#unfair treatment of women

[relatetonothing]

There should be a Chinese national day or memorial commemorating women who lost their lives to unfair and inhumane treatment throughout history

A moment of silence and reflection to all the unimaginable suffering in ancient and imperial China:

- women who were abused mentally and physically, or even murdered by their fathers, as it was legal for them to do such things to their daughters

- the mandatory practice of the Three Obediences, forcing women to be obedient to their fathers in childhood, their husbands in marriage and their sons in widowhood

- women who committed suicide when their husbands died or as a act of preventing rape, as chastity was highly regarded by society and such actions were encouraged and even commemorated by gifts

- women who were buried alive with their dead husbands of high social status (and thus grander burials)

- women who were coerced to stay unmarried after their husband’s deaths and expected to remain filial to his parents for life, even if they treated her poorly. These girls would be seen as impure and hence unsuitable for remarriage, and if they did so would be looked down upon for the rest of her life. There were also periods in history when women lost their dowries and property left to her by her parents to the first husband’s family by law, so she is left with nothing to support herself if he dies and she wishes to leave

- women who were wildly talented but were not allowed to own property but expected to help her husband pay his taxes, receive an education, hold positions in court or do anything other than acts of pleasing or assisting the male population. The famous Ming Dynasty saying ‘a woman without talent is virtuous’ paints the picture

- women whose life’s worth was her ability to bear male heirs

- women who were not allowed outdoors for life because of social norms and died of mental illness. Let’s not forget some were also physically bound to the house via foot binding, which was seen as an erotic symbol by men, but was a practice in which young girls had to break the bones of her feet to have them reshaped and tightly wrapped to less than half its previous size

The fact that fragments of the above carry to the present day is both shocking and revolting!

[saturnniidae]

Forever devastated at the wasted potential of Astrid and Ruffnuts friendship (or lack there of).

[pepprs]

beaver gnawing on wood noises

[mxrobinhearts]

So, y'all know what's happening with Photomatt now, right?

He's being lovebombed by transphobes, overloaded with supportive messages, and sent links to anti-trans articles and podcasts and videos and newspaper columns. He's being told about the toxic TRAs and cancel culture censorship and the violent trans activists who "eat their own".

Sympathic lips are telling him all about "children being sterilised", about "unfairness in women's sports", about autogynephilia, about Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria, about "gay conversion therapy".

And because he's angry, bitter, and has had his ego bruised, he is listening.

He's been in the rare position of a CEO actually subjected to a similar treatment as the people using his service, and he did not care for it. He feels uniquely hounded, he feels alone, he feels deeply wronged. He was an Ally, he did and said all the Right Things. And even still, he was Cancelled, labelled a transphobe.

I don't want to predict the future or guess to Matt Mullenweg's character. I genuinely, deeply hope I'm wrong here. However, if within the next few months, he starts expressing some "legitimate concerns" with trans rights, I will not be the least bit surprised.

[sunniques]

— 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

➺ PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x female reader

➺ GENRE: boyfriend’s dad au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: your boyfriend’s manipulative father helps you get revenge in the nastiest way possible.

➺ CW/TW: yandere themes, slight obsession, age gap, cheating, manipulation, baby trapping, dry humping, panty stealing, mentions of masturbation, wonwoo is a depraved perv, dilf!wonwoo, nipple play, spitting, fingering, some cum play, unprotected sex, squirting, creampies

➺ WC: 4k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read. @wonustars hope you like it <3

Wonwoo is a sick man.

He knows this, he acknowledges it, and most importantly, he hides it.

When people thought of Jeon Wonwoo, they thought of a respectable lawyer, widower, loving father of two. And they were right. He had never done anything to indicate otherwise. Not publicly, anyway. For years he’s hidden his most depraved side without letting anyone know it existed.

His facade all starts to crumble when his son comes home from college with a lovely girl who he’s apparently head over heels for. Wonwoo recognizes the starry eyed look in his son’s eyes, and instead of being happy for him, all Wonwoo can feel is faint disgust and disdain. It’s pathetic and vile, but it’s a feeling that he can’t get rid of no matter what he does.

It gets worse when you start coming around more often, prancing around in your little shorts and skirts like Wonwoo doesn’t get hard just seeing your exposed skin. He’s sick for stealing your dirty panties when you come over and using them to jerk off, but again, he can’t stop his despicable actions. His obsession with you only grows as time goes on, and eventually he decides that he’s going to have you no matter what.

The first step in Wonwoo’s sick plan is showing you just how lavish life is with a man who can provide. He ruthlessly cuts his son off, insisting that getting out in the real world and being independent is necessary. It’s easy to ignore his son’s protests and clamors about how unfair it is that his sister doesn’t get the same treatment, mostly because he sees how fast this strategy works.

When he overhears his son tell you he actually can’t buy you the bag you’ve been wanting he can see the disappointment in your face. Wonwoo is smart enough to know it’s less about the bag and more about the seemingly empty promise. It makes sense since his son can no longer pay for your food or makeup or any clothes you like. His son can’t even get you lavish gifts you’d grown accustom to.

That’s why when your birthday rolls around, you don’t expect much. It’s perfect because you don’t expect to be spoiled which makes your reaction that much sweeter.

“Mr. Jeon!” You cry out in shock when you open the bag your boyfriend’s dad gave you. “I-I don’t know what to say! This is– I mean—Thank you!”

Not only did he gift you an expensive bag that his son had failed to give you, he also got you the biggest bottle of your favorite perfume, some clothes, and a very expensive necklace. Wonwoo smirked smugly when you hugged him, loving how you pressed your entire body against his. His son couldn’t have known, but he saw the way you started to look at him with less appreciation. Of course, it was only natural. After all, all women loved a man who could provide.

The next step was something Wonwoo couldn’t really be blamed for. All he did was have his coworker and her pretty daughter over for dinner when you were away visiting your family. He can’t be to blame for the fact that his son is a weak man who hasn’t truly accepted monogamy. Sure, he did push it along by leaving two college kids alone in a house full of liquor. And yes, he was responsible for them often meeting up whenever you weren’t around, but again, it wasn’t entirely his fault.

The final step to this long winded plan was making sure you found out.

Wonwoo is lucky his daughter has more of a moral compass than he and his son combined. The second she realized what was going on, she didn’t hesitate to tell you. Admittedly, he was saddened to know how heartbroken you initially felt. However, when he saw you again, you seemed void of that. All he could see was your thirst for revenge.

Luckily for you, he was more than willing to help you make that happen.

You still haven’t broken up with Wonwoo’s son, much to his annoyance. In fact, you’re acting like nothing’s wrong even when you come along to their vacation home during the summer. His son is hardly paying you any attention and his daughter has gone off with her friends somewhere, leaving you to your own devices.

“Hey, babe. I’m running to the store real quick. Need anything?” Your boyfriend asks without looking up from his phone.

Before, he would’ve insisted you go with him. Things change, but you don’t care. Not anymore.

“No thanks. Be safe.”

He doesn’t kiss you goodbye, and you’re glad.

Your eyes drift over to Wonwoo, appreciating how good he looks. The perfect idea for revenge had occurred to you a while ago, and with the older man quietly sipping on some liquor on the couch, you know there’s no better time than the present to set your plan in motion.

Boldly, you get up from where you’re sitting and slide onto Wonwoo’s lap. Your panties are already slick with your arousal as you sit directly on his crotch. Dark eyes look at you in surprise when you gently start to grind your panty-clad pussy down without any qualms. All you do is smirk seductively before you go to kiss and suck on Wonwoo’s neck.

“Sweetheart.” Wonwoo groans, cock already hardening because of the wet heat that’s pushing down on him. “What about—?”

“Your son’s an asshole.” You say bluntly. “And I want him to feel as shitty as I do.”

You pull back, expecting Wonwoo to push you off of him or tell you what you’re doing is wrong. Instead he only laughs and goes to kiss you. A quiet squeal escapes you when he starts to lick into your mouth. You’re quick to melt into the kiss, moaning into his mouth when Wonwoo starts to guide your hips down onto his covered cock.

The sound of a car door slamming has you pulling away. You smirk when Wonwoo groans in disapproval. The wet spot you’ve left on his pants only turns you on even more, and all you do is wink at him before running upstairs to the guest room he provided for you.

The rest of the evening goes by without incident, well except for the fact that your boyfriend got a little too drunk on wine and was now passed out on the couch. His sister only looks at him with disgust and announces that she’s going to bed. You know the truth. Earlier, she confessed that she was going to sneak out to go clubbing with her friends. This was perfect since you were going to need her gone to execute your plan.

“Goodnight, Mr. Jeon.” You purr as you stretch your arms over your head, noticing his eyes drift down you where your skirt had ridden up.

You don’t bother to hide your smirk as you go upstairs. As soon as you get to the room, you leave the door open, slipping out of your clothes and putting on a tiny night shirt that came just above your belly button. You get on the bed and settle on your side, cunt still thrumming with arousal. All you can think about is getting fucked raw by your boyfriend’s dad, and you hope he hurries up and gives you what you want.

Slowly, you slide your hand into your panties, teasing your fingers across your swollen clit. It’s easy to lose yourself to the pleasure. Especially since your mind can’t stop replaying what happened earlier in the day. God, was Mr. Jeon a good kisser. Way better than his pathetic son. You mewl quietly, wishing the ache between your legs was being soothed by someone else.

Wonwoo almost cums in his pants when he sees you on the bed. You’re only wearing a small shirt and panties, which makes it easy to see what you’re doing. He smirks, slowly undressing himself as he approaches you. It’s funny how you don’t notice him until he slides in right behind you.

“Need some help?”

You pussy throbs in excitement, and before you can answer him, you feel his hand slip down your body to cover the one you have in your panties. The mewl you let out makes his cock twitch and throb. Wonwoo holds back a groan, ready to have you in the way he’s dreamed of for months.

“You have to be quiet, sweetheart.” His breath fans against your ears. “I can’t have my kids walking in on us when we’re just getting started.”

You almost tell him his sweet little daughter is out partying with her friends so there’s no real reason to keep quiet, but you resist. After all, no one would be able stop you from fucking the insanely hot man playing with your pussy.

“So fucking wet.” Wonwoo whispers hotly. “What were you thinking about?”

“You.” It’s easy to admit, especially because you can tell how much he likes it. “And how fucking wrong this all is.”

Wonwoo hums, and it somehow seems like he’s gloating. His fingers circle your throbbing clit over and over until you’re squirming against him. “Maybe, but you like it. That’s why you’re dripping all over my hand. You like your boyfriend’s dad playing with your pussy that much, huh, baby?”

“Fuck yeah.” You hiss, eyes falling closed when he pinches your wet clit. “You’re so fucking hot, Mr. Jeon. Way better than your pussy ass son.”

Wonwoo’s dick presses against your ass as he rolls his hips to grind against you. Juices gush from your cunt as he groans into your neck. “I fucking knew it—I’ve always known it. Even before you were grinding your wet pussy on me.”

You bite your lip, slightly embarrassed that he knew you were attracted to him this entire time. It’s not like you can be blamed. He’s one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen, and obviously he felt some bit of attraction for you as well.

“Roll over and show me those pretty tits, baby.” Wonwoo rasps in your ear.

His words has more of your arousal coating his long fingers. You’re feeling hot all over, and you don’t hesitate to comply. You twist your body before you pull your shirt up to let your tits free. Immediately, your nipples harden under his dark gaze

“That’s it.” Wonwoo groans deeply as he rubs your pussy harder. “Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen. Fuck. Makes me want to suck on them until you’re creaming all over my fingers.”

You moan and arch your back into him. Wonwoo licks his lips and stops rubbing your pussy to pull off your panties. He grabs his cock and rubs it along your pussy. You cry out quietly when you feel his hot cock skip between your wet folds and drag against your clit and dripping hole. By now you’re panting, hips writhing from the stimulation. Wonwoo drags wet fingers up to pinch your taut nipples.

“You’ll let me suck on your sweet tits, won’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You agree immediately, feeling an arousing thrill when Wonwoo lets out a deep groan.

He twists your upper body some more until your back is against the mattress. Your hips are still twisted at an angle so his cock can keep rubbing against your pussy. The position isn’t uncomfortable, and you watch with anticipation as Wonwoo ducks his head to drag his mouth across the swell of your breasts. His eyes never leave yours when his mouth dips down to suck on one of your sensitive nipples. As you feel the hot wet suction, your eyes slip close with a whine.

You grind your cunt down on Wonwoo’s cock, dripping slick all over him. He moans against you nipple as he slowly drags his dick back and forth to stimulate you. The head of his cock leaks precum making your pussy messier and stickier. You drag your hand through Wonwoo’s hair, sighing and mewling as his hot mouth suckles on your hard bud.

“Fuck, just like that!” You mewl, arching your back to shove more of your tit into his mouth.

The next time he catches your gaze, you can see his pupils blown wide and a light blush spread across his face. It’s so attractive that more of your arousal drips onto his cock. Wonwoo then sucks a bruise on the curve of your breast, teeth gently digging into the soft skin. You gasp at the dull ache, pussy clenching around nothing.

“So fucking sweet.” His voice is low and raspy, tongue lapping at the bruise he left behind.

You whine and arch up into him more. “S-Shit, Mr. Jeon. This is so fucking dirty.”

He just grins at you wickedly, hips swirling against you so his cock brushes against your throbbing clit. Wonwoo starts to press wet kisses on your tits tenderly, dark eyes never leaving yours. “It is, and yet you still like it. That’s why you’re not trying to be quiet. You want my son to know your little pussy is aching for my cock.”

You moan loudly when he starts to roughly suck on your other nipple. He’s not bothering to keep his own moans quiet as he swaps back and forth between your nipples until they’re both puffy and sore. As he works his teeth and tongue on your hard buds, he grinds his cock up against your slick hole making you part your legs further.

“I know you want it, baby.” Wonwoo says after he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your tits. He rubs his leaking tip against your clit to hear you moan again. “Want me to split you open on my fat cock, hm? I’ll show you how a real man fucks.”

“Fuck—please.” You whimper desperately. “Need you to fuck me, Mr. Jeon.”

“Call me Wonwoo, sweetheart.” He groans as he gets up and positions you so you’re fully on your back.

You mewl when Wonwoo rests his dick on your stomach. The sight is dizzying in the best way—an arousing image of how deep he’ll reach inside you once he slides into your pretty pussy. His leaking tip is almost to your belly button, and he wishes badly that he could take a picture. Wonwoo licks his lips as slowly rubs his cock through your slippery folds, covering it with your juices. His fat tip brushes against your clit and makes you whine.

You moan when he eases his cockhead past your slick folds. The squeeze of your hot cunt is tight, and it makes Wonwoo roll his hips into yours, fucking himself deeper into your clenching pussy.

“Wonwoo!” You mewl, already feeling so full even though he’s not even all the way inside.

Just hearing you moan his name has him thrusting forward and burying his cock balls deep inside your wet pussy with a deep growl. You cry out loudly, tits bouncing at his roughness. Wonwoo’s large palm immediately covers your mouth, cock throbbing inside you.

“Shh, baby. You don’t want us to get caught do you? What would my son say is he walked in and saw his dad fucking his girlfriend’s tight little cunt?”

You moan against his hand, pussy clamping down on his dick tighter than before. Wonwoo clicks his tongue, slowly grinding deeper into you. The thought turns him on too, more than he would ever admit.

“Oh? You like that?” He hums as you buck your hips up to meet his slow thrusts. “What a dirty little slut.”

Wonwoo keeps your mouth covered as he slowly fucks your cunt. All you can focus on is how stretched open your pussy feels. You keep whining and moaning as he bullies his cock into your fluttering hole. Even though they’re muffled, the cute little noises you’re making are driving Wonwoo closer to the edge.

“You’re so fucking tight, sweetheart.” Wonwoo groans. “Feels like you’ve never had a cock this big stuffing your little pussy.”

Wanting to hear you, he removes his hand.

You shake your head before you moan out an answer. “You’re the biggest—fuck—I’ve ever had.”

Wonwoo’s cock twitches inside you as he goes to cover your mouth with his. You two share a series of wet kisses between your filthy moans. His thick cock keeps rutting into your squelching pussy and slamming into the spongy spot inside your cunt that makes you keep tightening around him. At this point your mind has gone fuzzy. All you can think about is the man on top of you and the orgasm coiling in the pit of your stomach thanks to him.

In the haze of skin slapping together and the arousing scent of sex, Wonwoo feels like he’s found heaven. He’s absolutely thrilled to have you how he’s wanted since he first saw you. After months of planning, he finally has you trembling on his cock. Wonwoo groans lowly when you squeeze even tighter around him. You whine, moving your hips to meet his thrusts.

Wonwoo smirks when he sees your fucked out expression. He can’t care that his son is passed out downstairs while he’s quite literally fucking his sweet little girlfriend’s brains out. It’s what you deserved after all the hell his idiot spawn put you through.

“Looks like you’re already addicted to my cock, baby.” His laugh is so attractive that it makes your pussy flutter.

A deep pleasure shoots up your spine as Wonwoo fucks you hard and deep, plunging his cock into your sopping cunt. You cry out his name, feeling a pleasure you never have before. His hand moves between your bodies to flick and rub your sensitive clit.

“God, sweetheart. Fucking love how your sweet cunt squeezes my cock.” He groans in delight.

Wonwoo’s fingers keep rubbing your sensitive clit until your back arches off the bed. Wet slapping and loud squelching fills the room as the coil in your stomach abruptly snaps. Your legs clamp around his slim waist at the same time your cunt tightens around his dick, milking him for all he’s worth as your arousal gushes around his throbbing length.

“That’s it, baby. Milk this fucking cock.” Wonwoo growls as his hands spread you open even more. “Fuck. I’m gonna fill you with my cum and watch it spill out of your pretty pussy.”

You whine out, wanting nothing more. “Yes! Fill my pussy with your cum!”

Wonwoo growls into your skin, ramming his dick straight into your sweet spot until he reaches his own climax. With a loud moan of your name, he spills his hot cum inside your cunt. Thick ropes of his seed paint your walls as he keeps stuffing you full until it leaks out around his cock.

It feels like you’re stuck in a blissful haze, and it’s only until Wonwoo slowly pulls out of you that you come back to your senses. His eyes are dark as he watches his cum slowly drip out of you. It’s an erotic sight, you’re sure, and you can’t help but want more.

“Wonwoo.” Your voice comes out in a sigh. “Think you can go again?”

The older man groans in his throat. You’re insatiable, and so is he. Fuck. He knew you were perfect for him.

“For you? Always.”

Your eyes roll back when the bulbous tip of his length nudges your tender pussy. Wonwoo smirks and presses forward. His aching cock penetrates you in one deep thrust. Large hands hold down your squirming hips as he sheathes his big cock to the hilt. Wonwoo groans when your juices spill around his girth. He leans back and lets a string of spit falls straight onto your pussy. The filthy action makes you moan wantonly.

“Your sweet little cunt is driving me crazy, sweetheart.” Wonwoo hisses as you clench around him.

Your hot cunt is pulsing and soaking his cock as if you’re claiming it as your own. It makes him smirk. Wonwoo keeps pounding into your creamy cunt until only lewd squelching and pornographic moans fill the room. He can’t even think about his son anymore. All he cares about is splitting you open and molding your tight pussy to fit the shape of his dick.

“You just love this cock, don’t you, baby?” Wonwoo moans.

“I do—Fuck. Feels so fucking good!” Your voice is loud, and you’re both beyond the point of caring. “I love your cock. Love how you fuck my little pussy.”

His fat cock is splitting you open deliciously, weeping tip reaching your cervix with every strong pound of his hips. You’re already close again, and you know this next orgasm is going to be more intense than the last. Wonwoo seems to feel it too because he keeps driving his cock into you savagely until your thighs are trembling around him. His cock is piercing directly into your g-spot then drawing out, letting you feel every vein before plowing back into your sopping mess. His rough thrusts never lose their strength or depth. Not when you scream and convulse around his cock.

“God, you’re such a nasty slut.” Wonwoo groans. “You don’t even care that your boyfriend can wake up any moment and find you dripping all over his dad’s cock.”

You manage to smirk at him. “He has no right to be angry. Not when you’re fucking me better than he ever did.”

Wonwoo smirks back at you, thrusting deeper if possible. Your depraved words make a sick thrill shoot straight to his cock. It turns him on more than it should. Dark eyes are glued to your sopping cunt. The sight of you stretching to take his cock is so hot that he almost cums right then.

“Oh my god!” You cry out as your pulsing walls constrict around the dick ramming into you.

You let out a loud cry when Wonwoo’s spit lands where you two are connected. A guttural groan escapes him when your pussy squeezes his throbbing cock and your juices spill all over him. You topple over the edge he’s been pushing you toward, squirting all over his cock and abdomen. Your release covers him, dripping down his cock and to his heavy balls.

“Cum in me!” You plead loudly. “Stuff me full again!”

Wonwoo’s fat cock keeps sliding along your convulsing walls. The tip of his cock slams into your spot unrelentlessly, making you see stars. You keep falling apart as the older man uses your body how he wants.

“Just look at your pretty little pussy, squirting all over this cock like you own it.” Wonwoo’s grin looks wolfish and unfairly attractive. “Now I have to fill your slutty pussy like I own it.”

Wonwoo groans your name deeply. His hips are flush between your thighs as he presses to the hilt, his fat cockhead rutting into your most sensitive spot. Your toes curl tightly as you scream out his name once again. All you can see, feel, and think about is your boyfriend’s dad. His hot cum fills you up, coating every inch of your wet walls, stuffing you to the brim.

The older man falls forward a bit and buries his face in your neck, biting your sweaty skin and fucking his cum deeper into you. In your aroused daze, you can’t recognize how intoxicated he is over the feeling of you and your tight cunt.

When Wonwoo finally he pulls out, his hand lands on your tingling core. He cranes his neck to watch his fingers enter your hole. Licking his lips, he gently fucks his cum back inside you and gently toys with your messy pussy. Growls rumble in his chest as his cum slips out of you and down to your smaller puckered hole. The sight makes his cock twitch and ache all over again.

“My cute little slut.” Wonwoo coos as you slowly start to drift off to sleep. “All nice and bred—just like I’ve always dreamed.”

You look precious while you sleep, and Wonwoo can’t help but feel completely satisfied that he came inside you while you were ovulating. His son was such an idiot for not cherishing you how you deserved, but it was for the best.

Now you were all his. Only his.

[sparklingchim]

game on | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warnings: koo gets scolded for sleeping around 🥺, playboy jk <3, hints of a threesome 🫢, oc fights w a laundry machine

summary: jungkook is in desperate need to polish up his playboy image, and naturally, he turns to you for help.

a/n: hii my pretty besties!!!! it's my bday😋 so i wanted to share this silly piece i've been having so much fun writing!!! love uuu n treat urself to smth nice for me today <3 mwah😙

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Jeon Jungkook is a charming man – and he is well aware of the fact. He plays that card effortlessly.

Most of the time, it works in his favour.

But sometimes, it backfires spectacularly and gets him into trouble.

Which is why he stands in front of his fuming manage, who is radiating enough anger to fill the entire office.

The sight isn’t foreign to Jungkook. He wouldn’t say he is used to it, but he has found himself often enough in this situation to recognise the signs of deep trouble.

Not only is Jungkook’s charm complicating things, but the fact that he is famous too.

Sometimes, he uses that as an advantage. Not in an obvious way — never by flaunting his own achievements or demanding special treatment.

That’s not his style.

His name alone carries weight, and he knows how to let it work for him, quietly bending the world to his will... until the world pushes back.

And right now, it’s pushing back hard.

One thing Jeon Jungkook does enjoy about being a pro footballer, though, is the way women obsess over him.

He knows they love him – sees it in the comments they leave on his ig posts, sees it in the DMs flooding his inbox daily, and experiences it firsthand at public events, where hordes of fans scream his name. Jungkook thrives on that attention.

However, something he doesn’t love, and what he was never prepared for, is the media. The way they scrutinise his every move, how his face ends up on every headline anytime he does something remotely noteworthy.

And now, thanks to his latest shenanigan getting caught by the press, here he is. Standing in front of his manager, Taesung, and his PR agent, Jiwoo, eyes downcast, bracing himself for the scolding that’s already begun.

“You’ve gone too far this time, Jungkook.”

His manager speaks in a flat, monotonous voice, void of even the slightest hint of disappointment, as if he’d long since given up expecting anything different.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean up the mess you leave behind?”

A sense of guilt creeping up on Jungkook, even though he knows if he were just a regular guy, none of this would matter at all. And he finds it a bit unfair.

But to survive in this business, you can’t complain about unfairness.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Taesung barks.

Jungkook remains silent. He forces himself to.

“If there was more involved than just alcohol-”

“No! Nothing like that,” he denies, his response firm and immediate. “It was just alcohol – and, well, just good vibes because we won the last match, and with the World Cup being next, everyone was just really excited.”

If he had known what kind of trouble a simple, innocent celebration of his team’s win at a club would bring, he would’ve gone straight home yesterday. He would’ve skipped the rounds of drinks, the flashing lights, the loud music, and definitely the attention. But hindsight was useless now.

“Good,” his manager says. “I’m glad you were happy.” Mock sympathy drips from his voice. “Perhaps the last time you are going to be happy this year.”

Jungkook nods, accepting the gravity of the situation. No more clubs, no more parties, no more girls.

At least, not for a while. His reputation had taken a few hits recently, and this latest mess wasn’t helping. He could almost hear the whispers: reckless, irresponsible, unprofessional. The kind of things that could ruin him if he didn’t get a handle on it.

He clenched his jaw. No more distractions. From now on, it was all about the game. He needed to remind everyone why he was Jeon Jungkook — the best on the field, not just the headlines.

“You’re no longer in for the World Cup. You’re out.”

His head snaps up at that. Did he hear that right?

“What?! What do you mean?”

“Myungbo doesn’t want you on the team anymore.” Taesung’s words sound heavy and final.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his ears.

His world tilts. The room seems to spin, the edges of his vision darkening. This wasn’t just a setback — it was a disaster. The World Cup was everything to him, and now it felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The crushing weight of the news settles on his chest, making it hard to breathe. One silly night is all that happened.

He can’t believe that a single photo of him leaving the club with two girls clinging to each arm has cost him his spot on the national football team. He went home with two girls – so what?

But he doesn’t voice his frustration. He knows better than to add fuel to the fire. Speaking his mind now would only escalate the situation and make things worse. Jungkook knows from experience.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to stay calm. His pulse is still racing, but he takes a deep breath, focusing on controlling his emotions. He has to keep a level head if he’s going to find a way to fix this.

“There has to be a way to fix this.” His eyes move to Jiwoo, his PR agent. “Right?”

His manager fixes him with a stern glare. “Jungkook, remember the promise you gave everyone a few months ago?” Taesung reminds him.

Jungkook cringes. When he made a promise to avoid actions that might damage his reputation, he didn’t think it’d be that serious. He cut back on going out, made the effort to play the role of the “good boy” but really – come on. He can’t maintain that facade for an eternity. Especially after a triumphant victory like yesterday’s.

Taking away his spot on the national football team? He didn’t think that was possible.

“How many more times do we have to fix your problems, because you don’t care enough? How many times do we have to repeat this scenario?”

“I promise I’ll better myself,” he pleads desperately, looking back and forth between his manager and his PR agent. Someone has to believe him, help him.

“Do you genuinely believe this country wants to be represented by a 20-year-old boy, who can’t keep his personal life under control?” Taesung asks, eyebrows deeply pinched together. “This isn’t just about you, Jungkook. It’s about the team, the fans, and the nation. They need a role model, not a scandal waiting to happen.”

“I know. I know.” Jungkook scrambles for something convincing to say, desperate to sway their decision. This can’t be it. He won’t let his career take a hit because of something like this. “But – but this isn’t too bad. This is fixable. I can fix this.” His voice quivers with a desperation he barely recognises as his own. “Jiwoo.” Jungkook turns to her with pleading eyes. “You always know what to do. Please, help me”

“I did propose an idea but-”

“We’re not doing that,” Taesung cuts in. “It’s off the table.”

“What is it?” Jungkook’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. “I’ll do anything. This is – this is everything to me. You have to give me a chance.”

Taesung scoffs. “A chance? As far as I know, you have been given countless chances.”

Sweat coats the back of Jungkook’s neck.

Taesung understands just how much Jungkook has fought to secure his place on the national team. He’s well aware that it’s one of Jungkook’s greatest dreams, a pinnacle of his career that he’s poured countless hours of hard work and sacrifice into. That’s why, each morning, when he wakes up to the latest news of Jungkook’s escapades, he feels a deep sense of disappointment, texting Jungkook with a dejected shake of his head to visit his office first thing in the morning.

When it’s all he wants, like Jungkook claims, why doesn’t he act like it?

“If the head coach won’t give me a chance now, he’ll never do. This is my last opportunity to change his mind, make him rethink. I need to at least try.”

Jiwoo looks at the manager, waiting for his approval. He nods.

“Very simply put: you need a girlfriend,” she says.

For a second, Jungkook is at loss for words.

“A girlfriend? How’s that going to help?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. This is not how he thought Jiwoo was going to save him.

“You need a girlfriend to help polish up your image as a player. It’ll make you appear more like a gentleman, softer and nicer. We need to completely shift public perception and counter the negative image they’ve formed about you. It’s all about changing the narrative,” she explains.

“And that is not something we can easily achieve,” Taesung interjects. “Rebranding your entire persona is not feasible at this stage. You’ve been projecting what kind of boy you are to the media for the past two years. It’s going to be incredibly difficult to make a sudden shift look genuine.”

“No! We — I can make it seem real. This is my only chance,” Jungkook insists, his voice gaining a hint of determination. For a moment, breathing feels a bit easier again. “The World Cup is just a month away. That’s enough time to shift public opinion and prove I’m worthy of representing the country on the team.” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he speaks, clinging to the belief that he might not have to bid farewell to his biggest dream after all.

But his manager doesn’t look as hopeful as Jungkook feels.

“How are we going to find a girl who will agree to this? Someone who isn’t an obsessive fan, understands this is purely professional, and can keep quiet? You won’t be able to pull this off.”

“I was actually thinking-” Jiwoo starts, but she’s cut off.

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between them before speaking. “Actually... I think I already have someone in mind.” His voice is more measured now. “That’s not the issue.” Jungkook doesn’t need to think twice.

Taesung sighs while Jiwoo looks at Jungkook apologetically.

“You can’t rebrand your entire persona from a playboy to a lover boy within a month, Jungkook. This is over.” His manager shakes his head, a sense of finality glimmering in his eyes.

One thing that Jungkook forgot to mention is that he is an extremely competitive man, too.

~

“This is ridiculous.”

You kick the laundry machine in frustration, but all you end up doing is yelping and clutching your aching foot.

“That’s the third time this month,” you mutter under your breath. “What did I even spend all that money on if it’s just going to break down whenever it feels like it?”

You shoot a death glare at the machine, teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

“Guess I’ll have to use the public laundromat again,” you sigh, grabbing the overflowing laundry basket filled with your and your roommate's clothes, and heading out of the bathroom with a huff.

On your way to the front door, the doorbell rings.

Please, you think. You were hoping for some quiet, uninterrupted time to deep-clean your dorm on this peaceful Sunday with no one around.

But when you peek through the peephole and see Jungkook standing there, your frustration melts away. You swing the door open, the laundry basket tumbling to the floor beside you in your haste.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “You’re timing is perfect! Can you please fix my laundry machine again? It’s been acting up, and I’m getting frustrated.” You groan annoyed.

Jungkook doesn’t share the same excitement upon seeing you.

You grow smaller and take an indecisive step back.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the tension in his features. “Did you lose the match yesterday? I couldn’t keep up because I had too much cramming to do last night.”

While studying medicine had always been your dream, the reality is less exciting. Right now, it means sleepless nights and relentless pressure. You know that pursuing this path will offer you many privileges later in life, but you have to suffer first.

“I need your help.”

His dark eyes, usually bright and full of energy, seem clouded with worry, and his hair falls messily over his forehead, like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times in frustration.

“Are you okay?” You study him closely, scanning his face for any signs of injury. Physically, he seems fine — still tall, muscular, and as fit as ever. But something is clearly off.

“You need to do something for me.”

“I can help,” you reply, your voice soft with concern. ‘But what is it…?”

“Can you be my girlfriend?”

You blink, repeatedly.

“Huh?”

You start giggling when he doesn’t add more. You expect him to clarify or laugh along, but Jungkook stays serious, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his. You look down at them, then back up at his face, utterly bewildered.

“You’re silly, Jungkook. If someone on the team made you do this, tell them you did the punishment and quit acting so weird.”

It’s too early in the morning for Jungkook’s nonsense.

“No, ___, you don’t understand.” He squeezes your hands when he feels you trying to pull them back. “I actually need you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Fake date me.”

[6ronze]

WOMAN3AT3R!

𝒥𝐸𝒩𝒩𝐼𝐹𝐸𝑅𝒮 𝐵𝒪𝒟𝒴!fem!reader w her first victim : professor!nanami kento. warning(s): smut [18+] w little plot, intentional bimbo behaviour on ur part, unethical nanami, reader is in college, age gap (20’s & 30’s), possessed!reader duh, brief gore & cannibalistic descriptions, sir kink, grinding, eye-fucking, not proofread. wc is 2.3k

𝑁𝐴𝑆𝑇𝑌 chemistry professor at your school was notorious for failing most of the students in his class. But everyone around knew he’d slip in a pass any girl cute and desperate enough to bargain with him. Disliking his unfairness, you planned to use your looks to your advantage in order to ‘correct’ his ways.

nanami kento.

You’ve been hearing that name for the past 7 minutes you entered the building of your university. Students groaned and cursed his name, some lucky others giggling at his kind treatment towards them. Well, the only thing in common among those lucky few were that they were all women. At this point, coincidence wasn’t something you thought was involved anymore.

shrugging past the people crowding the damn place with ease, your eyes drifted to the signs on the top by the doors to each room, paying special attention to one specific office with nanami’s name. Your head tilted as you peaked in through the small slit of the parted door, gaze landing on the infamous professor.

He wasn’t bad looking, you noted. No, not bad looking at all. But sadly he had a bad tendency to allow passes to women willing to sleep with him, his flaw in his work ethic pissing you off. The fact that he was a man abusing his responsibilities to grade students unfairly at the cost of sex made you scowl internally with disgust.

So you decided to teach him a lesson—like all the creepy professors you did before him.

Onto your chemistry lecture, you entered his class, choosing to sit back up the higher rows of the auditorium. Of course the choice of your seat was strategic, meant to tease him from afar, catch his interest. And as the hours passed, it became more evident how you did exactly that.

The blond man had his eyes drifting upwards to you more often than he usually would, taking any chance he could to catch a glimpse of your cleavage, tits threatening to spill out from the low cut of your shirt with how much you leaned and rested your chest on your arms.

Fuck, you had him stuttering mid lecture with how unintentionally distracted he was from the sight of the innocent smiles your flashed him when your eyes met, the way you twirled a finger around strands of your hair. He cursed you for making him lose his train of thought, brows furrowing furthering with every passing minute in aching curiosity to know who the hell you were.

when his god forsaken lecture ended, you lingered, unmoving from your seat as if you knew for a fact that he would ask you to stay for a while.

And lo and behold, your predictions came true.

“Excuse me, miss. Would you mind if I had a small chat with you for a moment?” His smooth yet deep voice called out to you, his tone levelled but hinted with a hint of stoicism that would leave anyone wondering with anticipation.

You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at the way he tilted his head up to look at you, eyes scrutinising you shamelessly now that everyone else was gone. Fucking pervert.

“Yes, sir,” you purred in response, lips curling to a knowing smile. You revelled in the way the professor’s nose twitched, scrunching up for a mere moment at the way you addressed him.

Sir.

It wasn’t anything special, nothing new to him. But the way it rolled of your tongue so naturally, so sultry, made his cock jerk ever so subtly in his pants.

Your brow quirked when noticed his reaction, exhaling a sigh as you got up from your seat, not bothering to grab your things with you on your way down. Nanami went back to his desk, taking a seat and gesturing a hand to have her take a seat across him. But of course, you denied his offer, opting for a closer seat.

“What’s your name? I’ve never seen you in my classes before.”

You answered with your name while grabbing a chair to sit beside him, eyes never leaving his in the process. “Why? Am I in trouble, sir?” You taunted, leaning forward in your seat to give him a better view of your plump breasts, the angle letting him have a glimpse of them under your shirt.

No bra, the aroused professor noticed, averting his gaze quickly after to avoid suspicion.

“No, not at all. I’m just curious as to why you’ve decided to join my classes now of all times. Why not just skip for the entire year, yeah?” Nanami responded, sharp eyes assessing you with frightening attention. He brought his arms up to his chest, folding them tightly enough to flex the muscles underneath his clothes.

“Well.. I’ve heard you’re known for being.. resilient with the marks you give to selected students..” you began, trailing off with a meek smile, cheeks heating up on command to sell the dumb little girl act. “And I’ve been struggling with this subject specifically lately.. I just thought you’d be able to help me,” you pleaded shyly, voice growing fainter as you neared the end of your sentence.

Nanami on the other hand squeezed a hand on his bicep tight, hips shifting slightly in discomfort at the growing erection he had. As if he wasn’t turned on enough, your timidness mixed along with your lewdness had his cock pulsating against the restrictions of his pants. How he wanted to get him hands on you right then and there, laying you on his desk and burying himself deep into your wet heat.

But he held back, not wanting to scare off what seemed to was a poor girl trying to manage her grades.

“Then.. you know what you have to do right? I’m sure you’ve heard from.. the others,” he questioned, tilting his head slightly as he met your eyes for a moment, making sure you knew what you were getting yourself into.

Staying in character, you nodded at him, thighs rubbing against one another impatiently. Quickly after, nanami laid back into his desk chair, arms unfolding and resting on the armrests with his eyes fixated on your still. It was like he was instructing you through his gaze alone, and even you couldn’t deny the allure this man had despite his wrongs.

You got up from your seat and took patient steps close to him, climbing onto his lap to straddle him. His hands made their way to your hips almost immediately after you settled on him, spreading your legs wide and nestling your clothed pussy right onto his hard on.

The blond professor had his eyes undressing you, not making any effort to strip you despite himself. He wanted to see how you’d go on about pleasure, using his body to get yourself off. He wanted to know what you preferred. Though he was as unfair as he was, he was always attentive to his chosen girls, making sure they enjoyed their time just as much as he was. For him, pleasure goes both ways. And seeing his partner in ecstasy because of him was his mission in these affairs he would have.

“Go ahead. Hump, grind, jerk me off if you please,” he urged coolly, stern gaze glazed with desire. His hand squeezed your hips assuringly, coaxing your compliance. And being a good student you were, you obliged, beginning to rock your hips into him, feeling up the ridge of pants.

“Mmhm.. yes, sir,” you breathed, lashes fluttering with your gaze fixated on the space between your bodies where your hips met his, skirt hiking up with the help of your hand to expose your damp pussy sliding back and forth on his clothed cock.

Your eyes began alternating between nanami’s pulsating cock beneath you and his face, taking in the sight of the ever so strict professor melting in your hands. Just now, maybe, did you finally understand a bit the girls that kept coming back to him even after he passed their grades. His flushed face and parted lips made you feel in control, even though you knew he was the one that truly held the reins.

Soft growls left his throat from the foreplay, thighs tensing under yours at your grinding. You could feel your slick escape the fabric of your panties, staining his black trousers.

The subtle jumps of his dick made you curious, persuading you to quicken the pace and travel a hand down to his fly, unzipping his pants and tugging it down along with his boxers to release his heavy cock. It sprung out with the tip an angry shade of red, drooling precum with its pulsating tip. You cooed at the sight, wrapping a hand around it.

Your started off with slow, long strokes, earning hitched groans from the man’s throat. You repeated the act, twisting and squeezing his thick girth just enough to coax more of his clear fluids until it dripped down to touch your hand. Your thumb rubbed over the head, gathering and smearing the pre all over his inflamed flesh.

“Enough of this, girl. Do what you came here to do,” nanami grunted, gravelly voice letting out a subtle growl right after. His fingers had been clawing on the flesh of your hips impatiently every since you took his cock in your hand, hips subtly shifting to thrust up into your smaller palm.

“Getting needy?” you teased with a sly grin, chuckling at his response; a hoarse fuck you.

With a soft sigh, you lifted yourself up from his thighs, obliging to his rough pleading. You positioned yourself so you were hovering right above his dick, his dull nails digging insistently into your skin barely restraining himself from just slamming you down onto his weeping length. He could do it easily, burying himself deep into you impatiently with an easy snap of your panties.

But he held back. Nanami continued to watch, your dominant hand moving down between your thighs to pull aside your lacy panties, fingers grazing the wet tip of his cock unintentionally, making him shudder. The damp fabric you tugged on exposed a glimpse of the wet pussy he was about to sink himself into, the sight making his loin heat up in a knot.

“Fuck, your so wet for me, darling. What’s that about me being needy again, hm?” Nanami’s eyes darting from your tantalising cunt to your face, quirking a challenging brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you uttered with faux innocence, spreading your legs wider before lowering yourself on him, rubbing your glistening folds against his sensitive flesh. That shut him up quickly, for just a bit though. Because right after, his features slowly contorted in pleasure, deep moans leaving his throat along with low rumbles in his chest when you began sinking yourself down his shaft, your wet heat fluttering around him with every inch you took.

Nanami huffed, gasping a few short breaths before uttering a forced, “Yes, you do, princess. You’d know every-fucking-thing about being needy, wouldn’t you?”

You merely exhaled a heavy breath with half-hearted laughs in between, his hands guiding and helping you bounce on his heavy dick, fingers tucked under your shirt as his own hips rolled upwards to meet yours. Nothing but pants and groans filled the spacious hall, echoes of the professor’s eager moans bouncing off the walls along with your own whines.

You couldn’t help but lose your composure all the while fucking him, your motive lost in your hazy mind now that his blunt tip was abusing that one sweet spot of yours that other men had barely even reached—let alone discovered.

The filthy words of encouragement slipping past your oh-so-prim and proper professor rent surges of arousal throughout your body in shocks you didn’t even know were possible, your vision disturbed by the unshed tears pooling in your eyes.

Even with your entire body melting on his lap right now, the thought of devouring him whole never slipped past your mind, though it almost did. Fluttering your lashes to keep then open, you gazed at the blond man in front of you with his face flushed a deep shade of red, hips rutting up into you to chase his inevitable orgasm, and yours.

How could you possibly resist the inhumane urge in yourself that gnawed at you, whispered the most gruesome ways you could have him to yourself. Sinking your teeth into his bobbing throat, marking him so deeply that he’d question your true intentions, making him wonder if he was fucking a pitiful student or a serial killer. The mere thought brought you to the edge of ecstasy, pussy sucking his cock deeper into your depths while he dragged your body up and down on his aching dick like a fleshlight.

“For fuck’s sake— why’re you so impossibly tight,” the heaving man gritted, veins on his neck bulging till they reached his clenched jaw, jerking into you now that he could feel his balls begin to tighten. He was so close too soon. He wanted to try holding back but you were taking him so good he couldn’t even slow down, your lewd moans and squelches of your sopping cunt urging him to continue.

Before you could muster the energy to compose yourself to answer, one last snap of his hips had his cock spewing hot ropes of cum, the warmth of the thick fluid invading your pussy startling you. But it also brought on your own climax, your walls spasming around him uncontrollably all the while your juices spilled around his pulsating length.

You collapsed onto his larger body with ease, his raising chest welcoming you nicely. The professor basked in the afterglow of your shared climax, his arms wrapped around your quivering body in an effort to soothe you and himself.

Your breathes began to even out, regaining your composure after a moments of rest. He calmed down just as well, his chest no longer heaving. You took the opportunity to lift your head up from his chest, leaning in to his shoulder instead, turning to leave sloppy kisses on the side of his neck until you reached his ear.

“Maybe we should meet up again tonight, hm? Continue this little.. rendezvous,” you whispered sweetly against the shell of his ear, blowing a soft breath to tickle him a bit.

“What do you say, handsome?” You coaxed, lips curling to a devious smile with your eyes gleaming with levelled murderous intent. You knew just the place to have your nightly meal with him. Obviously, he was main course.

Figuratively. And literally.

[dashitsxx]

don't you ignore me | bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

summary. Maybe if Bakugo wasn't being a piece of shit to you, you wouldn't ignore and be bothered by his treatment towards you. However, you need to make him realize his actions, yet his temper always creates the most unexpected outcomes.

genre. angst. explicit smut. 18+

word count. 1.7k

warnings. dubcon. in an established relationship. adult!bakugo. hero!bakugo. citizen!reader. lots of cursing. arguments. aggressive behaviour. bitter and painful words (bakugo). communication issues. hints of possessiveness. a bit of egoistic behavior. degradation. dominance. manhandling. fingering. cunnilingus. slight choking.

disclaimer. Please note that this work is entirely fictional. It is not intended to condone, glorify, or encourage any form of violence, illegal activity, or harmful behaviour. All characters (credits to the manga artists), scenarios, and events are products of the author's imagination and/or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or real events is purely coincidental. The purpose of this work is to entertain and provoke thought, not to promote harmful behaviour.

Silence bore between the two lovers, yet it was not the quietness of peace. It’s as if one of you stands waiting to be ignited before exploding. You crossed your arms and legs as you swung your foot back and forth, an annoyed expression crossed your face while in front of you was a glaring red-eyed man staring at you with a temper much worse than yours.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in annoyance, “Oi, aren’t you going to talk? Are you listening to me?" You only glared at him. It was his fault, anyway. So, why should you be bothered to communicate with him when he has no will to do it with you? It was always his profession, here, there, this, everywhere.

You understood him, always.

Yet it was unfair in your case; every time you asked him to do something for you, he would always reject it and prioritize his job before you. You even wonder if you were still his girlfriend or just a fucking maid. You didn't have to explain yourself with that, he should realize how he treats you. You sighed disappointedly at his response as you stood from the couch noiselessly before dashing upstairs to your bedroom. Bakugo stared at you with wide eyes, furious at your disrespect to him, especially your silence. He lets out a chuckle as he follows you. "Y/N. Talk to me, come on. What the fuck is your problem? Come on, babe. Fucking talk to me! You are making me look like a fool." Bakugo complained angrily. You pick up your pace, still ignoring him. "Stop fucking ignoring me!" Finally, Bakugo exploded.

A deafening reverberates in the bedroom as you harshly close the door. A shout followed once you entered your room. There were loud and quick strides that echoed behind the door. “Oi, Y/N! Don’t you ignore me!” Bakugo shouted aggressively. You ignored the loud voice of your boyfriend. Consequently, this made Bakugo bang on the door like a lunatic. “Hey, I am fucking talking to you! Stop being a bitch and open up the door!” He demanded furiously. 

Your jaw clenched upon hearing his words as you sit up before inhaling deeply. “Leave. me. the. fuck. alone. Katsuki. Just go and do your job by fucking other women!” You screamed back at him with a tone emphasising the words.

You stomp loudly on the ground as you heavily lay your body down on the bed. The shouts and screams by Bakugo continued as he continuously bangs the door. He can blast your door with his quirk at any moment, but despite his irritable temper, he is never reckless with his actions.

This situation resumes between you and your boyfriend for 5 more minutes until the banging stops. You waited a few moments to expect another banging, but it never came. When you feel like Bakugo has given up, you reach up to grab your pillow to place it on your face before gripping it and screaming as loud as you can.

“Asshole! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" Your muffled screams vibrated through the pillow. You were frustrated at your boyfriend. In a relationship, generally, people expressed that communication is the key to a healthy relationship. You agree with that perception while hoping to experience where you and your significant other are open towards each other, with no shyness or fear present. But with Bakugo, it was the opposite. He was loud, but it meant that he never listened. There were a lot of circumstances you can name where you tried to get him to listen to you. He always wanted people to follow him, including you. You love Bakugo, but you hate that part about him. His pride was a problem to you and the relationship itself. It hinders you from attempting to be open with your lover.

Sometimes, a thought passes by saying it would be better if you weren't in a relationship. You remove the pillow from your face as you blankly stare at the ceiling.

Should you break up with him? Suddenly, a frame appeared in your view. A loud gasp left your lips as you propped your elbows. The man in front of you had a deadly grin and eyes that were blazing fire as if his stare would kill you in seconds.

"The fuck did you just say, babe?" He gritted through his teeth. Your eyes dilated upon seeing your boyfriend. Your lips shake from fright as you try to form your words, "H-how... w-what, h-how did you..."

A chuckle left Bakugo's mouth as he trapped you between his body and the bed, slowly climbing up, "Babe, you are not the one who is only living here, hmm? But I want to know what you said a while ago."

You frown upon what he said—did you say it out loud? You never meant it. It was the heat of the moment. In a million years, you never wish for that to happen even if it passes in your mind. You back away slowly, "What do you mean? I didn't say anything..."

Another sarcastic chuckle was emitted by your boyfriend as he pushed himself up on his knees and cracked his knuckles soundly. You feel shivers spreading through your body as you wait for his turn to speak. His silence was fearing you.

Suddenly, he yanked your ankles towards him, leaving you to yelp in surprise. As he climbs between your legs and then bends down to you. With that, he begins to your face with his right hand, drawing in a ticklish manner. Gently, his thumb stops at your lips. You stare at Bakugo's face, only to see him, licking his lips sensually. He unhurriedly pushes his thumb between the gap of your lips as you allow him. The push of your tongue down made your back arched, your crotch inches away from his.

"You know, baby? I admire your courage, really do." Bakugo snickers as his hand leaves your mouth to slowly slide down to your neck, the saliva trailing your chin.

"It is one of the things I love about you... however, you can't fuck with me with that foolishness of yours."

A sudden, rough placement was rubbing your clothed pussy, and you gasped loudly at the sensation. Pleasure soared through your body despite the brutish action of Bakugo. He sneered at your reaction, it was definitely satisfying to see you squirming at his touch below him as always.

His right hand proceeds to lift your shirt up to free your breasts from the confinement of the fabric, "You say you wanna break up with me, huh? What the fuck you have been drinking for you to say that?" He mocks.

As his other hand hooks your shorts and panty to the side before sliding a finger up your slit. A moan erupted from your lips, "Oh my gosh, Katsuki!" You could not reply to his mocks due to the unbelievable satisfaction that he always gives you.

"This slut can't even give an answer." Bakugo grabs a nipple by his lips, sucking it harshly before switching to your other boob. You hissed in response. Bakugo always knows how to make you shut up, it wasn't your fault you couldn't answer.

"Perhaps, I should fuck you hard to get that pissy attitude out of your pussy... and I'll make sure that you would never think about leaving me. I guess this is what you deserve after fucking ignoring me the whole day." A deadly grin formed on Bakugo's lips as he let go of your nipples.

Your eyes widen as you quickly place your hands on his huge forearms. "W-wait! Katsuki! Ah!" You moan loudly as your boyfriend inserts two of his thick fingers in your cunt, making you feel full.

Like the expert he is, he harshly thrusts his fingers with his thumb circling your clit rapidly. You suck in a deep breath as your back arches greatly. The squelch of your pussy entertained Bakugo as he felt this great pride overpowering him.

"Look at how wet you are, babe. No one will ever get you this wet other than me."

The words of Bakugo only passes through the other ear as you feel dizzy at the pleasure. While you attempt to at least decrease the sensation, Bakugo notices it as he chuckles.

He then placed his palm flat on your pelvis area, pushing you to prevent you from moving away from him, but this didn't help you one bit. It made it more difficult for you to resist the upcoming hurl around your stomach. You squirm around his hold, "S-slow down! F-fuck, Bakugo!" You plead while leaving long streaks of red marks, digging your nails.

Yet, your boyfriend ignored the pain. He only curved his lips upwards as he continued to finger you at a merciless speed. You were a mess; beads of sweat formed all around your body; hair was in a dishevelled state; and a fucked-up pleasure expression crossed your face.

As you are in bliss, you don't notice your boyfriend go down on you. Then you feel a long wet stripe along your hole, and you take a sharp inhale. "Oh fuck, Katsuki!"

A snicker left his lips as he licked your slit deliberately. His red eyes stare at you, "You're lucky, I'd be the one fucking you like this. A lot are lining up just to get a taste of me."

His thumb continues to rub your clit. "But no man will be able to satisfy you like I do. Well, I don't plan to let them either." A possessive tone was evident in his voice.

You open your mouth to retract back at him, but he laps his tongue on your sensitive bud, making you twist. You slid your hand from his forearms to grab his hair hard.

He was ruthless as he pushes your hips down to prevent you moving carelessly. Katsuki sucks your clit repeatedly. Yet, you only gave moans and whimpers until a sudden twist feeling quickly emerges, releasing in your stomach as you heave.

"Oh, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" You muttered repeatedly, which made your boyfriend laps his tongue in a much brutal pace.

You shiver as you release. Your chest rises up and down as you try to catch your breath. However before you gather yourself up, a hand stops you by pushing your neck down. You cough in the process as you struggle to breathe.

He glowers down at you with intense eyes. He is portaying his dominance over you. Little by little, he leans to your ear, lips slowly tickling the small hairs.

"I am still not done with you."

all dividers are from @/cafekitsune, thank you <33

[itsabouttimex2]

I hope this isn't an odd question

But, do you think Wukong or Macaque would act or treat different their "cub" if they genders were swapped or being a female version? This is also for a Yan behavior

I don't know too much about how is the raising of a monkey from the father and mother so I was curious with this since they're both mystical demons

I was thinking about this when I saw some fanarts from the artist @/car_nimbus on Twitter, they made a neat versions of the characters with another gender

Monkey Mama

(Hmm okay let me build a hypothetical OG “Female Monkey King” to work off of here and then I’ll try to translate that into LMK’s SWK. Also, I’ll probably make a second variation of this afterwards with other characters, haha. This got a little long to do both SWK and Mac!)

Sun Wukong as a character is already heavily defined by rebellion and personal choice, so I think that making him a girl only really compounds that layer of his character.

In many older narratives, female characters are often expected to be more obedient or modest than men, and very frequently only exist as prizes or, more rarely, villains. A female Sun Wukong; assuming she plays the same role as her original incarnation, defies the expectations of how “traditional” women should behave, shirking the demure and passive “ideal” and adding another layer of rebellion to her character.

(JTTW is actually pretty great in terms of female representation, with characters ranging from the perpetually good Quanyin, the eventually repentant Princess Iron Fan, and the straight up evil White Bone Spirit. I’m a big fan of how the women aren’t slid into any one “role” throughout the story.)

I think: in story, she’d likely be viewed as a sort of “anomaly”—a woman too strong, too outspoken, and too unwilling to conform to typical feminine ideals. Her defiance and arrogance might be viewed as even more scandalous by the Celestial Realm.

Instead of being made a “stable-keeper”, I think probably she’s sent to whatever Heavenly Scullery exists in that divine realm, and put to work very quickly. She would treat this “job” with indifference or even amusement at first-after all, physical labor or menial tasks don't diminish her self-worth or confidence! She’s had a life of hard work, leading an army of Yaoguai, cultivating Flower Fruit Mountain,

So she’s fine with this… at first. Then it turns out that the food she makes with her fellow low-class workers isn’t distributed amongst the people making it, but plated up nice and pretty for a bunch of “stuffy old gods” who didn’t lift a finger! Bullshit!

So obviously, the prideful Monkey Queen goes on a destructive rampage in regards to the unfair disparity of treatment, then storms back down to Earth to throw a “feel-better” party with her fellow Yaogaui.

(Which isn’t just a party, but a symbolic reclaiming of joy and community, with her monkey tribe representing the freedom she craves and the earthly bonds she prefers over heavenly authority. It's not just an escape, but a statement of independence.)

After an extensive set of repairs, the Court sends down someone to drag her back, because, you know, the local super-powered monkey is back on the loose, and that’s not exactly great for them. This time, they offer her a “better” role- she gets to become an official Peach Maiden, lucky her!

Of course, it’s just another form of entrapment, but within a prettier cage. Even though she's given a cushier position, it's a veneer- she's still being silenced, controlled, and stripped of her freedom. The role played by a Peach Maiden is an inversion of Wukong's essence, as these women are happily serving the role of passive caretakers, nurturing with gentle smiles—a direct contrast to the free-willed, brash nature of the Monkey Queen.

(And while there’s nothing wrong with being demure, passive, and feminine, having people try to force her into that role is where Sun Wukong draws her line.)

Here, she is expected to watch in silence as others revel in the freedom and power denied to her. It's a different kind of prison, one that quietly erodes her spirit. When the Celestial Court tries to reintegrate her as a Peach Maiden, they are once again attempting to place her into a docile, decorative role, one that strips away her power and independence. Those immortal peach orchards, a symbol of immortality and divine favor, becomes a prison for her.

Surrounded by "ideal" women who embody the quiet, submissive role she despises, the Monkey Queen finds herself chafing under the pressure of conformity. Her energy, once boundless and chaotic, is now caged, and the simmering resentment builds.

The buildup to her inevitable rebellion after being made a Peach Maiden, then, becomes a very sympathetic moment because it's not just a rejection of the role forced on her, but a rejection of the very system that tries to diminish who she is at her core. Her rebellion isn’t about anger and shame- it’s about reclaiming her true self after having been suffocated by the expectations of the Celestial Court. Her rampage becomes an assertion of her identity as something that can't be confined by heavenly rules or social mores.

The Court, in its attempt to “contain" her, only fuels her defiance further, leading her once again to rebel.

It was never going to end well. But it ends all the same, and punishment is to be levied to the Queen, just the same as any other rebellious rule-breaker... actually, probably harsher.

There’s “you broke our rules and tried to lead a coup”, then there’s “you did all that, and we also find your very person to be wrong on a fundamental level”, and then she gets the book thrown at her twice over.

But! Then she meets Tang Sanzang, who sees something in her that neither the Celestial Realm nor her own band of Sworn Brothers saw. Not a heretic simian savaging a holy realm. Not a Queen to rally behind for their own gain.

But a lost soul in need of guidance.

And from there the Great Monk works on building Sun Wukong up as a person instead of leading her astray or trying to cut massive chunks of her personality out? And talks to her about the things she cares about? And teaches her about all the things she missed after spending five hundred years under a rock?

And then she meets Zhu Baije, who starts out a little too happy and carefree about having a beautiful woman around, but eventually comes to smash open heads when Wukong is disrespected, because that’s not just a hot woman, that’s his sister?

Or Sha Wujing, who helps her with even the smallest things, from trimming her claws to cutting her wild hair to preparing meals for the monk? And lets her perch on his shoulders and head so the queen can get some skinship in?

Then Ao Lie, who is every bit the “disappointment to the world at large” that she was considered? And they take turns braiding each other’s hair and wiping the mess from the other’s face, and sleeping in the same tent and same bedroom because it’s less effort?

She gets a dad and three little brothers?

She gets a family.

And then loses it and is alone again for several hundred years more.

So if we go with this theoretical “My natural existence has been rejected for being seen as ‘improper’ by a court of stuffy traditional assholes” and then “I dearly love/miss my dead found family” angle, I think she’d be portrayed as a very different sort of character in LMK.

She’s quicker to lash out and defend herself, and much less willing to sit around and let the world pass her by- because that’s what was demanded of her by the Celestial Realm.

Be good. Be quiet. Be demure. Be obedient. Be anything except you.

I don’t think she’d be as willing to “rest on her laurels” as her canon counterpart, given that a “quiet boring life” was what she had fought so very hard to escape in the first place, so instead of isolating herself from the world in the first place, she probably sets up a little “souvenir shop” at the foot of Flower Fruit Mountain, taking a human form to sell little knick-knacks that herald to the journey she undertook with her old friends.

In part, this is how Wukong works to honor them. To spread their legacy. To ensure that they aren’t forgotten, left as a footnote in the annals of history. To remember them.

In part, it’s how she justifies all the mistakes she’s made and the suffering she’s been through. Settling in to a pointlessly relaxed life is exactly what she fought against, after all. She’s heavily fallen into the “sunk-cost fallacy”, where giving up and settling in, to her, means “losing”. It means “everything I went through was all for nothing”. So she keeps at this little store instead of just retiring and isolating herself from the world, even though she’d be happier to ditch it and lounge about.

So when MK and his eccentric bunch of friends comes around with their boundless energy and mischief, she immediately goes, “Oh, okay! This is what I wanted!”

(It’s not. All she’s ever wanted is her friends back. How could there be anything else?)

The Monkie Kids are vibrant, eccentric, and full of qualities that immediately resonate with Wukong. They remind her of the energy, camaraderie, and sense of adventure that she once shared with her old companions. She sees MK's arrival not just as a chance to teach someone a few of her old tricks, but as an echo of her own life—a life she hasn't been able to truly let go of.

So she starts projecting- on the surface, MK is very much like her. He's spirited, good-natured, and curious- and reckless. Just like she was. Wukong latches onto this quickly, sort of using the kid as a proxy for herself. After all, if she can't go back to her old life, why not embrace a new one that feels close enough? In some ways, this marks her refusal to accept the passage of time, a desperate clinging to the hope that, through MK, she can rekindle the connections she once cherished.

However, underneath that initial enthusiasm is the repressed understanding that MK, despite his similarities to her younger self, cannot truly replace what she lost. The friends she fought beside, the battles they waged together, and the lessons they learned are unique, irreplaceable moments in her life. No matter how much MK’s gang reminds her of the past, he and his friends a stand-in for the companions she still longs for. But her deep desire to reconnect with her old friends clouds her ability to see MK for who he truly is: his own person, on his own journey.

It takes her a while to get to that point, though. So she’s more doting and affectionate, in a way that somewhat stifles her student’s training because she wants to be both her old carefree self and also a good mentor, and the two just get jumbled.

Sidenote: I think with the difference in actions and behavior, MK would be more open to viewing Fem!Wukong as a parental figure than the OG, especially since he doesn’t really have someone to fulfill that “mom” role.

For their dynamic, I think something like this would be the outcome:

———————————————————————-

The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, painting the landscape in hues of varied orange and blue. With a tired hand, MK wipes the sweat from his brow.

He’s perched on one of the rocky spires dotting Flower Fruit Mountain, gazing at the view with a small smile of accomplishment. Training had been intense lately… if only because he had been doubling down on the time he spent practicing, without giving as much care to rest or aftercare.

After all, even though his powers were blooming steadily… his enemies also were growing in power and quantity, leading to the ever-creeping edge of fear that anything less than a constant one-hundred percent just wouldn’t be “enough”.

And right as he reaches back to grab the golden staff he has inherited from the Monkey Queen-

“MK! I told you to take a break, not run off to do more training!”

Her voice, uncharacteristically sharp, cuts through the formerly tranquil air, causing MK to jump. He turns just in time to see Sun Wukong strolling toward him, her hands on her hips and a look of mock annoyance on her face.

MK grinned sheepishly, shifting his grass-stained boots against the dirt. “I was just, you know… checking out the view.”

She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement as her eyes narrowed in annoyance. This kid... “Uh-huh. Checking out the view or sneaking in some practice when I wasn’t looking?”

Caught fast in his lie, MK rubbed the back of his neck, face scrunching up in embarrassment. “Maybe a little of both?”

In spite of herself, Sun Wukong quietly laughs, the sound echoing like a chiming bell through the mountain. Her long, golden hair flowed behind her in the wind, each strand catching the light like molten fire. Despite her legendary status- the rebellious warrior who’d fought the heavens and nearly won!- there was a warmth to her that MK had come to cherish.

“All work and no play, MK,” she said, sitting beside him on the rock and ruffling his hair with a fondness that always made him feel like a little kid again. “You’ll burn out before you get anywhere.”

He looked at her, eyes shining with admiration. “But you never stop training. You’ve been at this for centuries! I just…”

A pause, as his chest turns over, unsettled by the notion of opening up. But… it’s the Monkey Queen. So it.. should be okay, right?

“I want to make you proud.”

Sun Wukong’s expression softens, and she wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling the boy close in a tight embrace. “You already make me proud, kid. You don’t have to prove anything.”

MK leaned into the touch, feeling a wave of comfort wash over him. Even from the start she’d been like this with him- protective, nurturing… and maybe a bit overbearing at times. But he didn’t mind. It made him feel safe, like no matter what challenges lay ahead, he wasn’t alone.

MK chuckled, turning his face up to meet his idol’s eyes.” I’ll keep up,” he triumphantly declares, pumping a fist.” I promise.”

“Good.” Wukong shifted, her clawed hand lightly missing his spiked locks. “Now, how about we head back to the shop and grab something to eat? You’ve earned it.”

MK’s stomach growled at the mention of food, and he nodded so eagerly that she wondered if his head wouldn’t ache from the motion. “You know, I won’t say no to a good meal.”

The Monkey Queen stood up, dusting off her mentee’s clothes before offering him a hand. “Of course you won’t. C’mon, my treat.”

———————————————————————-

Now, to answer your question about how she acts in regards to her own cub… in general I think she’s much more doting than the OG, willing to express herself through constant displays of physical affection, in ways that are far more varied.

Constant forehead smooching, cuddles, grooming sessions, all of it! Mama Wukong never wants to let go of her baby! Sit down and let her paint your nails! Let her comb and braid your hair! Let her make you a nice lunch (loaded with mystical drugs to keep you nice and sleepy for extra cuddles), or at least a filling snack! Let her pepper your face with kisses as she spins you in her powerful arms!

Lots and lots of indulgent fluffy days of binging unhealthy foods and watching cozy reruns of old shows, your head in her lap as she hums and does up your hair with her lazy hands.

Lots of reminiscing about old suitors as she considers the quietest and quickest ways to kill anyone who makes the futile attempt to pursue you in the same way.

Despite her obsessive behavior, Wukong struggles with conflicting feelings about wanting her child to be strong and independent, just like her! She pushes you to train hard and become powerful, but when you inevitably seek their own freedom or autonomy, she’d experience a mix of pride and heartbreak, pushing her deeper into possessive tendencies.

If you ever tried to leave or even just start to break away, Wukong’s worst traits would bubble up like hellfire. Just as she fought against an entire realm’s authority, she would absolutely wage a war to keep her child close, all while justifying her actions as love.

The Monkey Queen is also more willing to take routes outside of brute force if it means securing extra protection for Y/N. If Macaque or maybe Azure (or someone else like Erlang Shen) wants to try and play “suitor”, well, she’s not too interested… until the thought arises that having him around makes you extra safe! And then she’s willing to think on it.

(That’s assuming that you aren’t one of their biological kids to begin with, in which case there might be a sort of “yandere triangle”. Azure/Macaque/Erlang Shen doing his damndest to reclaim his wife, before he learns that she’s had a child while he was gone... or maybe Pigsy and Tang decided that MK needs his mentor in a more ‘accessible’ position, and plot to drag her to Megapolis…)

Lots of potential monkey mama shenanigans, basically!

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic ❌️Platonic

TW: Implied Abuse, Murder, Implied Gore, Period Typical Treatment of Women, Implied Sewerslide

Description: Alastor X Singer!Crime Family!reader who has known him in life and death and what their complicated relationship might be like, as canon compliant as I can bring myself to be

You grew up in crime family with an emotionally unavailable mother and violent dismissive father

Sure you were well fed, well dressed,well protected(despite the socially acceptable beatings from your parents) and educated but you were in a prison all of your own

You were your family's precious songbird with a voice like no other and a cage of steel around you, you often had small shows in clubs, bars, wherever your father could make it happen

Your father loved showing you off to his associates, friends, anybody who would listen really, in those moments you were his little girl who could do no wrong

Behind closed doors however

Because of your father's bragging all of his gross old friends took an unnecessary interest in you as well

Also did you know you're engaged to some brute who's nearly twice your age?? Some radio show producer who's had 3 wives before you and more women on his arm than you can count

But it's fine, you're fine

Is what you tell yourself until one day your fiance takes you to a radio station so you can sing there and you hear a familiar voice in one of the radio booths

Nofuckingwayisthatwhoyouthinkitisohfuckitshimitshim

You couldn't resist listening to one of your favorite radio hosts live but you also didn't want to interrupt so you stood and watched from afar as Alastor worked his magic

He was more handsome and magnetic in person, it was so unfair, you were completely entranced by him

Don't worry he noticed you too, amused by your gooey awestruck gaze

You could've stayed and listened to the whole show if your fiance hadn't suddenly yanked you away by your arm, reminding you that you were also here to work

You have a small wave and mouthed "big fan" as you were pulled away, ecstatic as Alastor gave a slick smile back

Now it was his turn to be intrigued, finishing up his show and exiting his booth to go and find where his delicious looking little fan went

Only to find himself happily surprised by your singing, deciding to sit and stay on his break, listening in appreciation for your voice

After that you two simply clicked, drawn to each other even if you both didn't understand it

You sneaking off every chance you could to talk and spend time with him and Alastor perking up anytime his door opened

It escalates from there, Alastor secretly sending you flowers/letters/anything you even glance at, you reciprocating by leaving little gifts/letters on his desk. The two of you having discreet rendezvous at night

It wasn't romantic at all and you two weren't in love, just really good friends

Who sometimes had moments of intimacy like snuggling, touching foreheads after a long embrace, a dozen almost kisses, a few kiss kisses

And when you inevitably found out that he's a cannibalistic serial killer he was worried he would have to hurt you, worried that you would be disgusted in him. That you wouldn't want to see him again

Imagine Alastor's surprise when you just sigh and start helping him clean his mess, almost nonchalant with the gore until you explain that your family has a violent history

Okay so maybe it's love maybe it's not, you two don't put a label on it or even discuss it really, you just enjoy the moment

Alastor hates your fiance, he hates that he doesn't treasure you, that he openly cheats on you, that he's rough with you, that he thinks he owns you

Safe to say that your fiance and Alastor hate each other but that's just fine because you hate your fiance too

Things were blissful between you two and you were even discussing running away together, your family and fiance starting to catch on to the relationship

You and Alastor began to finalize plans, picking a day to meet up and start your new lives

Except Alastor dissappears suddenly and doesn't return any of your letters, doesn't show up for his radio show and you can't find him

And one day you're caught by your father and fiance,checking Alastor's radio booth again, the two of them taunting you by telling you Alastor took a bribe and ditched you

You're forced to marry your fiance less than a month later, only making it a little longer before you take your own life, drowning in heartbreak and rage at the betrayal

You're not surprised when you find yourself in hell but damn it still feels like a punch to a gut

You know Alastor is there too, you know who this rising radio demon is but you don't want anything to do with him, you're still so angry

And he's angry at you too, thinking you moved on from him so easily, hurt that you never even looked for him(He's 100% creating scenarios in his head and hurting himself)

So it takes quite awhile before you two even cross paths, let alone hash things out, like a years and years sort of thing

Expect a lot of run ins that end in snarky comments and unnecessary romantic/sexual tension

It's not until one particularly explosive argument that you two realize that you've been getting the truth mixed up

But once it's settled then it's like nothing ever changed, except that you two have way more time together and you don't have to sneak around anymore

It's an open secret that you two are together even though neither of you have confirmed it or even put a label on it

You just always happen to be on his arm, canoodling at every chance and backing each other up in fights(verbal or physical). Every successful fight is rewarded with eskimo kisses

But you two are definitely practically husband and wife, a power couple even

But then one day he dissappears again

WHY

Maybe you two had a fight before he dissappears and he storms off for a walk. Maybe not

And then seven years go by and you fear that somehow you've lost him again, but for good this time

So you spend that time quietly mourning him and struggling to move on

You don't even find out he's back again until you hear him back in his radio tower, fighting with Vox

🙄😏 that man...

You're not even mad that he hasn't come to see you yet, simply relieved that he's alive and back

Okay you're a little mad, a little hurt

You're calm when you find out he's staying at some new hotel instead of coming back home, coming back to you

Okay you're not exactly calm, your friends would say you're simply hysterical behind closed doors

So you're livid when you find out he's staying with Lucifer's daughter and her friends because it's so obviously just a power grab for him

Fine

You definitely don't go over and cause a scene but you definitely do corner him at some point and let him have it

He's so fucking happy to see you that he's not even paying attention to what you're yelling about or why you're crying. He just pulls you in for a long hug, shutting you up with a rough kiss.

No you're not cupping each other's cheeks, foreheads pressed together as he apologizes over and over again for leaving you again

He won't do it again, not if he can help it

You find out that he's managed to dig himself a hole with a bad deal but that's about all you can figure out and he can't exactly tell you

But you manage to find it in yourself to forgive him(it's hard to stay mad at him), accepting that his time and attention have to be somewhere else for now

Then there's another extermination and one of your friends tell you to check the tv(something you probably don't normally do)

The moment you see Alastor facing off against Adam you're off, fighting and racing to get to him, to help him but he's gone by the time you get there. Lucifer and his daughter fighting him

But you know he's not dead this time, he wouldn't leave you again, not a third time

He promised

So you find him panicking in his busted radio tower and hold him until he calms down, promising that you two will find a way out of his deal

Maybe just hold his head to your chest and stroke his hair a little longer?

You were both reluctant to break apart, Alastor genuinely seeming remorseful as he nuzzles your forehead, telling you that he will visit you soon, that he's sorry for everything

Still he smiles 🙃

When he leaves to go back to the hotel you find yourself more tempted than ever to follow him, your heart aching to be near him again already

Maybe you should check in or at least offer to work there, they don't have an entertainer yet, do they?

Alastor when you show up:

"Darling, what are you doing here?"

I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM OKAY!?

Bonus! Charlie when she finds out about Alastor's boo:

[vague-humanoid]

(RNS) — The African Methodist Episcopal Church’s top officials have called for the U.S. government to halt all its funding of Israel, citing the deaths of tens of thousands of Palestinians in the Hamas-Israel war.

“The Council of Bishops of the African Methodist Episcopal Church calls on the United States Government to immediately withdraw all funding and other support from Israel,” reads a statement issued on Wednesday (Feb. 14), the 264th anniversary of the birth of the historically Black denomination’s founder, Richard Allen.

“Since October 7, 2023, in retaliation for the brutal murder of 1,139 Israeli citizens by Hamas, Israel has murdered over 28,000 Palestinians, mostly women and children. The United States is supporting this mass genocide. This must not be allowed to continue.”

The statement was signed by Bishop Adam J. Richardson, senior bishop of the denomination; Bishop Stafford J.N. Wicker, president of the bishops’ council; Bishop E. Anne Henning Byfield, chair of social action, and Bishop Francine A. Brookins, co-chair of social action.

Bishop Harry L. Seawright, the leader of the AME’s Alabama district, said in a Thursday interview with Religion News Service that he and other bishops also supported the statement, which he said reflects the denomination’s stances on social action.

“We have always tried to take a social stand against injustice, unfair treatment of all people,” he said.

Seawright said he was not aware of any other Black denominations that had adopted the same stance. Bishop Vashti McKenzie, a retired AME bishop and the president of the National Council of Churches,  an organization of Protestant, Orthodox, evangelical and historic African American churches, told Religion News Service that she believed the AME Church was the first national denomination to take this step.

In January, Progressive National Baptist Convention President David Peoples declared his denomination’s stance in favor of a cease-fire at a news conference at the Lorraine Motel, the Memphis, Tennessee, site where the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in 1968.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hallo! Hope you're doing good!

I can’t remember if you've ever written something like this, but check this out:

What if there’s a story where reader and Donna start dating, but reader's dealing with her abusive parents? Donna knows about it too, but isn’t clued into how bad and serious it really is. One day, reader shows up to see and spend time with Donna and has some marks on her body. When Donna sees them, she gets super angry, but reader brushes it off and calms her down.

Then later, they get into an argument, and Donna raises her voice, which triggers the reader. She tries to hold it together, but when Donna gets closer and reaches for her own hair, the reader flinches, thinking she’s about to hit her. This sets off her PTSD.

In the end, Donna calms her down and suggests that the reader should move in with her.

Thank you:)

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Save me

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse

Word count: 6,835

Summary: Sometimes life is like hell to you...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Normally, it didn't take you that long to leave the house. It was just another procedure, going out the door, promising that you'd be back soon... For an 18-year-old girl like you, none of those simple tasks should be difficult.

But, even if you were really just another villager, nothing special, your family was.

It's not that you were a rebellious girl, you never were. You were always an obedient girl, devoted to Mother Miranda like any of the villagers. You didn't disobey, you didn't protest... You couldn't do it either.

The Black Gods were merciful, or so they said, although with you... With you, they were too unfair. Every day, all you heard were screams, unfair scolding. Your body didn't receive hugs, caresses, not even your ears could relax with some soft words of support, some that should come from the two people who gave you life.

Your parents weren't like the others. Maybe at first, in the innocence of your childhood, you thought that way, that severity could be beneficial for your future, but as you grew up, you realized you were wrong.

The blows were common, the screams were routine. No matter what you did, for them, you did everything wrong, you did everything to anger them.

It could be a good reason to try to escape from that village, so the Black Gods would stop laughing at you, but it wasn't. No one could leave that place. No one was going to protect you. Your life was already written in indelible ink.

You could only do what many of your friends did to run away from their homes (although due to reasons less logical than yours). You could work at Dimitrescu Castle as a maid, but you thought yourself so useless, you thought yourself so stupid that you didn't even try.

If severity served to achieve a better future... Where was yours? The screams, the beatings, made you start to believe those unfair words, that you weren’t a worthy daughter, that you would never be one.

However, you had another option, the worst of all. You could throw away your principles, the interest you always had for women, and marry one of those brainless peasants. Yes, that way you could leave that house but you didn't know what was waiting on the other side. You could improve, form an unwanted family and forget about your past but, besides the fact that you would never be able to escape from your parents... How could you know if that boy wasn't the same, or even worse than them?

There was no way out and the idea of ​​a loveless marriage wasn’t in your plans.

You thought that maybe you didn't deserve to live, that this horrible treatment was the direct consequence of offending the Gods. Darkness no longer belonged only to the village, it had taken over you.

Giving up was easy, the coward's way, but you didn't see that you had any other option. The Gods apparently noticed that change, that apathy, the bottomless precipice that your life was heading towards. To them, to Mother Miranda, to the Lords, you were just caged animals that had to accept their fate, no matter how terrible it was.

But suddenly, your life changed, the Gods played with you, making it worthwhile to continue listening to screams.

The youngest one, the mysterious lady in black who was barely a shadow to the villagers, Donna Beneviento, found something in you that forced her to come closer.

Maybe it was your tireless prayers for those dark deities to release you from your suffering, maybe it was the beauty you were born with, the desire to have fun with you that someone like her could have.

It wasn't like that. The lady in black didn't come over to play, she didn't scold you for your eternal tears, for your pleas, she just stayed watching you, like a bad omen, like a harbinger of darkness.

Little by little that routine was repeated, always in the same place, always at the same time. Your tears stopped running down your cheeks. For some reason, you wanted her to see you in a different way, to not be the sad and hurt girl you used to be. Her silent presence somehow calmed your laments. You had lived through too many horrible things to be afraid of her.

According to her, that was what caught her attention. Your lack of fear, your apathy, your relaxed way of seeing her presence, of feeling that she was close, were the reasons that pushed Lady Beneviento to come even closer, to ask your name and what was the reason for your constant prayers.

What at first seemed like a curious approach stopped being so. The old chapel stopped being your meeting place. And there were no prayers, no supplications, no tears, just something strange that happened on your face every time you met Donna and her doll, something that you started to do without realizing it: smile.

Smiles, conversations, even funny moments thanks to the Angie doll… All of that became your new motivation to come home every night, to endure the screams, the beatings, to wish for a new day to come, and to be able to see her.

Her beauty surprised you, her beauty lacking that horrible black veil, her bright eye, the face of a wounded and sick woman but that emanated pure beauty, emanated that feeling you also had, love.

Your first kiss was one more sign that someone or something had heard your pleas. She loved you, you loved her. There was nothing that could make you happier at that moment, the moment when the lady shyly confessed her feelings, confessed that she didn't see a friend in you, that she saw the woman of her life.

Sobbing, you walked through the forest, on your way to the old estate, like every day, and, like every day, you had to deal with the hell that was your home. Going through hell to get to heaven… It was a rather poetic way of looking at it.

Of course, your parents never knew and they never would, hopefully. She was a Lord, but… But you belonged to them. Telling the truth about the reason for your daily escapades would only trigger more blows.

“D-Donna?” you asked timidly, wiping away your last tears, erasing from your mind your father's screams, your mother's scorn.

“Oh, (Y/N),” the Lord's hoarse and soft voice had become a magic eraser for all your suffering, along with the elegant sound of her heels on the wooden floor.

The movement of the lady's black dress was always a hypnotic dance, one that forced your corners of your mouth to rise mercilessly.

“H-Hi,” you stammered with a smile that faded when you looked at her face, one that wasn’t like every day, she seemed worried.

“Tesoro…” she sighed, slowly approaching and cupping your face in her hands. “Amore mio… I thought, I thought you wouldn't come anymore,” she whispered, kissing you softly, showing you the reason for that unusual expression. “That you would have forgotten about me.”

The contact of her soft lips sent reassuring signals to your entire body, letting it relax in her arms, with her constant caresses.

“I could never forget you, Donna,” you sighed, burying your head in the black fabric of her dress, letting her chest serve as support, as a balm for the memories of the screams just a moment ago. “Sorry for being late.”

“W-Well, the important thing is that you came,” she said, with the smile that made you fall in love, one that was for you, exclusively for you.

You nodded slowly, hugging the lady and closing your eyes, causing your ears to be distracted by a shy laugh that emerged from her lips as she pushed you away.

“Aren't you saying hello to me?” a different, higher-pitched voice caught your attention.

Of course, the Angie doll also seemed happy about your presence, she was even annoyed that you were running to her owner and not playing with her.

“Sure, hello, Angie,” you said, bending down to be at the height of the doll, who kindly hugged you quickly with an evil laugh.

“Do you want to play?” the puppet asked, always used to having a fun time with you, or with both of you, if possible.

Seeing her owner smile again seemed like enough reason to stop making fun of you like at the beginning but… Somehow you started to think if that doll was more aware of your situation than Donna.

“No, today, today I wanted to be with Donna,” you said softly, getting up to find yourself again with the protective arms of the lady in black, who didn't waste a moment to have you as close as possible.

“How boring,” Angie protested, crossing her arms, but suddenly changing her attitude, climbing up your body in a comical way.

“Angie, lasciala estare…” the lady murmured, picking up the puppet, who had hooked herself onto your body, watching you from close, very close.

“Hey, you! Why are you crying?” the doll asked, being dragged away from you by her owner. “Donna, Donna, the fool is crying again.”

Just as you suspected, that doll saw much further than Donna could do.

Lady Beneviento was a sick woman, horribly jealous and possessive. The circumstances of your delay didn't matter to her. The furrows on your cheeks didn't attract her attention. What she valued was only that you had returned, that you hadn't forgotten her.

You knew her past, her sad and almost eternal loneliness. That cold and perhaps slightly dark appearance wasn't an impediment to your heart melting for her, rather it was an advantage. You knew that Donna would do anything for you, if she saw you crying... You didn't know how she would react.

“Oh, no, it's nothing,” you said with a fake smile, wiping your face clumsily, making the trace of those salty tears disappear.

“It's true, tesoro,” Donna said, frowning and coming closer again, gently removing your hand from your face. “(Y/N), you’ve cried…”

“Oh, it's nothing, really, I've had a bad day,” you lied, downplaying it with a fake shine in your eyes.

“Mm,” she murmured, with a distrustful look, lifting your chin. “You argued with your parents again, right?” she asked with a soft, understanding voice, accentuating her concern with a gentle caress on your hair.

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, lowering your head, embarrassedly allowing a discreet tear to fall on the brunette's hand. “That's why it took me a bit longer.”

Donna sighed, softly kissing your cheek, brushing away with her lips the trace that your mother's slap left on your skin, the internal pain you endured.

“You argue a lot with them,” she commented, taking your hand and guiding you through the mansion.

Her voice sounded sweet, but in her words you could notice an accent that was perhaps more marked than usual. Those small subtle changes were signs, they were ways that Donna had of unintentionally showing an incipient concern, a concern that you wanted to get out of her mind.

“Yes, well, like all parents with their children, I guess,” you said with a sweet look, one that you had spent a lot of time rehearsing.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, pointing to a sofa for you to sit on. “My parents also scolded me sometimes.”

“Really?” you asked curiously, trying to identify your girlfriend's apparent concern, one that was becoming more and more evident. “I-I thought you were a good girl.”

“Yes, the truth is that I used to obey my parents but… Well, you know, kid stuff, I guess,” she explained in a relaxed tone. “Sometimes I couldn't help but get a scolding from my father for stealing materials to make my own dolls.”

You laughed amused, imagining that endearing scene in your head.

“But... I-I don't understand why a girl like you could get into trouble enough to be constantly arguing, (Y/N). Sometimes I think you're hiding something from me,” she said next, cooling her gaze, searching for something in yours, something she couldn't fully understand.

“What? Oh, no, no. I would never hide anything from you, Donna,” you said, knowing that you were lying, that the fear of retaliation from your family was always present even though they weren't. “They're just very strict.”

“Then I suppose you won't have any problem talking to me about the reason for the argument,” she said with a serious tone, with an attentive look, waiting for a rational explanation and not the usual lies.

“Well, I...” you began, moving away, with your father's screams resonating in your head, the questions, the accusations they made every time you left the house to see your girlfriend. “T-They don't really like me leaving the house.”

The lady in black arched her eyebrow and blinked in confusion, nodding for you to continue.

“They think, they think I'm dating someone,” you continued, looking away at the wooden floor, controlling the fear in your hands, your only defense against their physical attacks. “You know.”

“Well, that's true,” Donna said with a smile, moving closer to kiss you softly, something that made Angie protest, eliciting a soft laugh from your lips.

“Ugh,” the doll complained.

“What's their problem with that?” Donna asked, ignoring the doll's grumbling and taking your hand. “You're not a child.”

“Yes, I know, but…” you murmured, noticing how your body began to tremble, how all your fears materialized in an irrational way. “It doesn't matter, Donna, they are like that way.”

“What way?” the brunette insisted, with an impatient voice, one that demanded a firm and confident answer, one you didn't have. “(Y/N) stop lying to me, you're hiding something from me.”

“I've already told I’m not,” you said with a gruff voice, perhaps a bit raised in tone. “Besides, I didn't come to talk about my parents, I came to be with you.”

“Don't talk to me like that,” the lady growled, annoyed with your attitude. “I just want to know why every time you come to this house you're crying.”

“You wouldn't understand,” you said in a whisper, looking away again.

“Do they hurt you?” she asked in a different tone.

You should have known that someone like Donna wasn't easy to fool, but you decided to continue with the lie. You were trash, trash didn't deserve to be worried about it.

“No,” you said in a fake voice, with a tone that made the lady sigh and caress your hand harder.

“Mm,” she murmured, moving away and kissing the back of your hand. “I would never allow anyone to hurt you, you know that, right?”

“I know, Donna, but, but you're worrying too much. My parents are strict and that's it. I understand that they worry about their only daughter and that... Well, that they want who I'm dating.”

“There's a very simple solution to that, tesoro, just tell them,” Donna commented, nodding. “I'm convinced that if they know you're with me, they'll leave you alone.”

“No!” you suddenly shouted, waving your arms. “N-No, they, they can't know.”

“Why? Are you ashamed of me?” she asked, with a different look, offended. It was definitely not a good day.

You hissed, shaking your head. Poor Donna had many problems, many insecurities that complicated your relationship. You didn't make a great effort to act better, to make her see the reality of your situation. You knew that wouldn't bring anything good.

“No, Donna, I'm not ashamed of you,” you said with a dark tone. “But they are very... Very traditional. They would never allow me to be with a woman.”

“Sciocchezze,” she murmured, taking the hand you withdrew. “I’m a Lord, what they think doesn't matter. What I say and how I say it will be done, by the glory of Mother Miranda, do you understand?”

“I wish it were that simple,” you sighed, managing to hide a tear that fell down your face once again.

“It is for me, why it isn’t for you?” she asked again, relaxing her nervous voice, analyzing your face while her hands caressed it, removing from it the damage it always suffered.

“I don't know, Donna,” you said with a sob, something that made the brunette move away, changing her stern face for a soft one.

“Shh, amore mio… don't cry, I didn't mean… Oh, please, come, come here, hug me, tesoro,” the lady said with a sweet voice, pulling your body to lean on hers, so you could enjoy that ephemeral protection. “Forgive me, (Y/N), I didn't mean to talk to you like that.”

“I've, I've had a bad day, that's all,” you said against her clothes, swinging next to her in a silent embrace.

“Well, calm down, you're with me now,” she said, kissing you softly, wiping those tireless tears from your face. “Let's forget it, okay? Let's enjoy our time together.”

The tension finally dissipated, regaining some of the lady in black's sanity, leaving her uncomfortable questions aside and making you spend, as always, one of the best days of your life.

A quiet meal, a moment of reading together, a walk around the grounds. Little things that blurred your fears, that clouded your sense of time and space, something that wasn’t good at all, for you.

The clock struck the hour, just when those kisses and caresses were starting to get out of hand. You had never done anything further from pure innocent affection, and of course, making love to Donna was on your long list of pending wishes, but it was never possible.

Time wasn’t your ally, it wasn’t your friend. It was your worst enemy. That tangle of messy kisses, of naughty hands under your clothes, made you forget what time it was, what time of day it was. You hadn't come home for dinner. You hadn't come back on time and that would have consequences.

The lady in black was always understanding. Her carnal instincts to possess you were always blurred by your worried face, by your sudden escapes. At first it was a game, you were a kind of Cinderella who had to return before midnight, but, little by little, Donna's sighs betrayed more impatience.

Surely it had nothing to do with sex, surely what Donna saw, but at the same time was unable to find out, was your atrocious fear of returning to hell, to your home.

There were no lights in the old cabin. There was no trace of your tormentors. It could be that they had fallen asleep, that they had grown tired of waiting for you. That illusion made you smile, walking in the dark, with stealthy steps, to your room. You weren’t aware that danger always lurked around the corners of that house, always.

“Young lady…” your father's slurred voice stopped you in your tracks, making you freeze. “May I know where you're coming from?”

“Father,” you said with a sigh, lowering your head. “I've just been with my friends.”

“With your friends…” the man growled, finishing his glass of wine, getting up from the armchair where he was waiting for you, like a beast lurking in the dark. “Liar!”

“F-Father…” you muttered nervously, unable to move from the spot. “Father, please.”

“What the fuck have you been doing?” he hissed, suddenly grabbing you by your hair, pulling it back. “You're not fooling me, (Y/N), I know what you're doing…”

“I-I'm not doing anything, father, I swear…”

“Silence!” he shouted. “You're three hours late, young lady, your mother was waiting for you for dinner and how do you thank her? Disregarding her work,” he snapped at you, pulling your hair harder.

“I didn't mean to be late, I'm, I'm sorry,” you begged, hissing in pain, something that never worked for you, nor would it work on this occasion. “Father, let me go.”

“You're a bitch! You're probably fucking someone, aren't you? A whore like you is what she does…” he hissed, throwing you to the floor with a push.

“No, father…” you whispered in an inaudible voice, protecting your face with your hands.

“You're a disgrace! Do you want to be the village whore? Let some idiot get you pregnant? Be a single mother?” the man asked, bending down threateningly while you shook your head.

“No…” you said in a darker tone, much more dangerous than usual. A terrible idea. “You have no idea, father.”

“Do you dare to face me?” he asked, laughing mockingly. “Agatha! Hold this brat! She needs to learn a lesson…”

Your mother obeyed and the beatings began.

Your screams didn't matter, your protests weren't heard. Pain, humiliation, crying… It was all you could feel at that moment. Every kick, every blow acted mercilessly in your mind, erasing each of Donna's kisses, the softness of her hands on your skin, her words of love clouded with each of the lashes on your body.

It was always the same, always the shadows eclipsing your light. Every night you cried, you begged to get out of that place, and every night it was harder to do so. Donna would always wait for you the next day, she would always refresh your memories, make your pain disappear.

Could you endure a life in hell? Could you live misfortunes every day just for the reward of spending a few hours in paradise?

Over time, those questions stopped having answers.

The next day, the demon was still in your life, your tormentors were waiting for you to serve them like every day. Your whole body hurt, the marks of the blows stood out on your body, on your face.

Even though, as always, you were going to leave your hellish life for a moment, looking in the mirror, reality fell on your shoulders again.

Donna didn't deserve that concern, that feeling of guilt for something she wasn't guilty of. She couldn't see you like that, she simply couldn't.

She would surely be angry with you for not having let her know the harsh reality of your problems. She could take it personally at best. At worst, she would simply despise you. She would see you as a coward incapable of facing your weak mother and an alcoholic beast.

You couldn't take the risk, you couldn't put at risk the little happiness was in your life. You had to keep quiet, silence your problems, hide them, cover them up…

Taking the meaning of that phrase literally, you decided to paint your wounds with makeup, hide your bruises, your misfortunes. You didn't want your life to revolve around your problems, Donna's smile was the only reason you didn't give up, and you didn't plan on giving up on her.

Luckily, leaving the house was easy that day. Neither your father nor your mother seemed to want to interrupt you. Your body was totally sore. They surely believed that you wouldn't get far. After all, who would want to play with a broken toy?

“Ciao, tesoro,” the lady said, opening the door when you knocked, granting your lips the grace of a soft kiss, a strange caress on your face.

Your body trembled, suffering the pain of her soft hand from your hidden but silent blows. She would never notice, but even so, her face became thoughtful.

“I notice you look different today, (Y/N),” she said in a soft voice, guiding you into the mansion, enjoying the contact with your skin, one terribly painful, but that you managed to hide.

“Oh, well... I wanted, I wanted to be pretty for you,” you said blushing when the lady ran a hand over your made-up cheek, frowning. “Do you like it?”

“Mm, I like how you are, you don't need that absurd makeup to come here,” she said, laughing amused and grabbing your waist, a serious mistake. Your father's blows had reached that point and they hurt, they hurt terribly.

You couldn't help but writhe in pain at the contact, emitting a slight hiss that Donna, of course, didn't overlook.

“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly, looking at the place she had touched, playing with your clothes. “What is it that...?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I'm fine,” you said hastily before the woman in black lifted your shirt to reveal the marks of torture. “I just have… Gas.”

“Gas,” the lady repeated with a distrustful voice, moving her hand away, luckily.

“Yes, um… I think, I think I ate too much yesterday,” you said, pretending an amused and embarrassed voice.

“Ha, you fart girl!” Angie shrieked, pointing at you mockingly.

“Angie…” Donna whispered, shaking her head. “Amore mio, can I do something for you?”

Get me out of this hell…

“No, no, it'll pass,” you said, downplaying it, guiding her hand to surround your waist again in a place your father hadn't marked.

“I can make you some tea, I'm sure it’s going to be good,” Donna said kindly, rubbing your belly in a motherly way.

You nodded with a genuine smile, stealing a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Stupid mortals…” Angie commented, walking with you to the living room. “Does your stomach hurt, silly?”

“Yes,” you said amused, sitting down when the lady walked away to prepare your tea with a smile. “You don't know what that is… It hurts a lot.”

“I don't want to know,” Angie said amused, getting off the couch and looking for a deck of cards. “Cards?”

“Oh, um, okay…” you sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. Every time you did, your wounds burned, reminding you of that horrible night, making you unable to enjoy the time you had with your beloved.

“Uh… Your stomach isn't there, silly,” Angie said with a suspicious tone, pointing at your hand, which unconsciously went to your side with a hiss. “Come on, spit it out, what are you hiding?”

“Nothing, I'm not hiding anything,” you said with a firm voice. “I'm just tired, that's all,” you explained, taking the deck with your aching arms. “What do you want to play?”

“Mm, I don't know,” the doll said, sitting at the coffee table, with a slightly different tone, lacking the usual irreverence. “Let me give you some advice, (Y/N)…” she whispered in a soft tone, looking at the elevator hallway in case Donna appeared.

“What advice?” you asked shuffling those cards, leaving your mind free of pain, or trying to, at least.

“Donna hates being lied to, silly. Just keep pretending that nothing is happening, and you'll see…” Angie commented, making your heart stop.

“What do you mean?” you asked, nervous, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. “Angie, I… I don't know what…”

“Stop taking us for fools, you silly villager… You can pretend all you want but… How much makeup will you need next time?” Angie said, leaving you petrified again. “You're stupid, (Y/N), Donna may be stupid enough not to know what's going on here, but I'm not.”

“What…? What do you think is going on?” you asked in a fearful whisper, the cards shaking in your hand.

“Someone is hurting you,” Angie said. “Donna doesn't like you being hurt.”

“No, Angie, you're, you're wrong…” you said sighing, incredulous at her accurate accusation. “What makes you think that?”

“It's not the first time I've seen something like that in a villager like you. Donna never notices those details because she's stupid, but I do, I see, you know?”

“You're wrong,” you said with a shaky voice, dealing the cards the best way you could.

“Really? What if we take a look?” the doll said, lunging towards you to lift your shirt, something you immediately prevented.

“Stop, Angie, please,” you protested.

“Angie, basta,” Donna said, saving you from the undeniable revelation, the discovery that the doll was right, mysteriously right...

“But Donna, (Y/N)...” the doll protested, pointing at you effusively. “Listen to me, Donna, she...”

“Go away, leave us alone, don't you realize she's sick?” the lady said, taking the doll down from the table as she kicked furiously. “Leave her alone, come on, get out.”

 “Silly Donna,” she hissed already on the floor, crossing her arms and walking out of the little corner.

“What's wrong with her? Did she lose again?” the lady asked, carefully serving you a cup of tea, with an amused smile.

“I don't know,” you said faking a smile, reaching out your hand towards the offered cup. “Thank you, my love…”

“Drink slowly, it's very hot,” she said kindly, guiding your hand to rise to your mouth.

“It's very good,” you said with a smile, pleased by the bitter and smooth taste of the tea.

“Mm,” she murmured with a smile, looking at you intently, as if there was something that didn't fit for her. “But what have you done? What a mess.”

“What?” you asked confused as she came a little closer, looking at your face carefully.

“Tesoro, if you don't know how to put on makeup, don't do it for me, look at how you've put on, let me help you” she said, pointing at one of your excessively made-up cheeks.

“No, no, it's, it's okay, Donna. I like it,” you said, moving away the hand that wanted to spread that layer of makeup better, grabbing her wrist.

Donna frowned, shaking her head.

“Don't talk nonsense, I have dolls with much less makeup than you,” she said, insisting on fixing your makeup. “I'm not an expert but... Come, I'll show you how to do it properly.”

“W-Wait,” you said, staying seated on the couch while she pulled your wrist to get you up. “L-let me finish my tea.”

“No, I can't stand seeing you like this, you look like a slut,” she commented with an unpleasant tone, pulling you even harder.

“Do I look like a…?” you repeated with a trembling hand. “I'm not a slut.”

“I know, but,” Donna said, pulling you harder, managing to lift you up. “But let me take that off, your skin is beautiful just the way it is.”

“No, it's not,” you said with a nervous, abrupt voice, one that alerted the lady. “Leave me alone, Donna.”

“I just want to help you, (Y/N),” the brunette insisted, with her hands shaking too.

“I said no!” you shrieked, echoing off the old walls of the mansion, leaving the lady in black glued to the floor. “Leave me alone! If I look like a slut like this, then fine, I don't care! I like it! So leave me alone, Donna!”

You couldn't stand the tension any longer, it was too much. Knowing that Angie knew about your problems made your nerves difficult, almost impossible to control. You should have already known that it was a bad idea to yell at poor Donna, that it would trigger a terrible crisis, but it was too late to take it back.

“W-Why are you yelling at me?” she asked, frowning, blinking in confusion, slowly moving away. “D-Don't yell at me, please…”

“Donna, I'm, I'm sorry,” you said regretfully.

Donna's crises were usually random. They used to come out of nowhere, like a horrible curse. But they could also be triggered by anything, by a misinterpreted word, by a comment, by screams like yours, lacking sense.

When you realized your mistake, it was too late. The lady in black was breathing heavily, staring at the floor.

“Donna, honey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you, I, I just…” you stammered, putting your hands on her shoulders.

“You don't love me...” she whispered, with a cold, dark look, one that pierced your aching heart. “You don't love me!”

“What? No, honey, don't say that... It was just, it was just a mistake and... Donna, don't lose your mind, please,” you said nervously, seeing how madness took over her gaze irremediably.

“You don't love me... You don't love me... Nobody loves me!” she screamed madly, pushing your hands away with a movement that caused more pain in your blows and an emerging fear in your nervous system.

“D-Donna, don't say that, I, I love you…” you whispered, approaching cautiously, trying to escape from her spasmodic movements, seeing how little by little her presence generated an unknown fear in you.

“You’re lying! Porca miseria!”  she shrieked again, kicking the coffee table, knocking over the cups on it, breaking into a thousand pieces. “You're a liar…”

That last hiss made you step back scared. For the first time that crisis wasn't horrible memories, traumas from the past. You were the cause and you didn't know what the consequences could be, but your mind was already working on imagining them.

“I-I'm not lying,” you whispered in a weak, horrified tone, one that didn't calm the lady's nerves, who approached you angrily, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt.

“You don't love me, I disgust you…” she hissed, swinging you threateningly but suddenly letting go, holding her hair tightly, complaining of an invisible pain. “Ah! No! Taci! Taci!”

Your eyes betrayed you. Her hands pulled at her hair as she shook her head. In a moment, her insane eye met yours, with a look that you mistook.

It wasn't the face of your beloved, of your girlfriend, of the woman who was the most important thing in your life. That bright rage in her eye belonged to your father, that alcoholic and deranged man. Fear rose through your body, paralyzing it, forcing it to only tremble in panic.

You began to run out of air, your heart was beating too fast. You were completely terrified.

“(Y/N)…” Donna hissed, reaching out an arm towards you.

You, seeing your father raise his hand to hit you, pulled away from her grip, running desperately in search of a place to take refuge. Sanity immediately abandoned you and you could only feel panic and terror.

“Don’t, don't hurt me!” you screamed while crying, while you took refuge in a nearby corner, covering your face defensively with your hands. “Don't hit me, please...”

The lady didn't answer but you could hear her saying things you didn't understand, fighting with herself. When that fight ended, you knew you would be next, that you would receive a well-deserved punishment for your insolence.

“Please...” you begged, closing your eyes, bringing your knees to your chest, waiting for the strong blow that never came.

“Donna, Donna!” Angie's screams sounded blurry in your mind, but you could hear them. “Bad Donna, stupid Donna! Oh, oh, eh, eh, don't do that, don't do that!”

“Angie...!” the lady screamed, crying inconsolably. “Angie…”

“Hey, hey, come on, it's all over, my Donna, nobody wants to hurt you, nobody insults you… I'm here with you… (Y/N) is… Where is she?” she finally asked.

“(Y/N)…” Donna sighed, catching her breath with a scared voice. “(Y/N)?”

“Did you hurt her, silly Donna?” Angie asked, locating you immediately and running towards you. “Bad, bad Donna!”

“W-What…? N-No…” the lady stammered, with a much calmer voice.

Fortunately, the crises passed quickly, almost always due to your words, your hugs, or the infinite affection of her doll.

“(Y/N),” the lady sighed, crouching before you, gently pushing your hands away. “Amore mio…”

“No! No please! Don't hurt me, please!” you screamed, frantically, thrashing around in place and fighting her grip. “Don’t hit me anymore!”

“Did you hit her?” Angie asked, crossing her arms.

“Of course I didn’t, I don’t think so,” she said, fighting against your spasms, against your illogical attempts to escape. “(Y/N), please…”

“I promise I’ll be good, father!” you screamed, even smelling the stale wine he was drinking. “Don’t hit me…!”

“Father?” Donna asked, letting your wrists go and forcing you to look at her.

Your face was covered in tears of terror that, unfortunately, took some of your makeup away.

“(Y/N), please react, it’s me… Tesoro, I would never hurt you, please look at me, look…” the lady stopped when her eye passed over your wounded cheek, making you blink in confusion as her hand caressed your wound. “Mio Dio…”

“No…” you sighed, crying harder, without removing the softness of her hand from your wounded cheek, burning from the touch. “No…”

“Who did…?” she asked with a broken voice, putting her hands on your shoulders. “(Y/N), look at me, who did this to you?”

“Nobody,” you answered, burying your head between your legs again, pushing the brunette away with an unpleasant push. “Nobody!”

“Donna, Donna, the shirt, lift the shirt…” Angie whispered, pulling the dress, jumping slightly on the floor. “The shirt, the shirt.”

“Cosa?” she asked confused, kneeling on the floor and bringing her hand to your side, slowly lifting your clothes, gasping in horror when she noticed the horrible marks on your skin, the bruises, your wounds... “(Y/N)…”

You didn't answer. You simply writhed in pain at her cautious touch, shaking your head.

“(Y/N)!” the enraged lady shrieked, abruptly lifting your chin. “Look at me!”

You, fearing retaliation, obeyed. Your face was torn by tears, but hers seemed serious, serene, far removed from the previous crisis.

“It was them, wasn't it?” she asked in a dull, cold tone, with an intense look. “Your parents, they did this to you.”

“N-No, I…” you stammered, shaking your head awkwardly.

“You just confirmed it to me,” Donna sighed, taking one of your hands and caressing it gently. “Gods, (Y/N), how long have you been like this?”

“S-Since I can remember,” you finally confessed. There was no more reason to keep lying. It was the moment of truth.

“Mm,” she murmured, with apparent disinterest. “Angie, stay here with her. Don't, let her out of your sight, is that clear?”

“Yes, ma'am,” the doll said, standing beside you, watching you cautiously.

“W-Where are you going?” you asked confused when you saw the woman stand up and shake off her dress, walking towards the drawer where she kept her veil. “Donna?”

“This ends here and now, (Y/N),” she said in a dark voice, hiding her face. “They won't hurt you again, ever again.”

Her voice betrayed her intentions, ones you noticed, ones that horrified you. You didn't know if it was false devotion or some kind of illness, but imagining your parents suffering Beneviento's wrath made your stomach turn, forcing you to get up and run after her.

“No, Donna, wait!” you screamed, grabbing her arm tightly, something she prevented you from doing by moving in an unpleasant way.

“Lasciami!” she shouted furiously, gently pushing you by the shoulders. “Stay here, (Y/N)”

“N-No… What, what, what are you going to do?” you asked scared. “Donna, wait…”

“Stay here,” the lady repeated, opening the door of the mansion. “Obey.”

“No! You will kill them!” you screamed, making her miraculously stop and sigh, nodding slowly.

“Yes, I'm going to kill them,” she said without remorse. “Stay here.”

“No, Donna, please no,” you said desperately, running back to her side, grabbing her by the waist. The lady in black protested again, using your blows to make you move away of your own free will. “Don’t kill them…”

“Are you asking me to let the one who hurts you live? Is that what you’re asking me!?” she screamed angrily, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.

“Please,” you sobbed, unable to reason with her anger, with her desire for revenge. No, them dying wasn’t justice, it couldn’t be. You were better than them, and you knew it. “Please, I beg you…”

“No, (Y/N),” she said, watching you kneel down, pathetically crawling towards her. “I have to protect you, otherwise, I wouldn’t have the right to love you.”

“Don’t do it, please, Donna, don’t kill them… Please…” you said, humiliating yourself even more, grabbing her legs so she couldn’t take another step.

“(Y/N), stop… Ugh, cazzo, (Y/N)…” the lady protested, kicking for you to let her go. “I won't let those beasts hurt you anymore.”

“Please…” you sobbed again, letting yourself fall on the floor. “If they die, I'll be like them… I don't want you… I don't want you to do something that horrible, please… Don't do it…” you said with an even more pitiful sob.

Luckily, Donna closed the door with a sigh, lifting you off the floor and pressing you against her, letting the crying drown in her dress.

“Not you, please, Donna… I don't want you to be like them…” you said against the fabric while her arms surrounded you lovingly. “Please…”

“Shhh, stop, (Y/N),” she whispered to you lovingly, in a different tone, pushing the veil away from her face and cupping yours in her hands. “It’s okay…”

“Donna…” you sighed, grabbing the hands that held your wounded face. “Donna, I’m, I’m scared…”

“I know… I know, tesoro… But don’t worry, it’s all over now,” she said, cradling you gently. “It’s all over now, amore mio… You’re with me… And you always will be…”

“I can’t take it anymore…”

“You won’t have to. You won’t go back to that house, (Y/N). You’ll stay with me, forever. I’ll protect you. No one will hurt you again, I promise…”

[ugly-anarchist]

Anti-masculinity as I describe it isn't supposed to be this systemic model of oppression that labels x group over here as the oppressor of y group. It's about the beliefs that people hold and the way they influence certain groups of queer people. It's more about lateral mistreatment within the queer community then it is systemic oppression or privilege. It's a unifying label of experiences. And yes... Anti-femininity exists too. Of course it does. Why the fuck are people claiming it doesn't?

Anti-masculinity is the belief that men, masculinity, or having traits that people perceive as masculine makes someone inherently predatory, abusive, or perverted. Anti-masculinity can also come in the form of forcing people into specific masculine gender roles.

Examples of anti-masculinity are: Trans men being told they're transitioning to the "problematic" gender. Trans women who don't pass being labeled as predatory and scary. Intersex people with hyperandrogenism being told their high T levels make them a threat to fem people. Butch sapphics, especially those who take T, being called traitors to their gender and forced out of sapphic spaces. Amab or masc nonbinary people who aren't accepted into "women and nonbinary" spaces because they are seen as too masculine. Bi women who like men being ostracized from sapphic spaces because "no one wants to kiss a mouth that has had a dick in it".

These people, with a variety of different labels and experiences, have a unifying experience of being targeted for traits that are seen as masculine and therefore bad. Masculinity is often seen as the enemy of queerness and this impacts the way queer people are treated within the community. Again, this isn't about systemic oppression. It's about the unfair treatment that some queer people experience because masculinity is seen as inherently predatory and men are seen as the enemy.

Yes, you can claim or argue that anti-masculinity is "just X form of oppression" but all of the things I listed stem from a hatred of masculinity. All of this would be solved if we didn't view masculinity as the enemy.

And this isn't something that is perpetuated by a single group or community either. Again, it is lateral and often self-inflicted. Sometimes very literally. A lot of people internalize anti-masculinity and inflict it on themselves. They feel shame for liking men, being men, or looking masculine.

In order to be accepting of all queer people we need to unlearn anti-masculinity and judge others by their actions. Not the gender they identify as, how they present, or what physical traits they have that are out of their control. No one should feel bad or ashamed for who they're attracted to, what they look like, or what their gender is. I kind of thought that was the point of the queer community but apparently some people on tumblr have forgotten that.

[helslastangel]

I wonder sometimes if these super blunt rude astrologers write about their personal placements as harshly as they do the ones of people they happen to dislike. If so, then cool. I can respect that.

But I read some posts and it's like.... girl. It's so obvious which sign/element/planet combos or aspects you personally hate, lol.

Maybe this is my Libra mercury talking. But sometimes I take really long to write observations because I'm proofreading them for signs of unfairness. When I can, I'll look at my previous posts to see if I was harsh on a placement last time so I can focus on something positive for them in the next one. And vice versa.

I literally feel bad if I reread my old stuff and realize I dragged a particular placement twice in a row without something nice in between. I don't understand people who can't really seem to separate placements from specific people they dislike. And I don't want to understand them tbh. Coming from someone who usually asks "why" for every damn thing, even against my better judgement.

The worst treatment I've ever received in my life was from Scorpio + Cancer men and Pisces + Gemini women. Yet, you will never catch me writing post after post villainizing those placements. Some of my sweetest friendship moments were also with people having sun, moon or other major placements in those same 4 signs.

To get up every day and go on and on negatively about the same placement over and over just tells me that someone can't distinguish where their personal dynamic with specific people ends and the more generally applicable aspects of astrology begin.

I wish I could invent some kind of mind scanner that could instantly display anyone's big 5 and give the prototype to these kinds of people. Just so they could go around and find out how many people they're getting along with JUST fine right now who have all the placements they hate. I know I've said this before but it's something that really rubs me the wrong way and I usually end up unfollowing if I notice a pattern of that in someone's posts. Yeah no. Especially if I get the impression someone is a mean girl astrologer. Nah. Take that energy to Twitter.

[jjkyaoi]

a photographer told chappell to shut the fuck up at the vmas and she, rightfully, shut that shit down and told HIM to stfu. and now suddenly she’s the massive bitch AGAIN who can’t handle publicity and needs to be taken down a peg. hjmmm.. it’s almost as if, you guys are all for women speaking up for themselves and fighting against unfair treatment specifically from men until it’s not an imaginary scenario you’ve conceived in your mind and it actually happens and they aren’t perfectly nice about it. uhuh. uhuh. don’t mind me js taking notes

[youremyheaven]

The Spectrum of Femininity & Cancer Rashi: A Study

in my previous posts, i had delved into why Punarvasu & Pushya women are often considered the feminine ideal and the various archetypes they present on the screen and in real life (look out for more posts regarding the same!!) and i had mentioned a little bit about the feminine spectrum as seen through nakshatras in the cancer rashi, in this post, im going to explore this further.

Cancer rashi consists of 3 nakshatras:

Punarvasu 20 degree gemini to 3 degree cancer

Pushya 3-16 degree cancer

Ashlesha- 16-29 degree cancer

Tropically Ashlesha is entirely Leo and the nakshatra of Ardra is sidereally entirely Gemini; this means only Punarvasu & Pushya remain in the Cancer rashi in both tropical and vedic systems.

We must understand the feminine journey through these nakshatras as they appear, so we will begin with;

Ardra

This nakshatra is associated with destruction and transformation. This nak's deity is Rudra, the most aggressive form of Lord Shiva. Ardra is associated with purification and renewal through demolition. it is also associated with storms and is symbolized by a teardrop.

The mythology of Ardra nakshatra can be briefly summarised as follows:

Lord Brahma desired his own daughter, and knowing this,the other celestial Gods were enraged and their collective fury gave birth to Rudra.

Rudra's purpose was to prevent this incestuous union, he thus slayed him but the other Gods felt regretful about the whole situation and disowned Rudra.

Rudra is heartbroken at this unjust and unfair treatment; his teardrops come down as thunderous storms.

Given this context, I have often noticed with Ardra women that they tend to be Gamines.

A Gamine is defined as a "young woman who is attractively boyish or possessing a mischievous boyish charm"

These natives tend to be slightly androgynous; there is a conflict between masculine and feminine energies.

The most famous Gamine of all time, Audrey Hepburn had Shatabhisha moon (another Rahu ruled nak).

I have already mentioned that Ingenues in cinema tend to be played by Rohini, Mrigashira, Punarvasu & Pushya natives, who also tend to possess Ingenue essence

However, although they're both youthful, Ingenue & Gamine essence are entirely distinct from each other.

Ingenue is pure yin, whereas Gamine is yang with a yin undercurrent. There is a hint of femininity; one that is not fully developed. It is NOT a mature, womanly, grown up energy but rather an adolescent, in the process of blossoming, kind.

Here are some Gamine (essence) celebs:

Ariana Grande- Ardra sun

Charli XcX- Ardra rising

Leslie Caron- Ardra sun conjunct mercury

Lea Seydoux, Ardra sun

Cyndi Lauper, Ardra sun

Aubrey Plaza, Ardra sun

Princess Diana, Ardra sun

Carly Simon, Ardra sun

Kristin Kreuk who is Ardra moon

Nicole Richie who is Ardra moon

Stella McCartney also Ardra moon

You can see how these women project a delicate, youthful boyish charm.

Rahu is a shadow planet, it does not have any light of its own and thus seeks to absorb light from other sources. This is a very Yin principle and thereby Rahu is the most feminine after Venus. However the feminine energy as we understand it through the nakshatras in Cancer rashi is not just about absorbing energy or holding energy but it is the ability to give and accommodate that Yin space internally. These natives can absorb energy but cannot retain it.

2. Punarvasu

these natives have weathered the storm of Ardra and now seek safety and shelter, hence why a common archetype Punarvasu women seem to play on screen is that of the Ingenue. the youthful, slightly naïve and clueless creature who has to be helped.

the main distinction between an ingenue and a gamine is the fact that the former is naive and innocent whereas the latter is mischievous and teasing. Many Punarvasu women possess an Ingenue essence;

Miranda Kerr, Punarvasu moon

Drew Barrymore, Punarvasu moon

Kristen Bell, Punarvasu sun

Karina, Punarvasu moon

Punarvasu women are known for their bubbly, effervescent personalities. wide-eyed and happy-go-lucky, these natives are usually very chirpy and charming. They're like the main lead in a romcom; very easy to like, deeply perceptive but endearingly clueless at the same time.

from the wide eyed, innocent ingenue, Punarvasu women mature into the Ideal Woman. it is well known that most Punarvasu women marry well, from Kate Middleton (Punarvasu moon) who married Prince William to Miranda Kerr (Punarvasu moon) who is married to the CEO of Snapchat.

another archetype that the Punarvasu woman represents is the Mother. they contain the vast abundance of the cosmos, they are natural givers and their deity is the Mother Goddess Aditi herself. the downside of this is that they can often be enablers; unnecessarily expending their empathy to those who do not deserve it.

Kris Jenner, probably the most famous mom of our times (lol) is a Punarvasu moon. besides Kylie, all her children tend to treat her poorly (Punarvasu being an enabler trope).

Sofia Vergara played one of the most well known fictional moms on TV. She has sun & moon in Punarvasu. even on the show, there are numerous instances where Gloria is taken for granted.

Morticia Addams was both the Trophy Wife/Ideal Woman and the best mom ever (if you've watched the movie, you'll know). She was played by Anjelica Huston who has Punarvasu sun

probably the most famous fictional mom, Maria from the Sound of Music is played by Julie Andrews has Ketu in Punarvasu

3. Pushya

after the abundance of Punarvasu, comes the restriction of Pushya, it concerns itself with holding energy. Punarvasu is ruled by Jupiter which allows for limitless expansion but Pushya is governed by the limitations of Saturn.

these women are highly desirable and much sought after, but its almost like they cant enjoy themselves too much. there are always certain terms that they have to live with. Saturn is structure and discipline, as well as karma and punishment, so it makes sense why these natives seem to live their lives experiencing abundance and lack, almost simultaneously.

in the movie Malena, the protagonist is a widow living alone in a small Italian town. she is desired by everyone; sexualised and even stalked. i had already talked about how Pushya/Punarvasu create women who are highly sought after by men.

the main dilemma in this movie rests on the fact that even though the whole town is obsessed with Malena, she does not benefit from it; she is dehumanized and subject to a lot of cruelty. a pitfall of being so desired is that, while others seem intrigued by Pushya, not everyone understands Pushya natives.

Malena is played by Monica Bellucci who has Pushya moon.

Paris Hilton, Pushya moon was born to riches, however she suffered horrific abuse as a teenager and struggled in her personal life for a very long time. Paris is the quintessential "poor little rich girl". She was subject to sexual and institutional violence but not many people see her in that light at all. Most people view her as a spoilt brat and an airhead.

fun fact, the character London Tipton from the show Suite Life of Zack & Cody was based on Paris Hilton. Tipton is also emotionally neglected by her father and lives alone in her family's hotel. Brenda Song who played London Tipton is a Pushya moon like Paris herself.

here's an excerpt from one of Paris Hilton's interviews:

The irony, she says now, is that she became this icon of licentiousness when she wasn’t even promiscuous. “I was portraying this sex-symbol vibe, but inside I did not feel that way at all. And I did not trust anyone because I had such huge walls that I built around my heart. I didn’t want to let anyone in, and I didn’t want to be hurt, so I didn’t want to ever give myself to someone.”

this to me is very Punarvasu & Pushya coded. these women are sexualised to the nth degree but they're usually sexually conservative and often have very few partners.

Selena Gomez, Pushya stellium (sun, venus & rising)

Selena is one of the wealthiest celebrities in the world and her cosmetics line is one of the most successful celebrity makeup ventures ever, however her personal life has always been troubled, from her chronic illness to her dating history and most recently, there has been disturbing news about how The Idol starring her ex, The Weeknd is heavily inspired by her life and struggles.

Selena is a highly desirable woman, she's been at the top of the game for so long but she's still discredited as a singer and not taken seriously and in recent years, her appearance has been ridiculed and was subject to horrible bodyshaming despite the fact that her struggle with her illness is well known. Pushya is known as a wealth giving nakshatra but it also subjects the native to a lot of struggles.

Celine Dion, Pushya rising

Celine Dion was 12 years old when she met 38 year old Rene Angelil, who would go on to become her manager and husband. It's only logical to assume that he groomed her but Dion's life has had many struggles, she grew up underprivileged and was recently diagnosed with a rare chronic illness.

in the movie Million Dollar Baby, Maggie is a poor waitress who trains and works very hard to become a boxer. however, she is critically injured and cannot fight again, her family proves to be selfish jerks and she meets with a tragic ending. This is a very cautionary Saturnian story of working hard, succeeding, and still meeting difficulties, representing the dark side of Saturn. Maggie is played by Hillary Swank who is Pushya Sun.

Angelina Jolie, Pushya rising

Jolie has had a very difficult life, she battled eating disorders, suicidal tendencies, self-harm, drug addiction and despite being a wealthy, desirable woman, struggles in her personal life (including TW domestic violence)

Jolie is another one of those celebrities who cant seem to catch a break. A highly desirable woman, wanted by everyone, but understood by very few.

Pushya gives the native the ability to hold vast amounts of energy but they're unable to expand it. They seem to face barriers and limitations that prevent them from expanding fully. The feminine energy here is one that has to work hard and discipline themselves. they cultivate grace intentionally. they have to strive to achieve emotional fulfillment. The giving feminine of Punarvasu becomes the restrained feminine in Pushya.

in Punarvasu, we saw the giving nature of the feminine, they seem to have an endless reservoir of compassion, empathy and yin energy. the downside of this is that they're easily taken advantage of, and they're too forgiving of others; their insistence on taking the high road means others who are less deserving get further ahead than them in shorter spans of time. but it is this refinement, and natural elan that makes them the "Ideal Woman". Jupiter's magnificence means that these women possess the kind of vast mental space others can't even conceive of; this creates intrigue as to how they never seem to run out of "energy" (i use this term in its spiritual sense).

in Pushya, we saw the restrained feminine, they work hard and strive to get where they are, however, they seem to operate within a box, they're the beautiful bird within a gilded cage. the reason why this nak is considered the height of femininity is because of the discipline it takes to wield the yin energy consciously and with reservation. Punarvasu seems to give to everyone without discrimination; she's the Celestial Mother but it is very crucial to learn how to discriminate and in Pushya, presided by Saturn, we learn to control and channel our femininity and yin energy in a discriminate manner. not everyone can have them, this makes them all the more appealing.

4. Ashlesha

the very last nak in the Cancer rashi and one which lies entirely in Cancer is Ashlesha. after the giving and holding stages of the feminine, in Ashlesha, we come to confront the dark feminine.

every peak is followed by a valley; in Pushya we reached the height of femininity and now there is a reversal almost, a return to girlhood and unrefined femininity.

there is a descension to darkness and there is a desire to return to the self and to exist for one's self. we've seen how Pushya women often lead difficult lives, now, in Ashlesha, femininity enters its villain era. Its done being treated unfairly and poorly, so in Ashlesha, we see the manifestation of the dark feminine.

Ashlesha is associated with tantra; ascending above the giving traditional feminine and embracing the demonic feminine.

Megan Fox, Ashlesha moon

Jennifer's Body depicts Ashlesha's unique feminine journey quite well. Jennifer is taken advantage of and almost sacrificed but in the process she gains supernatural powers and feasts on boys to maintain it. This trope of being abused, gaining power and using it to get back at people who caused their suffering or represent it is a very common Ashlesha trope.

Charlize Theron, Ashlesha Sun

in the movie Monster (based on a true story), Charlize plays a prostitute who is raped and abused; she in turn becomes a serial killer who kills her clients

This is a very common Ashlesha trope that I will explore more in future posts!!

the earliest a woman was unburdened was in girlhood but if you really think about it, girlhood was a time when you had no agency and no voice; a child is a powerless creature and has to wield their emotions to get by (by throwing tantrums, by being coy etc). children are expected to behave a certain way; they're rewarded for good behaviour and punished for bad. the burden of femininity is absent but with it goes feminine power. thus an Ashlesha native has to resort to other ways to wield their power. this is where the demonic feminine comes to play.

these individuals are self-contained because they have a tendency to think that they could be taken advantage of if they're too trusting. remember how little kids are warned? don't talk to strangers, don't go after the nice man offering candy. children are taught to be afraid and mistrusting, to be alert and cautious, for their own sake/safety.

this nakshatra's deity is Naga (a serpent God of the underworld) and if you think about how snakes are, they are creatures who are entirely limbless, they live on the ground, they rely on their intuition to sense danger, and their only defense is the venom they hold in their body, without which they're utterly helpless. but being highly poisonous, they can destroy any creature in an instant, no matter how big or strong the creature is. they cannot fight the way other animals do, they are not designed that way. this is true of Ashlesha natives as well. they have to be stealthy, secretive, cautious, and manipulative (the word manipulation is often interpreted negatively but even charisma is manipulation, so its all about how its wielded)

Ashlesha is Mercury ruled, mercury is a "eunuch" planet and is genderless. to me it represents the pre-pubescent stage where an individual has not yet attained sexual maturity; in this stage, the native is sexually curious, and wildly imaginative but both afraid and incapable of true intimacy.

Mercury is the smallest planet, therefore these natives do not have the vast emotional reservoir of say Punarvasu or Pushya (which is not to say they're not emotional) thus they're unable to give their energy to others. They're very picky and very deliberate with who they give their energy because they feel drained very easily. But what they lack in the emotional sphere they compensate with intellect. Mercury-ruled nakshatras always give the native raw natural intelligence. these natives are very smart.

Lana Del Rey is Ashlesha Moon. Early on in her career, she was accused of being fake & inauthentic. She sang about sadness and sugar daddies in a way that presented itself as an aesthetic and gave rise to the whole girlblogger/coquette community for whom she is the patron saint. Lana has moved on to other concepts with her albums but her influence over this community continues to stay. Her music heavily features an abusive figure, heavy doses of melancholy, and an unhealthy obsession with money & glamour, even though the subject matter is sad, she sets it up in the most theatrical of ways.

most importantly, she presents herself in her songs as this naïve, lost, perpetually sad, self-loathing creature, presenting the feminine in a way that it seldom is presented. this female gaze is what has made her soooo relatable to so many young girls and women.

in fact the coquette community itself is very Ashlesha coded imo, embracing girliness over womanliness, "gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss", "female manipulator", you name it, there is an undeniable Ashlesha influence at play, including the fact that many of its figureheads have Ashlesha placements.

Vera Farmiga, Ashlesha Sun played Norma in Bates Motel. both her character and the show itself feature many Ashlesha tropes.

Norma is a very possessive, overprotective mother (Cancer women have complicated relationships with their mothers, this manifests in the most toxic way in Ashlesha), here the Ashlesha native plays the Mother and (spoiler alert) her son develops an alternate personality that is an extension of Mother, killing anyone he thinks could pose a threat to their relationship. Norma grew up in an abusive home and faces abuse at the hands of men all her life. The entire show revolves around this dysfunctional Mother-Son relationship with the son embodying his Mother.

Cancer rashi nakshatras are passive by nature and this is taken to new lengths in Ashlesha which is the concluding Cancer nakshatra. these natives cannot seem to do things in a straightforward way, ruled by the smallest planet Mercury which governs the intellect, these natives achieve whatever they want by playing mind games (if unevolved) or by using their intellect (if evolved).

The reason Jupiter is known for always taking the high road is because it has the expansiveness to do so. Mercury gives very little space inwardly so they have to be emotionally conservative and frugal. This is why they seem manipulative to others; they have to use their limited resources to achieve what they want, they cannot "give endlessly".

its interesting how Cancer rashi concludes itself in a Mercury ruled nak since Cancer is Moon ruled and feminine and Mercury is a "eunuch" planet and without gender. The feminine journey had its seeds in the feminine but malefic nakshatra of Ardra; which contributes to the androgyny of these natives (primarily yang but with a hint of yin), developing into the Ingenue (or Maiden) and Mother in Punarvasu, both of whom give endlessly because of naivete and later because of compassion, then learning restraint & discrimination in Pushya (the height of femininity) where natives experience abundance but cannot indulge in it fully ( Saturn teaching discipline). In Ashlesha, we see the dark feminine, rising above everything a woman should "ideally" be. There is nothing "ideal" about Ashlesha, it represents that which is considered taboo, it is an outcast nakshatra and depicts raw, unrefined femininity.

Excluding Rahu ruled Ardra, the Cancer rashi spans nakshatras ruled by Jupiter, Saturn and concludes in Mercury. Both Jupiter & Saturn are masculine planets and Mercury is an eunuch planet. Feminine energy at its most expansive is Punarvasu and at its height, its in Saturn, and its "valley" venturing into its darkness is Mercury which rules the mind. This is a very interesting journey, representative of an experience most women are familiar with; women are expected to be givers, but later, with experience learn how to discriminate with their giving and ultimately decide to put themselves first and be, selectively selfish.

I hope this was interesting<33