forms a formidable duo on the field.

✦ He not only helps you achieve your goals but also makes an excellent companion in your growth. It's entirely mutual, as he also learns from your game and personality.

✦ In short, one of the healthiest duos in the lore.

RIVAL;

✦ I didn't choose your rival by chance.

✦ I find that Kaiser is one of those characters who craves recognition more than almost anyone else in the Blue Lock cast.

✦ There's a huge identity quest behind why he plays. He seeks to define himself through his achievements, through his victories. He's someone who wants to be acknowledged for what he can accomplish on the field.

✦ And like you, he has doubted himself a lot. His self-esteem is complex, even damaged by his past. These are things he hides, trying to repair through everything he's building in the present.

✦ Seeing someone else on the field, motivated by similar intentions, could hit him like a lightning bolt.

✦ Understanding someone's intentions because you share them doesn't make that person a friend. This can even spark a rivalry, as a form of ego establishes itself: "It'll be me, and me alone."

✦ At the same time, I also think you’re both capable of recognizing each other's worth. You just don't openly admit it. On the contrary, I even think you tend to hold back from each other in public.

✦ But I know that in private, you both acknowledge that you have a formidable opponent who can teach you, even indirectly, how to surpass yourselves. How to turn weaknesses into strengths.

POSITION ON THE FIELD;

✦ Striker.

✦ The first striker of this matchup series :D Pleased to meet you. 🤝

✦ It's not a position for everyone: it requires boldness, courage, and an initiative that not everyone has.

✦ This position further amplifies the dynamic between you, Isagi, and Kaiser.

✦ You become the eye of the storm during the tense moments of the match.

✦ On one hand, you're supported by Isagi. On the other, you know that the threat of a Kaiser pushed to his limits could cost you the victory.

✦ In this particularly stimulating environment, you can give your best, highlight your qualities, and challenge the greatest opponents.

✦ The emergence of Niko in front of the whole world :)

© TIGREBLVNC 2024 | OCTOBER '24 MATCHUPS EDITION.

[mushroommanstan]

Moreeeeee yandere shiggy pleassee where he has a HUGE crush on the new recruit the moment she walk in.

So when he become very obsessed with you that everyone can obviously tell but you simply ingore him taking your panties or even smell your hair and then shiggy find out why because you're getting off on his behavior.

(Can you make them both being virgins and reader is naive when it's comes to sex like dabi randomly ask her if she has sex and she's give a deadpan face and say no... Also a chubby female reader please :3 ) make it kinda like dub-con maybe but I'll let you get creative with the smut 😏

Love your content btw!!❤💕💖💕

“Shiggyyyyyy!” Toga cheered, bursting through the front doors of the bar and bouncing towards him.

“What?!” He snapped, flinching when she excitedly wandered a little too close for his liking. He was used to Toga’s enthusiastic entrances by now, but that didn’t make them any less annoying.

“Remember that girl I was talking you to about? Y/n? Well she’s here! She wants to join the league so I told her you’d interview her!”

Shigaraki winced. He had completely forgotten about you. Whatever. “Tch. Fine, bring her in. Let’s get this over with.”

Seeing her boss’s sour mood, Toga’s cheerful beam dropped to a much more serious, much more sinister expression.

“Don’t kill her.”

Shigaraki scowled. Who the hell was she to be giving him orders?

“No promises. Just get her already I don’t have all day. I’m busy.” Busy playing LOL.

Toga smiled once more, bounding towards the entrance and slipping outside.

Really, this was just a formality. Shigaraki didn’t need any more members at the moment. Plus, any friend of Toga is bound to be just as problematic and pushy. Ugh, just the thought of another one of her made his neck prickle.

It took an utterly obnoxious amount of time for you to do god knows what before you were ready, finally stepping through, or rather, being shoved through the swinging doors of the bar. You turned around to face him and-

…….

He could swear his heart stopped. His phone clattered carelessly to the floor as his jaw literally dropped. His eyes widened considerably, a pink tint blossoming onto his face as he unknowingly held his breath.

Oh my god.

You were beautiful

Slowly his eyes made their way down your body, scanning you as you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

He had never seen anyone so attractive in his life. No, he had never seen anyone attractive in his life, ever. For a while, he thought the concept of attractiveness was a myth, a superficial lie used for societal dominance or something. But you were proof he had been dead wrong.

You… you looked like something he wanted to touch. But like, in a good way. Like, he didn’t want to hurt you or anything, no, he wanted to touch you just because. Is that even a thing? Can you just touch people?

You looked so soft and warm… inviting in a way that made him feel like he would be safe if he could just be in your arms. Weird.

His mind was racing a mile a minute but unfortunately that did nothing for the tense silence you were met with. From what you could see of him, he was staring at you intensely. Really intensely. It was honestly pretty scary. It had your thighs rubbing together…. In anxiety….

Dear god you haven’t even said anything and he’s already going to kill you isn’t he? This was a mistake. You shouldn’t have come here, shouldn’t have-

“You’re in”

Those two little words felt like a punch to the gut. What?! Just… what?!

You were sure you misheard him. You hadn’t even said who you were! You haven’t said anything! What in the world was he thinking?!

Meanwhile Shigaraki was just as surprised as you were at what he said. He didn’t even think, the words just slipped out. But even so, they felt right. The fact was that you made him feel something he’s never felt before, something he wants to explore. He wanted to find out everything he can about what you were doing to him. He was absolutely sure it would be worth any consequences given from the lack of screening in the future.

For now, he needs you close by, and if that means you joining the league then so be it.

Toga squealed, running up from behind and hugging you in joy of your acceptance. While being dragged off to her room to unpack, you kept your eye contact with Shigaraki, still in shock of what just happened. He hesitated, before he did something even more baffling.

“Wait” Shigaraki ordered, gesturing by raising his hand before sliding off the stool. Toga stopped abruptly, turning around obediently despite her previous free-spirited display.

“She’ll sleep in my room tonight….. safety precaution.”

Toga squinted her eyes at him skeptically. “Never did that with any of us”

“SH-SHUT UP!” Shigaraki yelled, face forming a dangerous snarl as he snapped. You flinched at his sudden outburst, but Toga remained unfazed. She was used to her boss’s bullshit by now.

Still, it was the desperate attempt by Shigaraki to guard his intentions that ironically had Toga’s eyes widening and a cheeky grin forming on her face. She gave him a knowing look, one you missed as you tried to calm yourself down. He sighed, flustered to hell and back behind Father, before muttering “go.” and raising his hand to point in the direction of her room.

She giggled, turning without a word and skipping back to her room without a care in the world, leaving you alone with him. Eventually he took you to his room to unpack, but for a while the both of you just stood in the bar silently, just looking at each other and waiting for them to say something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the awkward meeting, things went on in the league as much as you had expected. Sarcasm, booze, occasional fights, assassination missions, that sort of stuff.

To your surprise, even though you were sharing a room with him Shigaraki gave you a lot of space. He even let you sleep in his bed while he took the floor since there wasn’t really any other place for you to sleep. You felt bad about making sleep on the hard floor, but every time you tried to compromise or propose switching places every other day he insisted he liked the floor better, saying it was good for his back or something.

Even so, you felt guilty hearing him toss and turn on the hardwood floor while you were snuggled up under his blankets. But you knew you were in no position to tell him what to do, so you just accepted his generosity as best you could.

After that, things went on about as normally as they could, until one fateful night…

~~~~~~~~~~~~cheap transition~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hahaha, no way you’re a virgin”

Shigaraki choked on his drink. He quickly grabbed a napkin before you could see the mess he made.

He had felt bad about ease dropping at first but he had to admit it was reaping some nice information. He’ll have to further investigate your concessions within the privacy of his quarters. (He’s gonna jack off later)

Dabi leaned back in his chair, watching with amusement as your face flushed while you stumbled over your words. You tired to correct and change your phrasing but no matter what you said it always lead to the same conclusion. You’re a virgin.

Holy shit he’s hard. Shigaraki writhed a little in his seat, trying desperately to quell the ache in his pants even just a little bit without being noticed. He’d been trying to do so for a while now, trying different perverted things in the middle of the night when you’re sure he’s fast asleep. But no matter what he tried nothing seemed to quench his thirst for you. If anything, it magnified it.

And to make matters worse Toga and Dabi had seemed to catch on to his little crush and are now set on torturing him. Toga’s intentions were clear, her little sister-like tendencies just loving to make him groan in annoyance as she teased him. But Dabi, Dabi had some more… personal intentions. While not clear at first, Shigaraki has come to realize his feelings were shared and rivaled. For a while, Dabi had been intentionally flustering him so he’d leave the two of you alone. Even now Dabi is giving him a cocky smirk as you babbled on about your inexperience.

And as much as he hates to admit it, it was working.

He sighed. Whatever, he didn’t have to put up with this. He slid off his barstool quietly, sulking over to the stairs before disappearing from view, letting Dabi once again bask in victory. Unlike Dabi, however, he actually had the luxury of sharing a room with you, and that’s not something that can be so easily taken away. So he can enjoy listening to you babble, Shigarakis all set with your dirty laundry.

The door creaked open, an unsettling sound that matching the unsettling things he was about to do. Sure he was a villain, but he never felt as naughty as he did when he went through your things. His mouth stretched to a sinister grin, drool peaking out from the corners of it as his finger tapped his jaw in contemplation. What to do, what to do.

He felt like a kid in a candy store. So many of your personal belongings that he gets to explore. And the fact you don’t know about the things he does to them is even better. He’ll hump and sniff and lick everything you’ve touched and you’ll never know. You’ll wear the panties he’d almost choked himself with on several occasions without a clue and he’ll be the only one who knows. It’s his dirty little secret. One he can’t wait to expand every night.

He practically tears his pants off in excitement. His earlier statement was a lie, he didn’t have to think about what he was gonna do first. He always started with his favorite. Your pillow.

He loved smelling you on his pillow, both your scents mixing in perfect harmony with each other and filling his senses with false companionship. He loves kissing and spitting on it, knowing you’ll be laying your perfect head on it that night and unknowingly mixing his essence with yours. He loves humping it, further defiling it until he stains his underwear with his cum. God he’d love to let it go onto the pillow itself but he knew if he did that his fun little game would be put to an end.

It wasn’t long before soft cushion was pinned between his legs and rocked against aggressively, used trying to satisfy his demanding libido. His cock chafed against his underwear deliciously making him mewl out in pleasure. Just the thought of you sleeping on his defiled, used pillow was getting him through his perverted actions. Your panties didn’t hurt either, which were currently balled up in his mouth as far in as they could go.

Fuck he…he loves you! He loves you and he wants to fuck your brains out. He wants to shove his cock inside your pussy and fill it with his seed, be a part of you forever. He wants to hear you call out his name

“Oh my god Shigaraki!”

Yeah like that and-

. . .

Oh shit.

Shigaraki jerked in surprise, accidentally decaying his pillow and lodging the panties in his mouth down his throat. He begins to gasp and wheeze, both hands raising to clutch at his throat while you instinctively come over to help him.

He panic, face going red slightly as he tried to dislodge your panties before he suffocated. You didn’t know the hemlich maneuver or anything so you were just pacing, rubbing his back and repreatedly asking if he was alright, even though it was obvious he wasn’t.

Then, involuntarily, all goes still when he swallowed it down with a loud gulp. You were relieved he was ok, still in shock and not yet processing what he was doing. He on the other hand, was the opposite of ok. This may have been the most embarrassing way hes hurt himself.

His mind raced with the consequences of what he’d just done, the dawning realization that he’s going to have to explain to the doctor why his intestines are blocked by your underwear distracting him from the fact that you had just walked in on him. It was only until the shock had faded and the two of you were in a tense silence that the recent events had processed.

Both of your faces flushed with embarrassment in unison. He scratched harshly at his sore neck, quickly rushing over to lock the door as you verbally pieces together what he was doing and with what.

You were the one to speak up first.

“Shigaraki… were you… humping my pillow?” You asked, words shaky as you tried to stay calm.

Yet another silence befell you two, until Shigaraki decided to lay down this little number.

“….it’s my pillow, actually.”

You fumed, rushing over and slapping him across the face without thinking. The snap of skin hitting skin cut through the air and caused you to flinch a little. Anger and disgust taking over as you attacked him without thinking. You tackled him to the ground, laying a few good punches on his face and making blood trickle down from his nose.

Coming back to his senses his hands raised and caught your wrists, causing you to squirm in desperation. He went red in the face once more, the pink tint cascading over his ears and shoulders.

You fought his grasp, his groans not quite making your ears as you stared down at his face in pure rage. Unknown to you, your hips were resting on top of his, and every movement you made to try and get away from him caused you to grind aggressively against his bulge. You bounced and scraped against it, a feeling so intense that Shigaraki found himself paralyzed in pleasure below you. No matter how loud he got it didn’t click for you what was happening to him until you felt your ass hit something wet.

Blood maybe? No, blood was red. And this was… white?

OH GOD!

You cried out in mortification, finally able to rip your hands free from your grasp and falling backwards. Shigaraki panted, a content smile on his face and eyes drooped as he enjoyed the oh so familiar bliss for just a moment.

You did the opposite, so traumatized by the whole ordeal that you found yourself frozen in terror. You can not believe this just happened. Your boss just… oh my god!

But the worst part, the absolute worst part of it all is that you could feel yourself bleed through your pants with slick. This was the absolute worst part. The fact you were actually getting off on his rotten behavior. The fact that this wasn’t the first time he’d made you feel this way and you still let him continue.

You shamefully leaned in whenever he sniffed your hair, and you never complained when your panties came back all crusted and dirty. Hell, you’ve humped his pillow too. Damn it if you didn’t lust for him back. But your pride wouldn’t allow it. You wouldn’t allow it. You can’t have feelings for him.

But you did, and you hated it. You always figure you’d be able to shove these feelings down where they couldn’t hurt anyone but here they are, back again and with interest. Why did seeing him like a pathetic mess get you so damned excited? What was wrong with you? Why won’t you hate him?!

Speak of the devil, his satisfied trance appeared to have been lifted, his eyes once again calculating and cold. He walked over to you, losing his lover-boy charm and returning to the serious dick-hole you called your boss.

He towered over you, scratching his neck furiously causing skin flakes to rain down upon you. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t want to. God he hopes there was some way to reason with you, for once, he’s gonna try to use his words.

You don’t care how you feel. He violated your stuff, and he just ruined your pants. He’s gonna pay. He’s gonna pay and he’s gonna like it.

….

Fuck it. You’re a villain. You’re all mentally deranged might as well accept it. You don’t care anymore.

“You will not tell anyone about this.” He ordered, trying to look as intimidating as he could with spoiled pants and tomato red cheeks.

You scoffed, rising from the ground slowly and climbing up his legs with your hands. He sneered, ready for whatever you’re about to do. Or atleast he thought.

“Of course not.” You replied, a glint in your eyes never before seen, one that made his guard crumble and letting desperation leak out.

You raised your hand to his already embarrassingly hard cock, stroking over it as he shivered. He was completely taken aback. Where the fuck did this come from? He’s not complaining but… he feels like he missed something huge.

You’re not though. You mouth along his damp sweats, tasting the cum from the other side of the fabric. You let the outline of your tongue dance along the curve of his erection, before looking him in the eye and pulling his pants all the way down.

“How could I with a mouth full of your cock?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HAHA!!! I DID IT! IT TOOK TWO WEEKS BUT I DID IT! FINALLY!

Sorry again it took so long I hope it was worth the wait, thank you for being so nice @prettylittlebunnys I really appreciate it

[epersonae]

Hi - good morning.

this may be a weird, out of place message.

I was mutuals with Ryn (when they went by Kath) many many years ago. We interacted briefly, but Ryn was one of my favourite follows. They got me into Mass Effect, which is now my favourite franchise. I deleted tumblr years ago, but would think of Ryn and the passion for Tess from TLOU often. Though I was not a TLOU fan, the stories and world Ryn created for Tess really stayed with the me.

Ryn came to mind recently and I was curious to know their thoughts on the live action Tess. I remade tumblr to find their blog as I had forgotten the url. I found their tumblr because of the joel miller "foxy grandpa" profile pic, which still made me laugh even years later. I was devastated to find Ryn had passed.

I know I am just a stranger on the internet, but I wanted to share that is not infrequent that Ryn crosses my mind. Ryn's love for Tess, their creativity, and their humour really stayed with me through the years. I will think of them for years to come.

I am so sorry for your loss. Ryn was truly a bright light light in this world that we have lost.

Not weird, not out of place -- I teared up when I saw your message, and thank you for this.

I always feel so honored when people reach out about their experiences with Ryn. They had such an effect on so many people who I never met and probably never will meet, and I especially love hearing from friends from other fandoms. We met through fandom, we became friends and creative collaborators and then fell in love, and our first date was a liveshow for The Adventure Zone. And so I treasure that this was such a huge part of their life.

They were restarting Mass Effect, the new (? remastered?) version that came out in 2021, the summer before they died. I got to see them play just a little bit, and they were going to show me all their favorite things and share the lore, and what they loved about it. (I am terrible at most video games, so I probably won't ever play it myself, alas.)

I know they loved Tess from TLOU - I also got a little bit of their hot takes about Joel, and iirc about people woobifying him? I had no idea what the hell the "foxy grandpa" Joel Miller icon was about when we first became friends, but I also associate it so much with them.

I don't know if the live action was any further than having been announced by the time they died; if it was, I don't remember their thoughts. (@adreamingofguns can you check me on this? between it not being my thing and 2021 being entirely consumed with the Horrors and the wedding, I cannot remember) I thought about watching it for them, but got warned off on account of a variety of themes that are a little too close to my various traumas, but I have vicariously enjoyed it through various mutuals who were watching.

Thank you thank you thank you again for the ask. I got a bunch of messages on various platforms when I posted from their accounts, including some folks who I am still mutuals with now. We had such a short time together, in the grand scheme of things, that it brings me both intense joy and intense sorrow to encounter other people who cherished their passion, creativity, and humor.

[babymockers]

I was going through my drafts the other day when I found this, written in the peak of my Graham Coxon obsession, a couple of years ago. Since it's so long, I had to cut this story into two parts (I was very creative 🙄).

I don’t know why I’m sharing this, but enjoy!

"I can’t see what you see in me"

Graham Coxon x female reader.

Prompt: Graham was having a really hard time with himself during a photoshoot and you had a great idea to cheer him up. Heavily inspired by Blair and Serena stealing Eleanor Waldorf's clothing line clothes on Gossip Girl (s1, e4).

Place/time: during the late 90's.

Reader description: reader is a French model trying to make herself a name in the industry, while being reduced to be in her boyfriend's shadow.

Fluff.

Part 1.

Graham was alone.

He was sitting on his stupid chair, drinking tea from his stupid cup, feeling even more stupid than he did before.

Now, for the amateur eye, he didn't seem that much alone. He was surrounded by people: make up artists, stylists, cameras, all that stuff. But he was, in fact, alone. Alone and bored.

Also, it was a terribly cold winter and a storm was probably coming at any time while they were stuck there working outdoors in a park.

So he was falling asleep on his stupid chair. Again.

Suddenly, he heard an excited voice calling his name, a voice that he knew a little too well from the person that he loved the most.

"Graham!" you shouted and he quicky turned his body towards the direction of the sound, standing up. You ran onto his arms and hugged him tightly making him almost lost balance. Even though he was surprised, his arms reached out for your body instinctively.

Still in his arms, you took his face with your soft hands and placed a sweet kiss onto his lips, him melting at the touch.

Alex, sitting next to that romantic scene, looked at you with genuine curiosity, trying to make something of your face. Wondering if you two have met before.

The truth was: you haven't. It may have sounded strange considering that in the past couple of months, you had been omnipresent-like to the Blur guys. Your name was always there, filling not only the empty spaces of the rehearsals but filling Graham's mind completely. You were present whole-heartedly in Graham's dreamy smiles and little giggles that came out of nowhere and in every new song that came with a dumb look of im-so-in-love. Present in the purple-ish marks on Graham's neck or like a stolen kiss from his plumped lips. Present in Damon's laugh every time he made fun of his best friend's infatuation but secretely holding an enormous respect for you that made him feel almost rotten to jealousy. "He doesn't need me anymore. He's got Y/N now. She'll take care of him" Damon used to say. But he didn't meant it. Not really.

You were great, the best one Graham ever had. The other ones were either boring or pretentious cunts, in the singer's own words. But he couldn't help to feel overprotective towards his best friend and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a bit jealous of the fact that Graham was so in love with you.

Damon loved attention. And Graham's attention was like crack because it was hard to make him interested in someone for real.

And the other times, you were there in body and soul, sitting in a corner taking pictures of whatever you founded interesting enough or simply hanging out.

So it was really weird for Alex to not have met you yet. Sure he heard the name, but Graham had been smart enough to make Alex and you not cross any paths. He knew Alex too well to trust him.

Dave chuckled and wolf-whistled, making Graham's cheeks turn red and he separated his lips from yours, unable to hide the big smile plastered on his face.

He never had anyone loving him like you do. So intense and passionate, so caring and gentle like a little child, rushing into his arms and calling his name for the whole town to hear it. Making him feel special, wanted. You could have anyone but, and here's the big but, you wanted him. And proudly so, as you always said.

"W-what are you doing here? I thought you weren't in England" He asked in confusion.

Your smile turned into a frown "And I thought you'd be happy to see me...”

"No, no. Please don't get me wrong. I'm just confused. I mean..." He started to panic.

You cut him off with a big smile "I'm joking, Gra. Turns out i don't have to work this couple of days because the collection got ruined by the rain and the photoshoot had to be rescheduled. The CEO was so angry, you should've seen him. He treated us very badly and that left me feeling sick to my stomach. So I remembered you were having a photoshoot here and I took the plane and well... I got an impulse. It's okay, right? I won't bother you. Just here for moral support" You said in a rush. "Oh, hi Dave". Dave waved his hand. Then you turned to Alex "I believe we haven't met yet. I'm Y/ N". You offered him your hand. "Alex, right? Heard lots of things about you".

He took your hand and gently placed a kiss on it "Good things I hope. So you're the famous Y/N". He turned to Dave but shot a quick look towards Graham, who was eyeing carefully at the exchange that was occurring in front of him, looking quite uneasy. "I must say I never expected that our little Graham was shagging such a pretty bird. Where are you from, Love? You've got a lovely accent". Graham tensed.

The awkwardness of the situation was only intensified by him pointing out your accent. You knew Alex didn't mean any harm, but that didn't sooth the rage in Graham's throat.

You've been officially named "Graham Coxon's New French Girlfriend" by the media and while you've told Graham so many times that it was a honor to be his girlfriend, he knew you were more than that stupid title. After all, you had a career of your own. You coincidentally met him at an event and now you've been living together in England for almost a year. But it just sort of happened. It wasn't your problem the media became obsessed with you.

And also you really wanted to get rid of the accent.

You opened your mouth to say something but before anything came out, Graham spoke in a condescending tone:

"She's french, Alex. You should know since you seem to get along so well with the french gals".

"Well... Alex begun.

"Where's Damon? I thought this was a group photoshoot" you interrumpted him trying to distract the tension away.

As if summoned, Damon appeared with a lopsided grin, always in his very own world. He kissed your cheek in a scandalous way and put his arm around Graham, although his best triend didn't even look at him. He was too busy shooting Alex with his gaze.

"Graham, it's fucking cold out here, put something on, mate. Jesus, you look like you're going to kill someone and I'm not in the "hiding a corpse" mood" Damon said completely oblivious to the fact that he was the one wearing only a suit and Graham was wearing a big jacket. Classic Damon. Then, he continued: "Well, the photographer, that bastard, just said he needed both of us, Alex, in front of the camera 'cause, I quote him: "Alex could make the suit work 'cause he's a good looking fella". I told him he could kiss my ass or my face, whatever. I quite fancy him. But not like I fancy you, Graham" He said battling his lashes, kissing Graham's temple. "You look sexy when you're angry. Love it".

Alex rolled his eyes, tired, and grinned at Graham

"Don't be mad at me, you twat. I was joking". Then he said to you: "Nice meeting ya, doll".

"Careful there, Alex. He's not playing around when Y/N is involved. Quite jealous he is" Damon laughed before the two of them started walking towards the photographer, who was already waiting for them. Damon rushed onto him, giving him a kiss on the cheeks.

You laughed at his childish behavior.

Dave patted Graham's shoulders and excused himself before making his way towards the improvised trailer the team managed to put together.

Graham lit up another cigarette letting the nicotine calm his burning insides and peered over the working crew to see Damon and Alex both wearing 1930's suits and posing as camera flashes exploded in their faces. He sat in a little bench, you by his side: "They look great. I didn't look as great as them".

You took his hand in yours. "You okay?"

"What is it like?" He said after a moment of silence, not looking at you but somehow giving you all his attention. "To be a model, you know. To have all of those people looking at you and telling you to make faces or something".

"Well, it's definitely not as fun as it may look. I used to think that it would be easy, that you only needed to be pretty and you'd be fine. But it's exhausting, actually". You smiled sadly "I often think l'd be better behind the cameras, being the one taking pictures”.

"You took some lovely pictures the other day..."

You smiled. "And how's it like being a rockstar?".

"Don't let Damon hear you say that. He says Blur's not a rock band. I say Blur's whatever the fuck Blur wants to be". He laughed humorless.

"And what does Blur want to be?" You asked.

"I'm not quite sure. Probably not a rock band".

You both laughed.

You moved your body closer to him. "And what does Graham wants to be?"

"I don't know. He certainly would prefer staying in bed cuddled up with you. Take me away from this big bad world and agree to marry me". He said while he leaned back on the bench, resting his head on your lap and putting your hand on his head, practically forcing you to stroke his hair.

You giggled "Mmm... You just made that up?" He nodded. “It sounded like a song". You said while he looked up at you with a sly smile. You leaned in and kissed his forehead as you started: "Alex..."

He interrupted you: "Alex is a bastard, you should know that. He's far up his arse and thinks he's got the right to do anything 'cause he's sexy or whatever. It doesn't sit right with me sometimes. Let's forget about him". You nodded.

A couple of minutes went by with none of you talking and you thought he was falling asleep. You loved watching him sleep. It was like all the darkness there inside of him left his body and he was finally at peace with himself. Then he broke the silence: "Do you find him a handsome bloke?"

You struggled, trying to find the right words "He's alright. Big egos aren't really my thing, though. I think you're way more handsome than him".

He frowned "You can't possibly think that. It doesn't take too much to see that Alex and Damon are more attractive than me. I'm awkward and too self conscious. They're the handsome ones. They could "sell the product". And I-I-I'm not, you see? I don't sell the product. I’d probably won't look half as great as them in those ridiculous 1930's suits. I don't sell what Blur wants to be. Fuck, I don't even sell myself. I'm just here...”

You took his hand in yours, leaving a kiss in it "I think you're all those things you said about them. You're there being yourself with all your flaws and strenghts. And I think that's beautiful about you. You don't need to sell the product because there's no product at all. You're Graham Coxon, not the guitarist or the guy from Blur. You're the person and you're the most attractive to me because you feel and you love in a way that none of them do". You looked at his eyes intensely. "And you also look quite sexy when you're jealous, Damon's right, I must say”. You added, trying to relieve the tension on his shoulders.

He gasped, pretending to be offended "I wasn't jealous".

"Sure you weren't" You said mockingly causing him to laugh.

Then he went silent again.

He sighed "I just can't see what you see in me".

You looked at him. The tenderness in his factions. His big brown eyes full of the melancholic feeling that consumed him daily.

You just knew he was more than enough. You knew since the first time you met him. He was incapable of holding your gaze yet somehow he managed to got you blushing all night. He didn't knew a single word of French yet you understood him so well. You communicated through your souls. Words were unnecessary.

Graham, so fragile and so broken. Yet, he put together the broken pieces of yourself, the ones left bruised. Now you were glowing, sparkling.

You wanted to do the same for him.

.

Part 2 here

[omarera]

So so proud of Omar. I am so happy he is let in to new types of media. SvD and DN are the biggest national morning news papers in Sweden. He has been in evening papers and might be silly but I am glad he is covered in these papers. And now also Hellenius Hörna and Så mycket bättre. Thank You TV4. Now let’s hope national radio stations let his music in as well.

Here are some bits of the interview in SvD. It resembles his Sommarprat and nothing new for us really but a really nice interview with a nice tone in it and it will reach many households in Sweden that still has morning papers…

He talks about where he was a few years ago from the interview and I think it’s beautiful that he opens up about feeling lost, experimenting and on his journey to get to know himself and feel confident being who he is and that he also dares to vocalize his dreams. Remember that Jantelagen is strong in Sweden and vocalizing such big dreams is not usual. His journey continues!! I so want for him to reach his goals❤️

They start off with his FO&O and talk a out his bringing and his mom and dad and moving to Sweden.

One thing he hasn’t touched so much on before is how being known so young affected him:

“It was the sickest thing I've ever been through. It was both a kick and very scary to break through, especially when you were alone in town or going home on the bus. I was up in Stockholm and felt very watched. It was an emotional rollercoaster.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Every single person my age has known about me since I was 14 years old. It has been very intense and probably affected me in different ways. I've probably become more shy and stick mostly to my friends that I've had for many years.”

(We know he always pick stay home and that he is very close to his friends and has a circle of friends he feels safe with. And then about after FO&O)

“I released a few singles, but then the pandemic came and everything was put on hold. That's when it started.

Omar Rudberg puts one hand in his baggy leather jacket pocket and looks out through the Connection Hall in the Slaughterhouse area, where we met on a cool autumn afternoon.

“I was incredibly lost. Both in my professional role and in myself. I had no idea who I was or what I was going to be, what I liked and didn't like.

He set out on an experimental journey.

- I tried to find myself and started hanging out very intensively with friends. We hung out every day and became almost like a collective. It was incredibly fun and above all nice to see people who were in different ways.”

(I also liked this part where he talks about his creativity: )

“In the new homeland, the song and dance continued to be palpable, as did Omar's wild imagination. By the age of eight, it was so intense that his parents took him to a child psychologist.

- What they reacted to was that I didn't need toys. I could just enter another world, be chased by dinosaurs or have the worst action movie in my head. But I wasn't crazy, the child psychologist noted, just a child.

The creativity and musical gift can be traced to the grandmother and the mother. Early on, the latter ensured that Omar participated in talent competitions, often with success.

(And then more in creativity and using it to find yourself)

- My friends and I started trying different types of clothes. We played music and got dressed up. Some tried to put on makeup and nail polish. I really experimented. Those who are not in the know immediately think that a guy who wears make-up is gay or transgender - that bothers me. Make-up should not have to have an orientation, it should be for everyone. Now I wear black eyeliner when I feel like it without being ashamed.

Playing with the outside became a way to find home more in one's inner self, and the fact that Omar was named Best Dressed Man of the Year by the magazine Café this spring is something of a receipt for that.

- I have realized that I have to feel comfortable, stable and free with who I am if I am to be able to move forward in life. Clothes clearly play a role in that. They can also help me get into a certain character more easily.

(There is more text in YR and Karusell but he gets back to: )

“Although it is as an actor Omar has become known in recent years, it is the music he wants to focus on the most in the future. A few days ago, the new single Off my mind was released and tonight is the premiere of this year's So much better on TV4, where Omar is one of the participants.

Perhaps the participation will also be revenge for Omar as a solo artist.

- Yes, I hope people are reminded that I'm actually a singer at heart, it's music that I love the most. I'm looking forward to releasing an album eventually and especially to playing live.

A decade has passed since Omar Rudberg first broke through, when I ask what he thinks life will look like in another ten years, he first laughs at the thought of being 35. Then comes the answer:

- I want to have done the sickest gigs, have had several hits and be out on a world tour. I want to be in a Latin American TV series or movie and for my own company to be worth an incredible amount of money. I will not buy a Lamborghini, but a nice apartment for my mother so that she can be free as a bird. I want to give back everything I got from her.

He runs his hand through his slightly wavy hair and walks over to the mirror to get ready for the photo shoot.

- I would never have dared to have it this way a few years ago. Thankfully, I am much more confident in myself now.

You're not as lost anymore?

- No, I have grown a lot in recent years and now I feel stable enough to take myself forward in life. But I'm probably not quite there yet, the journey continues …

Translated bits from: Elin Liljero Eriksson - 23 oktober 2023 SvD Magazine.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

i had a history of being a intense with music criticism, and my former situationship did.not take a liking to that at all

(im a self taught musician and he's a classical violinist. often he'd complain that i was being too hard on classical musicians but he also felt comfortable saying a kpop song was a creative aberration)

most notably i went IN on roasting the Finnish composer Sibelius cause i really disliked his 5th symphony. it just felt sooooo lost and unfocused and messy and undone. after we went to the symphony, we chatted a bit with his teacher and she mentioned some theories that he used ghostwriters for his good work and the truth is that he was not a good composer (sorry Finnish people) and that just added more fire to my flame to roast him for about 10 more minutes until he told me it was getting a little excessive

anyways i mostly stopped after that, because idc that much about complaining and i really was falling in love with him

one day as we were talking, i made a half-joke saying "who listens to Coldplay" in 2023 and we ended up fighting so much he just deleted our telegram chat for both of us, in which we talked everyday for about a month and a half. he blocked me on the website we met each other and has not reached out since; it's been about 3 months since the split.

i didn't reach out either, at first out of pride

aita?

What are these acronyms?

[britcision]

Listen I can’t finish it tonight but I’m real real close but next week is gonna be buuuuuuusy so chapter 15 is right on the line of done and we’ll see if I get it up before next Wednesday 👀

If I do, we may not have a WIP Wednesday next week so again, we shall see

This week, have second place from the poll, Waylon and Danny!

————————

I’ll Take The Highway part vi

Waylon sat back in his seat, back scraping against the wall of the booth as he surveyed the kid in front of him.

Little squirt was tougher ‘n he looked, that much was definitely true. Harley had given him the short run down on their way to the milkshake bar, all the powers she knew he had.

And that he’d been hunted by his folks for a while. Waylon knew how that kinda shit could mess ya up.

He appreciated the heads up too, cuz this kinda shit coming up outta nowhere? Also pretty damn rough. He’d wondered if the kid just wanted to come along for another fight.

If he just wanted another chance to say he’d looked Killer Croc in the eye.

But there was no real bravado there, not even when he challenged Waylon to a rematch. Shit, the kid treated him more normal than most of his henchmen had ever managed to.

Made sense, knowing he was part a ghost an’ fought ghost rogues, but it left Waylon wondering. Apparently he was getting his answer.

Same damn question he’d asked himself a thousand times, ‘specially around the kind of young vigilantes who’d taken a turn to the bad.

Didn’t mean he had a good answer.

He regarded the kid for a long minute, watching the fidgeting, the sudden shyness from a boy who’d literally tackled him from behind on a whim.

This wasn’t just an idle question. Something made him sure of that, and he’d never been involved in all that much of the really weird shit. You heard stories, especially in Arkham.

So he decided to give the kid the best answer he had.

“Cuz I was the worst version of myself. I let myself be the monster they thought I was, got pretty good at it. But it never made me happy.” He paused, mulling it over.

Chuckled softly and looked down into his half drunk milkshake. It was kinda funny how obvious it seemed, in hindsight.

“Shit, there was never even anythin’ I wanted. Not like Penguin, Freeze, or the others. People treated me like a monster so I tried to be one, cuz why the hell not? Couldn’t be worse, could it?”

His gaze shifted back to Danny’s face, watching the kid’s expression. No judgement, which was nice. But he did look confused.

“So you just… got sick of it?” Danny asked, his brows furrowed as he played with his fingers.

Waylon chuckled and shook his head.

“Kinda. Spent a while thinkin’ if people couldn’t treat me with respect, fear’d do. But it ain’t the same. An’ I never had the drive or creative cruelty to stand out in Gotham.”

Danny looked a little incredulous at that, eyebrows rising, but he caught himself before commenting. Snickered and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess being in a city that’s used to people like Scarecrow and the Joker puts “big and green” into perspective,” he agreed dryly, and Waylon laughed.

It felt good to laugh.

“Oh yeah. City’s got more than its share of low level thugs anyway. I spent a while as extra muscle for the big boys, but I ain’t the takin’ orders sort,” he explained with a modest shrug.

Danny grinned, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward.

“What, a shy and retiring guy like you?” He asked, clearly teasing, and Waylon waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m lucky it was Gotham,” he added after a moment, reflection sobering his mood. “Got sent t’ Arkham. Met Harley. An’ the Bat’s not all that bad. He tried gettin’ me outta the life a couple times.”

Danny cocked his head, a slight frown returning to his face. Following Waylon’s lead.

“How did Batman try and get you out?” There was a little too much intensity for it to be a casual question, and Waylon noted it. Not that he’d figure it out on his own.

Just tryin’ to make sure he didn’t damage the kid.

“Oh, there were a couple ways. Got me moved down to Florida once. Out in the green, away from people. I figured bein’ a wild animal might be more my speed, but it wasn’t. An’ it got messy when I left. Like that whatever he tried, really. There’s lines you can’t uncross.”

Lines like being a cannibal.

Not that he was sobbin’ on a preacher’s shoulder about it. Most of the people he’d eaten were assholes who’d deserved it, and it’d been a preference not a need.

For all people loved to go on about him eatin’ kids and babies, he’d never actually done it. A guy had to have standards.

Made it easy to stop, once he was in a better head space. He and Harley had talked a lotta old shit out.

Kid didn’t need to know those grisly details though, at least not from his own mouth. Watching Danny a moment longer, Waylon came to a decision.

“Look, kid. There’s a lotta reasons people go bad. Some of ‘em can’t be helped. But if they’re not gettin’ anything out of it, if there’s no goal? The appeal runs out. And sometimes all it takes is someone willin’ to reach down an’ haul yer back up to the light.”

He wouldn’t ask if that was the case with whoever the kid wanted to help. Everyone heard stories, ‘specially about heroes meeting their evil selves.

The fear looked personal, but the asking coulda been for anyone. Waylon was in no rush to judge.

Danny mulled over his words for a while, lips moving soundlessly as he frowned down at the table. This time when he looked up, there was a peace in his eyes.

He’d come to a decision. Good for him.

“Thanks, Waylon. You seem like a pretty great guy to me,” he said simply, and Waylon definitely did not feel a lump in his throat.

“This is after years o’ Harley workin’ on me,” he grumbled gruffly. Shaking his head, he slurped down the last of his milkshake quickly.

Nothing like brain freeze to explain being a little misty eyed.

——————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor r @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook

[pearlprincess02]

taylor swift and harry styles composite chart

sun

capricorn sun: capricorn sun in the composite is all about ambition. this relationship exists to reach success and complete desired goals. these people create an energy of purpose that seeks to accomplish. this placement is very binding until both people feel that they have reached the desired goal. there are certain expectations in these relationships as they hold each other to a high standard.

sun in 3rd house: composite sun in the third house deals with youth. similar to gemini sun in the composite, this placement is great for friendships. there’s a lot of communication and humor involved. these people don’t take each other seriously, but in the best way. i also find this placement indicates that the people involved begin to steal each other’s lingo/hobbies, it’s so cute.

moon

leo moon: “Let’s not get caught up in the craziness of this world. Instead, let’s be our own little crazies.” comfort is felt most when both are able to express emotions freely and authentically. creative expressions must be met for the two of you to feel that you’re in touch with your emotions. there is just this lighthearted energy when the two of you come together; you are able to let loose and just have fun. doing activities or spending trips together are things both of you are fond of. together, you may not mind being the center of attention and both love to socialize with others. just do not get caught up in caring too much about what other people say about your relationship.

moon in 9th house: there is agreement about their life views, philosophies, morality. sharing of abstract ideas, there's quite a lot of conversation in this placement. even if they have different backgrounds and moral views with this placement they will find a way to agree on each other's perceptions, or to have some kind of shared ideal, common ground. it's not a position that provides a lot of intellectual growth for the two people because we do tend to have agreement that's already built in. so there isn't a curiosity outside of what's going on between them. So they can enforce each other's beliefs, provide more of a concreteness to each other's philosophies or ideas. "I believe in what you believe."

rising/ 1st house:

scorpio rising: others might find your relationship more closed off or mysterious. you project intensity and depth. this placement would make for the least superficial relationship and you are both very susceptible to each other’s emotions and passionate with one another. issues with jealousy and possessiveness can arise.

pluto in 1st house: you are both conduits for dramatic transformation in each other’s lives. you both are magnetically drawn to each other as you inspire each other’s power, confidence and attraction energy. yet you can also easily inspire each other to make significant changes especially to your outward ambition and even physical appearance. through this relationship you are both likely to help usher in dramatic changes that alter the way others see you both as individuals. you can influence each other to become more focused and determined to succeed in your ambitions. you may also help each other release fears and insecurities so you can better embrace your true purpose and shared mission together.

mercury

aquarius mercury: talking to each other can feel like talking to a lifelong friend, they may have different ways of thinking but they will never judge or laugh at each other, on the contrary, these same differences can unite them. the conversations will be varied and you will love to talk about your future together to plan it. they may like to play video games together, go out with friends, do things they never dared to do. the other brings out their most intrepid and rebellious side. both accept those sides of the other that were judged by others.

mercury in 3rd house: even if they are introverted people, the conversation between them will be something unique and something that will fascinate them. they are the typical couple that has an open communication, they tell each other everything, from the most profound things to the most trivial, they enjoy each other's company as they do not do with anyone else and there will never be moments of awkward silence. they will think alike and want to know more and more about each other. not talking or being close to the other person can make them sad, they are a boost for the other. both will show each other many new things and admire each other for this.

venus

aquarius venus: your relationship is filled with surprises and you both love keeping each other guessing. this relationship can be a catalyst for dramatic change. you may come into each other’s lives at an unusual time or help each other break away from stagnation. your love is quirky, eccentric, and breaks all the rules of romance. yet you are both sentimental and affectionate in your own ways. you may have your own routines, traditions, or even language when it comes to showing love. you both pride yourselves on breaking tradition. your romance is unorthodox and may be shocking to others, but the excitement keeps you both invested. you each understand the importance of space and breathing room in the relationship as well. neither will crowd the other. yet you can both get into a complicated situation as both partners will want to feel heard and seen but neither of you wants to be vulnerable. be careful not to expect your partner to read your mind.

venus in the 3rd house: the shared pleasure seeking is very much centered in mental things. shared opinions about the type of facts that they will focus on. it's a cerebral venus, not very common in romantic relationships. but there's a lot to share when it comes to world events, small talk, appreciate each other's point of view, even if it's different, it will be always interesting to learn about. they love this in this placement. they can feel their mind appreciated. free will of opinions, thoughts and ideas.

mars

sagittarius mars: the moment they become a couple, both can have a more hopeful vision of the future, they feel more happy and motivated. they both hope to be able to grow together and experience the good and joyful side of love. high sex drive, they make sex fun while at the same time feeling that it takes on a deeper meaning. will love the idea of ​​teaching each other new things in the sexual field and will be very receptive to them. this couple is very open about the differences that may exist between them, they love the idea of ​​knowing all the things that are going through each other's heads. they love to experience things together and can have experiences they never thought they would ever experience. they help each other see things in a different way and dare to feel and try new things. In discussions, both will have their point of view very clear and will try to understand their partner's, they will not want it to escalate and they won’t take the difficulties that arise very seriously.

mars in the 2nd house: physical contact is of utmost importance for both of you, you may want to be close constantly. they can give many gifts to each other spontaneously and have details regardless of whether something is celebrated or not. you may be surprised at how quickly you felt like you wanted to become intimate with each other. there is a lot of sensuality and they focus a lot on making their partner feel pleasure. this couple is motivated to create stability and security for both of them. they can help each other boost their self-esteem, as they will actively value all the good things they perceive about their partner.

celeb's masterlist / 1H - 6H / 7H - 12H

crds:

composite sun

composite moon + house

composite rising

composite mercury

composite venus + house

composite mars

[hannahssimblr]

It’s been a long time since we were three - Jen, Michelle and I, and nobody else. Really it was two first, them, from the first day of junior infants, when children were seated alphabetically. Smythe sat with Tengu, that was the natural order of things, and for them, that was that. 

Plenty of people stay friends with that first kid from that first day, it’s just how it works out. You end up spending eight years or more joined at the hip with that snot nosed kid who borrowed your pencil and chewed off the eraser on the end, or snipped chunks out of your hair with safety scissors. But maybe, even to small children, a special, unbreakable bond is born from the experience of witnessing one another cry softly into your copy books as your parents reverse out of the car park and abandon you in a new, strange place with twenty-nine five year old strangers. 

It worked out well for them, though, Michelle, who was bullied for looking foreign, and Jen, the tiny, confident child who had mastered the art of the creative insult by the time she could speak. Boldly, she stood up to anyone who said a word to her new friend, and no, Tengu isn’t hard to pronounce, you just can’t read. And, by the way, you have chocolate smeared around your mouth. 

I crashed their party in the autumn of 2002, uncomfortable in my first ever uniform, and made to sit down at the back of the room like an inconvenience with maths worksheets while everyone else participated in their Irish lesson. I didn’t even know that Irish was a language before then and thanked my lucky stars that ten years old was considered too late to learn and rendered me exempt, because the thought alone of attempting to make those foreign, hacking sounds at the back of my throat was enough to make me shudder. 

It was Jen, to my left, who nudged me, “are you dyslexic?”

“No, I'm American.”

“What are you doing here then?” 

“I moved.”

“Why?”

I was grateful when the teacher told us to pipe down, because I wasn’t really sure how I was going to answer anyway, but it was only a minute before a piece of folded paper landed on my desk. 

A note.

Did you ever go to Disneyland? Yes No

I circled yes and tossed it back at her. Of course I’ve been to Disneyland, like, five times. My great aunt took me on every single birthday, and I went on all of the rides I was tall enough for. 

The notes didn’t stop, one after another, question after question, and I shrunk a little under her curious gaze at the desk next to me, not really ready to be observed with such intensity, but it didn’t matter what I wanted. Jen wanted answers. 

“Do you have Coronation Street in America?” She said, trailing me into the yard as I tried to find a secluded spot to eat my sandwich.

“Hm? Where’s that?”

She giggled, “What about Quality Street?”

“Are they, like, kinda the same thing?”

“Do you know any WWF wrestlers?”

“I know them on the TV, I guess.”

“But not in real life? Have you met any celebrities?”

“Um, I saw the guy who played Screech on Saved by the Bell one time.”

“I dunno who that is. Anyone else?”

She could be pretty annoying, but disarming and easy to warm to nonetheless, but it was never Jen that was the problem.

It was her best friend Michelle. 

Michelle Tengu didn’t really talk. Kids in the class would try their best to make her say something, they’d ask her if she was mute, which she wasn’t, she was too shy to speak sometimes, and when she did her voice was whisper quiet, which didn’t help.

“What?” Our classmates would bellow, “I can’t hear you, you have to speak up!” and underneath the table her hands would ball into fists and her face would burn furious red. 

Usually kids like Michelle were too much effort for me, I dare say boring, even, I tended to gravitate towards loud, borderline obnoxious types but I quickly learned that wherever my new friend Jen went, Michelle went too, so her presence, I would have to learn to accept.

Once I got over my impatience with Michelle’s quiet nature we tended to get along pretty well, she was the perfect antidote for Jen and I, who would often launch into spirited arguments about stupid things that hardly mattered, but she was so good at being diplomatic, logical, making sense of things that seemed so complicated to us but simple to her. Michelle was very good at being right. All of the time. It was one of the interesting things about her. 

There were other interesting things, of course, which I began to discover during the long, humid summer of 2004. Like the way her hair, long, sleek and black, reflected the sunshine, and her pouty mouth and chestnut brown eyes. Girls weren’t gross to me in that way anymore, especially Michelle.  

It was her house where we hung out, mostly, because my house had a fussy toddler in it and Jen’s parents were weird and always made us participate in chores, but Michelle’s house wasn’t perfect either. Her parents were always hovering within earshot of the living room as we three friends hung out, and they made sure that Michelle’s bedroom was always off limits to me. Jen could go up there all she liked, to fetch a CD or a teen magazine for us to fill out the stupid quizzes, but not me. I had to park myself on that pale blue couch and listen to my friends giggling through the ceiling while Rahim grilled me about my education.

“I don’t get why they’re like that,” Jen would say in consolation when we walked home together after another summer afternoon in the Tengu’s semi detached. “They’re the same with the sleepovers, even though they’d be so much more fun if you were there too. I honestly just don’t get it."

But I did. 

And as time went on the girls would understand too, because by twelve almost everything felt different to the way it felt at ten. There wasn’t only Michelle and her pretty glossy hair anymore, there was Jessie and Alice and Amy, and eventually, my very first girlfriend Holly whose friends used to shove digital cameras into our faces when we tried to kiss at the teenage discos, and who would start dramatic, weekly arguments with me over text message if I dared to so much as ask the girl next to me to borrow a pencil sharpener. 

Things became extra complicated when somebody left a handmade card and a packet of gel pens on my desk for my birthday, which I assumed were from Holly, and thanked her, much to her chagrin, because it hasn’t actually been her, no, she’d bought me tickets to see Dodgeball at the cinema.

It was Michelle. 

Holly insisted that I give them back to her, so I did, with all the sensitivity and tact a newly turned thirteen year old is capable of, which is almost none, and left Michelle standing forlornly in the yard holding the card I had barely read dangling limply from her fingers.

It was her, eventually, who launched a campaign against me after many weeks of being an obliging boyfriend, claiming that I was spending far too much time with Holly and her friends and had forgotten all about those who had welcomed me with their friendship when I was displaced and alone at the beginning, but I didn’t think of it like that. I still wanted to be friends with her and Jen, they were my main friends, but I needed to make time for my new friends too. There was only so much of me to go around, surely, if she were so reasonable, she would understand.

“You don’t care about us at all anymore,” she hissed at me in the school yard with tears in her eyes, “It’s all about Holly and her gang now. Well, she can have you, you don’t have time for anybody else these days.”

She ignored all my attempts to make it up to her, and we only drifted further apart after that, losing ourselves to the new landscape, the new rules of secondary school, finding different interests, different people, different music, ways to dress and express ourselves to spend our time until eventually the only thing we had in common was Jenny Smythe, the girl who had stood in place while we swirled around her, a rock in a churning ocean of teenage angst. If it wasn’t for her, I know I would hardly see Michelle at all. I’d never have to think about her. 

But I do, and now instead of her giggling I hear her sobs through the ceiling of the living room.

Beginning // Prev // Next

Big thank you to @nexility-sims for helping me make sense of this montage scene! It was driving my crazy for weeks <3 <3 <3