#you may call it stage fear people

[akkivee]

For the next BAT audio drama I kinda hope they put Kuukou through the horrors, I love Kuukou and all but I want to know what the absolute fuck is his problem. I really hope we get to finally find out what happened to Mama Harai. What I think happened to Mama Harai is something involving the ocean, I always found it ironic that Kuukou dislikes the ocean considering where he lives so I thought maybe that has to do with Mama Harai not being around.

all i want is for kuukou to have fun and live life but yeah, we have reached the point where it’ll be straight bizarre if we don’t get his backstory lol. kuukou enjoying nature to the point he takes solace in it but dislikes the ocean is soooo telling

and so i hope it’s mama harai too lol!!!!! whether the drama is she gave kuukou a reason to hate the ocean, or is the reason he hates smoking and alcohol, or is the reason he naturally turns to self sacrifice, or all of the above!!!!! i would like to know lol!!!!!

[soldiersgirl]

— 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲/𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨 .ᐟ

summary — the people's princess and the people's prince, that's what you were promised. the reality? he was the best worst thing to happen to you, yet.

cw — supe!fem!reader x soldier boy. payback era. 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it), spit kink, teasing, corruption kink (kinda), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, name calling (slut, whore, princess, baby, sweetheart, angel), degradation, cursing, edging, riding, drugs, drinking, mentions of manipulation blackmail, mean & soft ben.

word count — 3,844 words

you were laying there, in the haze of the moment, trying to remember a time before him, before all the chaos and turmoil. life had been calm, somewhat boring, but tolerable before being head-hunted by vought. life in a rural, suburban town had its perks; you knew everyone and everyone trusted you despite your... curse, as you called it; "powers" by everyone else.

they weren't super powers, they weren't a gift. it was a curse set upon you; the responsibility too big to bear for only a little girl when they first showed up. the mind reading and mind control. touching your mum's hand in comfort and seeing her whole life flash before your eyes; her thoughts, her wants, her sins. the same with your father.

you hadn't, willingly, let anyone touch you for 20 years, not up until you were thrusted into the spotlight and ben's experienced hands.

he had crushed the bennies with the bottom of his hunting knife on the edge of his bedside table before lining up the fine powder over the valley of your bare breasts. he couldn't coerce you into taking them with him like he wanted, so he had to resort to taking them off you instead. you lay with bated breath as he chuckles to himself before snorting the drug, his nose dragging over your full breasts; his hands cupping them softly to make sure you keep still. unlike last time, when you fucking spilled the powder all over and he had to lick it off of you like a dog, lapping at his water-bowl. you can't help but admire his hardened features as he pinches his nose and rests his head on your breast, feeling the full effect of the drugs.

the freckles that dance over his nose, his moss green eyes and the gentle wrinkles surrounding them, his plush rose lips, that both spit venom and whisper honeyed words.

for as long as you can remember, no one touched your bare skin unless it was arranged and paid for, by your parents. while you were still young and impressionable, they talked you into "using your powers for good". people paid you, or rather your parents, to make you control them, "help" them. help addicts drop their addiction, no matter what it may be. help people work harder, better to get that promotion. help politicians get votes, get laws passed. help people fall in and out of love. no matter what it was, it had a price and many were desperate enough to pay it. it was a vicious, endless cycle but you were seen as a selfless saviour to those in need.

which is exactly why vought wanted you, needed you. some recent controversies and mild scandals had landed payback in hot water with the board members and pr team. allegations of drug use, violent bar fights, bribing, sex. you name it and the members of payback had probably done it. and here you came in, to save their name and reputation.

the crowd cheered as you stumbled onto the stage, the board members sitting front row looking pleased with themselves and payback sneering behind you, their eyes silently warning you; threatening. your hair had been curled and styled to perfection and you had been forced into a, somewhat, modest lilac suit that hugged each curve deliciously; if you asked soldier boy. along with matching gloves to keep you from accidentally reading someone's mind.

it was a fear that you carried with you at all times. with just a brush or graze of your hands against theirs; all their deep, dark secrets spilled and exposed. no matter what or how much you saw, you kept it all tightly locked up and pushed deep down so that it would never spill over the surface. you could barely live with yourself anyway, but it wasn't your place to ruin others lives in return.

"mystara!" the host announced as he slipped his arms around your shoulder and shook you as you forced a smile. "small town girl coming to big town new york! us, at vought, are delighted to announce that she'll be joining your favourite team, paybaaaack!" he pointed back at the vexed members who all plastered on fake smiles, similar to yours. they all waved ceremoniously, arrogantly to the crowd. soldier boy swaggered forward, pushed the host back to replace his arm around your shoulder and grabbed the mic from the host with a smirk.

"we are more than thrilled to have such a beautiful addition to our team. especially as she is my new girlfriend!" he said through gritted teeth. vought had worked hard to ensure that the marketing was in place. pairing you and soldier boy would only increase numbers. the soft-spoken mind-reader with the brutish, rough killer? it was almost too good and too easy. "we can't wait to work with her and make her a valued member of the team. ain't that right, sweetheart?" he turned and your eyes finally met. you could barely manage to keep the eye contact, his eyes demanding your attention as he held the microphone to your quivering lips. all you could hear was crimson countess scoffing behind the pair of you.

"thank you, s-soldier boy. i am so pleased to be here, so excited for this opportunity. i owe this to my parents, stan edgar and most importantly you, b-babe." you stuttered through your PR approved speech. soldier boy planted an unexpected kiss on your cheek before hissing in your ear.

"if you ever use any of your fuckin' tricks on me, i'll destroy your fuckin' pathetic, little life. you got that, sweetheart?" all you could do was stand frozen and just nod. "atta girl." he laughs and gives your ass a small pat.

"if only they could see you now, baby, hmm?" ben sighs as he pepper kisses across your breasts, his tongue poking out and flicking at your hardened nipple, chuckling as you squirm. "not so sweet and innocent as you would have them all believe." he hums as he sucks at one nipple and pinches the other, whilst whimpers fall past your bitten lips. "who knew you could be such a whore? such a sweet, obedient whore for me..." he groans as he leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses down your heaving chest and tensed stomach.

"you're so mean." you huff in protest, arching your back to feel his lips better against your supple skin.

"shut the fuck up, you love it." he scoffs, swiping his fingers through your folds and admiring the slick that adorns his fingers. "look how fucking wet you are and i've barely even touched you." his eyes sparkle as he brings his fingers to your mouth, inviting you to taste. your defiance isn't appreciated and he roughly grabs your jaw, forcing your mouth open and stuffing his fingers against the pad of your tongue. "fuuuck, sweetheart." his voice filled with adoration as you wildly suck and run your tongue over his fingers.

he knew he destroyed everything he touched, but he just couldn't keep his hands off of you. since he first saw you, he just knew that you were the one for him. underneath your innocent eyes and soft-spoken nature, you were hungry for acceptance; for someone to love you for you and not fear you. a feeling he mirrored and knew all too well.

he pulled back his hand, a string of saliva connecting his digits to your panting mouth. he slightly slaps your clit with his spit-covered fingers, messily running them back and forth over your most sensitive spot, relishing in your pleading.

"ben, ben- please, oh fuck-" you beg, as your hands pull and tug on the cotton sheets beneath you. it only ignites ben's excitement as he roughly spits on your pussy before dragging up pointed tongue up through your folds and settling on your tortured clit. he hungrily devours you as he wraps his toned arms around your thighs and tries, but fails, to keep you still as you feverishly buck your hips against his gifted tongue.

"god, you're so fuckin' needy, aren't you? always fuckin' beggin' and pleading for me." he mumbles against your folds, his tongue still working to pull the first orgasm out of you. "you're just my lil needy princess, aren't you? does my princess want to cum on soldier boy's tongue?" you can only squeeze your eyes shut and nod as your senses are overwhelmed. "look at me." another slap against your pussy. "look. at. me." ben demands. his eyes could burn a whole through yours with the intensity of his gaze as you start to lose control and cum all over his tongue. he loosens his grip on you and let you grind your pussy against his tongue, as he smirks and savours your taste coating his tongue.

ben wastes no time climbing on top of you, smashing his lips onto yours and your tongues intertwining with one another. to your surprise, he pauses to rest his forehead against yours and stroke your cheek.

it took you weeks to settle into your room and role at payback, no one took you seriously but simultaneously they feared you. dodged you when you got too close, afraid of what you would see, of what you would think of them. ironically, you didn't care enough to want to know their secrets and regrets, you could barely carry those you already had tried to forget.

but what you had forgotten is that your life wasn't yours to control. you were nothing but a puppet to the company that had threatened to "send you away" if you didn't comply.

you would pose as a secretary during vought meetings with a wig and all, shaking hands with international elected officials and relaying the information to vought management for extortion and blackmail purposes. influencing presidents, CEOs, and industry moguls to strategically invest in vought and help pass supe-positive laws to allow more human testing and production of compound v. anything to make vought more money.

however, it didn't stop there. the more power-hungry vought got, the more you were pushed around and forced to go against your morals. over the past several weeks, you had been sneaking into the payback member's individual rooms to gain intel and to make them more... complacent to voughts ideas and suggestions. but when it came to soldier boy, you flat-out refused. no matter how much you screamed and shouted at your managers, your worries were pushed aside.

that's how you found yourself sneaking into his room against your own will and better judgement. he looked so vulnerable when he slept, his brows furrowed only slightly and his hair swept beautifully across his hardened features. you're not sure how long you just stood there and just admired him, wanting nothing more than to just reach out and touch...

what you hadn't known that night, was that soldier boy was wide awake. he wasn't surprised; he knew why you were there and what vought was up to. but what surprised him was that you just left, without using your powers on him like he had expected and defying vought.

he thought about you for days until one evening, he thought it was finally time to confront you, to get some fucking answers. it was just after midnight and all the members had gone to bed after some heavy drinking and drug-taking in the payback conference room; everyone except you. you were never invited and never expected and that suited you just fine. you had witnessed how that shit could destroy lives too many times to count and you heeded the warnings. three loud knocks rapped at your door pulling you out of your thoughts. you sat your book down, instinctively pulled on your gloves, padded over barefoot and opened your door.

"s-soldier boy." you gasped. he looked down at you with a sneer, his brows in a deep frown and his soft, unstyled hair falling just in front of his analysing eyes. he simply grunted as he looked you over; no makeup, messy hair, pink pyjama set and your fuckin' gloves. he silently pushed past you and walked into your bedroom, leaving you frozen and confused at your door. you quickly closed the door and turned to the contrasting, intimidating figure in your girly bedroom. like a western stand-off, you both stood and just watched one another, waiting to see who'd break first.

"why?" he barked at you, making you flinch.

"why what, sir?" you asked carefully.

"don't give me that sir bullshit." he snorted. "do you think i'm fucking stupid, huh? why didn't you touch me that night with your freaky-ass powers? i know you're doing it to all the others, by the way. i've seen how you sneak in and out of their rooms, how they're suddenly acting different and think everythin' vought does is just revolutionary. i see you." with each sentence, he makes his way over to you right until he's towering over you. you feel like a wounded animal at the end of a hunter's gun, silently begging for freedom.

"i- i couldn't. i was afraid of what i'll see. afraid of how you would react if you worked it out. afraid of you." you quietly admit, deciding it's better to be truthful and once you started, it was hard to stop.

"but what if i wanted you to see?" he muttered in response.

he had pushed and folded your legs tightly against your chest as he mercilessly pounded his thick cock into you, with one hand wrapped tightly around your dainty throat and the other grabbing your thigh to stabilise himself. the only sounds filling the room were your hushed begging and ben whispering the most foul words into your ear as you came undone under him.

"god, please- ben, im so close, please.." you begged endlessly and breathlessly as his grip on your throat tightens.

"always so fuckin' tight, princess. god, you're so cock-hungry, it just keeps suckin' me in. fuck." he groans as his stubble rubs against your ear. his hips snap ruthlessly against yours, your gummy walls contracting and clamping around him. "d'you wanna come, baby? gonna cum all over my cock, like the slut you are?" as your eyes roll into your head, you somehow manage to nod and let out a weak "yes, please...". his teeth nipped and tugged on your ears before travelling down and leaving sloppy kisses all down your neck before biting down on your shoulder. marking your silky skin and watching with glee as the teeth marks decorate your skin as a reminder of who you belong to.

he pealed himself away to gaze softly down at you and your completely fucked-out state. god, he was convinced that he would never grow tired of this sight, which is why he immediately stopped, leaving you high and dry. tears threaten to form and roll down your reddened cheeks as you stare at him, mouth agape and band right about to snap.

"my sweet angel, i'm not done with you yet." he hums as turns you over onto all fours and slowly starts to thrust again as he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, starting the torturous process all over again.

he had grabbed your wrist and slipped off your glove as you fought and yelled in protest. this is the last thing you wanted. you weren't ready to face the horrors that his psyche hid. but he wanted to give you the full truth so he could pour some out and share the in the guilt you carried, together.

"stop!" you yell out. "no, fuck! don't, plea-" his fingers had intertwined with yours and everything flashed before your eyes like a bomb had gone off behind your eyes.

his abusive father, his distant mother, his trauma-filled boarding school days, injecting the compound v and the pain that followed. all the fake pr stunts; normandy beach, ww2, helping the soldiers. the drugs, the women, the drinking. killing, murders, bodies beaten to a pulp. the desperate need for approval, for acceptance, for something real. like you, his life was no longer his and he feared the worst. the last thing that appeared in front of your eyes was as clear as day: his dirty, unfiltered thoughts of you.

you wrenched your hand from his grip and staggered back, your mind a whirlwind.

"don't ever fucking do that again." your chest heaved with anger. "you don't have the fucking right to do that! no matter who you are!" you snatched back your glove and put it on.

"did you see it all?" he asked calmly. not what you expected.

"i saw everything." you nod.

"... and?"

suddenly, the towering figure in front of you had transformed into the young boy who yearned for love and understanding. he had never wanted to be feared but it was wired into his new dna and he couldn't shake it no matter how much he wanted to. you couldn't help but soften up and almost... pity him.

"and i see you." you repeat his earlier words back to him. he lets out a loud sigh and runs a hand over his rugged face. "i- i had no idea. about everything. i'm sorry." ben scoffs in response.

"i don't need your fucking sympathy. i just needed you to know that..." he hesitated. "i understand and i'm not afraid of you. you shouldn't be afraid of me. i don't want you to be." he edges closer to you, grabbing the tips of your gloves and slowly sliding them off, his eyes never leaving yours. he held your hands in his as if they were porcelain, bringing one up and kissing one of your fingertips to show the depth of his words. "our hands are weapons used against our will. but together, you and me, we can resurrect something beautiful."

"ben." you gasp, all of this unexpected.

"you know i want this. my dirty thoughts of you, they were never mine to keep." he sighed before leaning down, ever so slightly, and brushing his lips against yours. you grab the back of his neck and bring his lips to yours in a heated clash of tongues and teeth. you knew he was going to wreck you, but you wanted nothing more than to give in and seek comfort in your american psycho.

that's how you ended up here; riding ben like your life depended on it. your tight walls hugging bens cock like your pussy was made for him and his hands fitting perfectly on your hips as he guided you. he swallowed your loud moans as your lips tangled together and your tongues intertwined. his hips bucking up to match your frenzied tempo as you lost yourself in the sensation of being completely filled by him. he threads his finger through your hair and tugs on it, yanking your head back, making you yelp and hiss in pain.

"i love the way you hurt me." you rasp out in between rough thrusts and playful bites across your chest; the harsh purple bruises a contrast to your delicate nature. ben grins against your neck as he reaches around and slaps your ass with a groan.

"god, i have really fucked you up, haven't i? my baby, so fuckin' dirty." he chuckles as he leans back and folds his arms behind his head to watch the show you're putting on for him. "show me how much you fuckin' need me and i might let you come on my cock." you claw at his chest with your lilac nails, that match your supe-suit, as you grind down onto him with full force. the sweat cascading down your back and slick covering ben's thick thighs.

that was a pro and con of being supes; you could fuck for hours, but you could also get fucked for hours without room for a breather. you were sure that ben had fucked you stupid after edging you on for what felt like hours as he rides his bennie-filled high and gets to see how you fall apart under him.

"you know that only good sluts get to come on my cock, don't you?" he laughs as you notice your pace slacking, your body soon couldn't take anymore. he forcefully grabs your jaw; his pupils completely blown leaving only a ring of bright green around them. he taps your lips and you open them with a second thought, something that he programmed into you. he spits into your mouth and watches adoringly as you roll it around in your mouth before swallowing it and resuming your previous frenzied pace. his rough hands grab your hips, squeezing your supple skin as he fucks his cock deeper into you. within seconds, you're finally coming all over him as you curse and pant his name like a prayer.

"fuck- nggh, oh my fucking god, ben.. ben, ben!" you shout as he comes with you; the feeling of being filled with him was like no other. he lazily thrusts into you whilst carefully laying you on your back and adorning your face with soft kisses and whispered "good girl"'s. you share one final, deep kiss; filled with unsaid emotions and promises to one another before he lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom to get you cleaned up.

two misplaced puzzle pieces, finally belonging and forming a picture no one else could see.

you weren't sure who affected who more. you had been introduced to the world of desire and sin by ben; he was your first everything and he revelled in that fact. knowing no one had heard or seen you the way he does, fuck. it was like a whole new drug and it's potency was almost deadly. you had gotten more calculated, with his encouragement, and were using your powers for your own good and not just at the behest of whoever held your leash. you confronted your parents and had cut off the contact, although the damage was done. you were still the people's soft princess to the adoring crowds, but you had evolved into something more sinister; more selfish. and nothing could get in your way now.

in comparison, ben had gotten calmer. he didn't throw himself into women, drinking and drugs like before, only occasionally dabbling in taking a hit or two of whatever he had lying around. men like him is what love destroys and his harsh outer layer was slowly eroding. his vicious appetite for destruction and violence needed less feeding and attention. his sole purpose was to protect you and ensure that you both would never be denied the happiness he knew you deserved. he considered what was better; to be feared or to be loved. but he had come to the conclusion that "one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, it is much safer to be feared than loved."

thanks to you, he had both.

a/n: WELL. i hope you like this one too guys; it was so much fun to write and rather self-indulgent. i'm considering ACTUALLY make this fic a series, i love their dynamic. this was based on another favourite song of mine that immediately makes me think of the loml, ben, when i hear it <3 long live fall out boy

-`♡´- tag list: @bluemerakis @legalmente-loca @faiszt @vmiina @emeraldcrs @briiverse @figthoughts @sl33pylilbunny @jasvtsc @silverwoodlynx @kayleighwinchester @bejeweledinterludes @yooyieu @nperoconelcositoarriba @lanasgirlfr @velvetdandeli0n @iluvdeanwinchester @doeinlace (comment or inbox me to be added)

[spencersmopbucket]

Ocean Breeze | Finnick Odair x Reader

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Summary: You, this year's victor from District Four, return home after your victory. Finnick takes an interest in your deep, seemingly impenetrable personality. You didn't plan on letting him in, but.. Finnick is Finnick after all.

Expert brutality. In every news headline, in every advertisement of the Games, those were the words in big, bold letters. And who was on display, fingers tinted with blood and scars on their face?

You.

You were this year's Victor. You'd fought through the games -- tooth, nail, and fish hook. You always scoffed bitterly at every photo and comment you saw of yourself, your e/c eyes narrowing with disdain and something almost close to pain. Despite being good at hiding it, it was still there. It ebbed and flowed, reminding you every day of who you now were and what you'd be recognized for.

You were Name Last-Name, the brutal Victor of District 4. Beautiful, graceful, but deadly. You were known for being undetectable in the daylight, but creeping through the shadows of the arena at night, striking whoever you stalked with expert precision and gruesome method. You'd even taken out three people at once, simply because they couldn't see you in the dark and weren't as swift as you were, so they couldn't grab you.

In interviews, you were stoic. Uncrackable. That itself became your personality to viewers. Unbothered, they thought. Unbreakable. Wrong, you often snickered to yourself. You just wouldn't show the sheep anything they could get off on.

You hated the Capitol. You hated Snow. You hated everyone that supported the Games.

You'd just gotten home to District 4 today, the fanciful life in the Capitol finally coming to an end for you. The sigh of relief that exited you when you finally touched feet onto the beach could've been heard around the world. You inhaled again, deeply, holding the salty air of home into your lungs. Your eyes gazed across the horizon, watching the waves crash.

It was a windy day. Your hair blew slightly into your face. Grabbing it, you tied it up into a messy bun and continued walking, your bare feet on the cold beach.

Finnick, in all of his time watching your interviews and performance in the arena, couldn't figure out exactly what he thought of you.

On Reaping Day, he didn’t recognize your name when it was called. Finnick thought he knew everyone in District 4 -- faces, families, fishermen. But when you stepped onto that stage, something about you struck him. Not fear, not drama. You didn’t cry or shake. You just walked, eyes ahead, spine straight, mouth set in a firm line. That calm silence unsettled him in a way he hadn’t expected.

You reminded him of himself, standing there years ago. Only younger. Quieter. And somehow, already hardened.

He started paying attention during the Capitol broadcasts. You didn’t perform for the cameras. You didn’t flirt with the other tributes or flash a Capitol smile. You just trained, and watched, and listened. Finnick noticed how your eyes moved -- never resting too long on anyone, but never missing a single detail. He recognized the calculation behind your stillness.

You weren’t detached. You were preparing.

Capitol audiences didn’t get it. They called you “stoic,” “unapproachable,” “cold.” But Finnick saw through it. He had worn the same mask. And the fact that you never let it slip -- not even once -- made him sit up straighter every time your face flickered on screen.

You didn’t charm the crowd on interview day. You didn’t cry. You barely smiled. And Finnick couldn’t look away.

While Caesar tried to pull something -- anything -- out of you, you sat with that unreadable expression, voice low and clipped, like you didn’t care if the audience liked you or not. You didn’t need them to. You weren’t looking for sponsors. You were preparing for war.

The Capitol called it a lack of personality. Finnick knew better. That’s not emptiness, he thought. That’s control. And maybe -- just maybe -- it scared them.

He’d planned to watch your Games the way he watched every set --disconnected. He couldn’t afford to feel anything. But when you moved through the arena like you’d been born for it -- slipping between shadows, striking with brutal efficiency -- he leaned closer. You didn’t fight for sport. You didn’t gloat. You just survived, again and again, with that same quiet fire.

And when you killed? You didn’t blink. But he saw it; the tiniest shift in your eyes after each one. Not pride. Not satisfaction. Just pain buried too deep to show.

The night you took out three tributes at once -- swift, silent, unseen -- he actually exhaled in disbelief.

Watching you win reminded Finnick of what victory really was: survival dressed up as glory. He saw it in your eyes -- that numbness, that quiet rage. He knew it well.

You didn't hear him at first. The wind swallowed the soft crunch of his footsteps in the sand, the rustle of driftwood beneath his weight. But then you caught the scent of salt and something softer -- like sugarcane and sea spray -- and your gaze sharpened slightly, turning over your shoulder.

Finnick Odair stood a few paces behind you, hands in his pockets, eyes on you instead of the ocean.

He didn’t speak right away. He just watched, quietly, like he wasn’t sure if you’d bolt or bite.

“You always walk like that,” he finally said, his voice smooth and low, tinged with something like amusement. “Like the ocean owes you something.”

You stared at him. Not cold, but unreadable. It was how you always looked at people now.

“And do you always sneak up on people?” you replied, tone even. No bite, no softness -- just a fact.

Finnick shrugged, offering a small, crooked smile. “Only when I’m curious.”

You turned back toward the water, letting the conversation settle into silence. But he didn’t leave.

He stepped closer -- not close enough to crowd, but just enough that you could feel the heat of him beside you, grounding in a way that surprised you.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured after a moment. “Not to me.”

You didn’t respond.

He glanced sideways at you. “But… I watched. Every second. You didn’t crack once. Not in the arena. Not on camera.”

Your jaw clenched. “And?”

“And I just wanted to say,” he paused, voice quieter now, “I saw what they didn’t.”

That made your eyes flick toward him, guarded but curious.

“I know what it’s like,” he said. “Coming back with blood on your hands and Capitol lies in your teeth. Everyone either wants to worship you or pretend you’re whole.”

You looked away again. The accuracy of what he said startled you. Like he could see you.

"Look, Odair," you sighed, the thick walls built up around you evident. "You can pretend you know anything about me, but--"

“--but I don’t, yeah, yeah,” Finnick cut in, his lips tugging into a crooked smirk. “Believe it or not, I’ve heard that one before.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You watched me on a screen. You don’t know a damn thing.”

He stepped closer, hands in his pockets, wind tousling his hair. “I watched you survive. Watched you outsmart half the Capitol’s little monsters. Watched you break records and a few rib cages.”

You didn’t answer, but your silence wasn’t dismissal. Not entirely.

Finnick tilted his head, studying you. “Let me guess. You hate the attention. Hate the interviews. Hate the fact that they all call you a ‘Victor’ when you feel more like a grave.”

You stiffened. He was getting too close to the truth.

“I didn’t come out here for therapy,” you said flatly.

“Oh, trust me,” he chuckled, “if I were offering therapy, I’d at least have brought alcohol.”

That pulled a small twitch at the corner of your mouth. Damn him.

“Why are you really here, Finnick?” you asked, arms crossed, voice low. “You don’t know me. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I don’t,” he agreed easily. “But I remember what it felt like. Coming back home and realizing the ocean didn’t wash off the blood. That the sand didn’t make you clean.”

You blinked. That was too poetic. Too real. And too annoyingly accurate.

“Besides,” he added with a wink, “I figured if anyone could match my pretty face and fucked up soul combo, it’d be you.”

“Wow,” you muttered, dry as the heat you fought in the arena. “Your ego’s bigger than the arena.”

“It’s well-fed,” he said smugly. “But you -- you’re starving for real conversation. Don’t deny it.”

You rolled your eyes, though your chest felt strangely lighter. He wasn’t giving you pity. He wasn’t afraid of you, either. He was poking the bear on purpose. Teasing the teeth.

“Careful,” you warned, but your tone had lost its sharpness. “I bite.”

Finnick’s grin widened. “So do I. Just ask the Capitol.”

He stepped beside you again, shoulder just close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him in the sea breeze.

“I’m not trying to fix you,” he said after a beat. “Hell, I’m barely holding my own cracks together. But I’m here. If you want that.”

You didn’t respond immediately. Just stared out at the horizon where the sun was starting to dip, orange spilling into blue.

“I’ll think about it,” you muttered.

Finnick smirked. “That’s basically a yes.”

You bumped his arm lightly with your shoulder.

“Don’t push your luck, pretty boy.”

His grin widened. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You like me, you just don't know it yet.”

The conversations on the beach became a small tradition as you softened up. Every few weeks, Finnick would seek you out, knowing exactly where you'd be. You were usually in the same spot, sitting on a blanket with a book. Sometimes the book was absent -- you just stared out at the waves instead.

He was proud of himself. He'd gotten you to tell him feelings, even secrets of your own. He'd gained your trust. He was your outlet, just as he'd wanted.

And the best part, to him at least, was that he'd managed to fall for you.

Finnick was a romantically charged person. He loved love. He loved old love. Slow paced tenderness where the process of falling in love with someone was barely noticeable until it was all consuming. And now, Finnick could barely ignore how much he wanted to tell you.

He knew it would scare you.

He opted not to use words. He used gentle touches, teasing, small flirts and comments. He used being a shoulder to cry on, collecting sea shells for you because you loved them, embarrassing people who made unsavory comments about your status as a Victor.

Finnick fell for you in the most beautiful, soft, slow way. As he got to know you, he found that you weren't some stoic gruesome person, just as he suspected. You were gentle, intelligent, funny. You were gorgeous, inside and out. You loved kids. You loved animals and the ocean. You had two little brothers, who looked up to you. You only had one parent -- your father, whom you adored.

He adored every single thing he knew about you, bad or not.

Today, he found you on the beach, per usual. But something was different. You weren't just sitting, spaced out or reading.

You were down by the water, laughing softly -- laughing -- as a stray dog jumped around your ankles, kicking up wet sand and barking at your playful swats.

You weren’t wearing your usual armor, either. Your hair was down, sunlit and wild in the breeze, and your face was open, warm, like someone who’d finally stepped out from a long, cold shadow.

You didn’t hear him approach, but somehow, you always knew when he was near.

“Should I be jealous?” Finnick asked, voice playful but quieter than usual, more careful.

You didn’t look at him right away. Just let your hand rest on the dog’s head and murmured, “Of a dog?”

“Well, he’s got your full attention and, apparently, your affection,” he said, lowering himself onto the blanket beside you. “That’s a lot more than I can say for myself.”

You smirked slightly but didn’t meet his eyes.

“You bring food,” you murmured. “He likes that.”

“Do you like that?” he asked, voice dipping just enough to make you still for a second.

You shrugged one shoulder, watching as the dog trotted off to chase a seagull.

Finnick didn’t speak again right away. The silence between you had become a language of its own. Familiar. Almost safe.

Then he spoke again, more gently.

“You’re different.”

You raised a brow at that, finally glancing at him. “Different how?”

“Softer,” he said, eyes scanning your face. “Not weak. Just… not hiding everything with your fists.”

You wanted to snap something back. Reflex. Habit. But the words didn’t come.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

You didn’t answer, just looked back at the ocean. The waves were coming in slower now. Calmer.

The silence fell, but not the kind that used to hang between you like a barricade. This one was gentle. Shared. He stood next to you, hands by his sides, looking out at the water the same way you were.

Then -- he felt it.

Your hand, brushing against his. A feather-light touch. Testing. Curious.

He turned his hand slightly, enough so that his pinky grazed yours. You didn’t pull away. In fact, your hand moved a little closer. You still weren’t looking at him, but that made it feel even more real.

“You’re quiet today,” he said softly.

“I don’t need to talk to you,” you replied, then added quickly, “Not in a bad way.”

He smiled. “I know what you meant.”

A gust of wind swept by, blowing strands of hair into your face. Without thinking, Finnick reached out, tucking them behind your ear.

You stiffened slightly -- not in fear, not in rejection. Just surprise. A moment of nerves.

His fingers lingered by your jaw just a moment too long. His eyes searched yours.

You stared back, caught.

“I think about you all the time,” he admitted, his voice barely louder than the waves. “And not just the version people know. You.”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t look away.

He moved in -- slow, slow, slow -- giving you every second to back away.

You didn’t.

His lips met yours in the softest kiss you’d ever felt.

It wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t hungry. It was a confession. A question.

When you kissed him back, it was quiet but certain. Your hand pressed lightly against his chest, as if to keep him close but not too close, not yet.

When the kiss ended, Finnick rested his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling, hearts thudding in soft unison.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, honest in a way you hadn’t been before.

“So am I,” he whispered back. “But I’m here. Okay?”

You nodded, still not letting go.

Neither did he.

And that was enough -- for now.

[asterafroditis]

hi hi! may i please request the housewardens with a reader who is exactly like robin (hsr) or sua (alnst)? if you could make reader have robins little wings too ^_^

𐔌 . ⋮ cosmic celebrity .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Housewardens x Robin/Sua gn! reader

𓏵 2196 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff

I'm in both the hsr and alnst fandom so this was a great delight to write!! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

At first, Riddle doesn’t quite know what to make of you. You’re polite, refined, and carry yourself with an air of grace that even the nobility of his world would envy. Yet, there’s something about you that unsettles him—something he can’t place. It isn’t fear, but rather a quiet awe, as if he’s standing before something larger than life.

Your voice is unlike anything he’s ever heard before. When you sing, it isn’t just a melody—it’s a force, a presence that fills the air and lingers long after the last note fades. Even the roses in Heartslabyul’s garden seem to sway in time with your voice, as if nature itself is listening.

You remind him of a fairytale figure: enchanting, mysterious, and somehow just out of reach. He watches how others react to you—how they’re drawn in, how they lean closer, how even the most unruly of students fall silent in your presence. He tells himself that it’s simply your talent, your charisma, that compels them. But deep down, he wonders—do you ever long for something outside of this attention?

He notices the way you slip away when the crowds get too overwhelming, the way you seek quiet corners, away from prying eyes. It’s in those moments that he sees the real you—unburdened, free from expectations. He never tries to keep you from disappearing when you wish to, but if you ever linger a moment longer beside him, he considers it a victory he will never voice aloud.

Despite your cosmic fame, you never make him feel small. If anything, you listen to him, truly listen, in a way few ever do. And when you sing for him—not for a performance, not for an audience, but simply because he is there—he feels something in his heart shift, something he doesn’t yet have the words for.

And when your wings give a small flutter, as if content to be beside him, he dares to think that maybe, just maybe, you don’t mind lingering near him either.

─────────────────────────

Leona isn’t easily impressed. He’s seen talented people come and go, each believing themselves to be special. But you? You’re different. Not just because of your voice—though he won’t deny it has an effect even on him—but because you exist in a space all your own, untouchable by the world’s expectations.

You remind him of the savanna winds—unpredictable, fleeting, impossible to catch. One moment you’re right beside him, and the next, you’re gone, leaving only the echo of your presence behind. He finds himself watching, waiting, wondering when you’ll slip away again. It annoys him more than he’ll admit.

He doesn’t understand why you’d waste your time with him, lounging in the shade while the rest of the world clamors for your attention. But you do. And when you sing—not on stage, not for a crowd, but just absentmindedly beside him—he feels something deep in his chest, a resonance that lingers long after the sound has faded.

Your little wings shift slightly when you stretch, ruffling just a bit when you let out a sigh of contentment. He watches them, lazily flicking his ear in response. He calls you a show-off, but he knows better. You don’t sing to impress. You sing because it’s simply a part of you, as natural as breathing. And that is what unnerves him most—how effortlessly you weave yourself into the lives of others, how even he isn’t immune to your presence.

He won’t ask you to stay when you vanish, but if you ever return to his side, slipping into the shade like you never left, he won’t say a word about it either.

─────────────────────────

Azul thrives on control, on knowing exactly how to sway people in his favor. Yet, when it comes to you, he finds himself at a loss. You’re an enigma—someone who should, by all logic, be easy to manipulate. After all, you’re a performer, a star, someone who relies on the admiration of others. But the more he observes you, the more he realizes—attention doesn’t hold power over you.

You accept it, yes, but you are not bound by it. You exist above it, outside of it. And that unsettles him.

Your voice—your ability—fascinates him in a way he can’t quite explain. It isn’t just about business, though he tells himself it is. The way your music resonates, how it lingers even in the water, how it affects even the merfolk… it’s unlike anything he’s ever encountered. He wants to understand it, to study it, to figure out what makes it so powerful.

But then you turn that gaze on him—calm, knowing, like you see through every carefully crafted façade—and he wonders if, for once, he’s the one being studied. His eyes dart briefly to your small wings, which shift slightly, responding to something unseen. He wonders if they’re attuned to more than just the music—if they sense lies, deceptions, things he keeps hidden behind his careful smile.

When you disappear, he pretends not to care. But when you return, slipping into the lounge as if you never left, he finds himself relaxing just a fraction. He doesn’t need to own your song—some things, he realizes, are far more valuable when left free.

─────────────────────────

Kalim adores you. From the moment he meets you, he’s utterly captivated—not just by your talent, but by you. You’re like a shooting star, brilliant and fleeting, and he wants nothing more than to keep up with you, to chase that light no matter where it leads.

He doesn’t question your elusiveness, nor does he try to keep you from disappearing. Instead, he cherishes every moment you choose to stay, celebrating your presence as if it’s a festival all on its own.

He asks you to sing, not because he wants a performance, but because he genuinely enjoys your voice. And when you do, he listens—not just to the melody, but to the emotion beneath it, to the way it resonates even in the stillest of nights. Sometimes, he watches how your wings react to your own music, perking up at certain notes, quivering with feeling, as if they too are carried away by the sound.

You surprise him often—not with grand gestures, but with the little things. The way you remember the smallest details, the way you can disappear into a crowd yet always seem to know exactly where to find him. It’s those moments, more than anything, that make him realize just how special you are.

He never asks where you go when you vanish, nor does he try to hold you back. He only hopes that, wherever you wander, you’ll always find your way back to him.

─────────────────────────

Vil understands fame. He understands the weight of being watched, the expectations, the pressure. And so, in you, he sees a kindred spirit—someone who walks the same stage yet does so with a grace that seems almost effortless.

He admires your composure, your ability to captivate with a single note, a single glance. Yet, what intrigues him most is your unpredictability. You are refined, elegant, the picture of poise—until you choose not to be. Until you surprise him with a boldness that catches even him off guard.

Your little wings fascinate him. They move with you as naturally as your breath, fluttering in response to your emotions, betraying what you don’t say aloud. He finds them exquisite—another layer of your beauty, another piece of your ethereal presence. Sometimes, he watches them out of the corner of his eye, noting how they react to praise, to exhaustion, to excitement. They make you all the more mesmerizing, a performer even when you do not intend to be.

You are not a puppet to your audience, nor do you seek validation in their praise. You are simply you, untouched by the world’s expectations. And that, more than anything, is what makes you truly beautiful.

He won’t stop you when you disappear—he, more than anyone, understands the need to step away from the spotlight. But when you return, when you stand beside him once more, he will welcome you with open arms, knowing that true stars are not bound by any stage.

─────────────────────────

Idia isn’t easily drawn to people. He’s more comfortable behind a screen, away from prying eyes and social expectations. Yet, when it comes to you, he finds himself unable to look away.

At first, he assumes you’re just another celebrity, another untouchable figure meant to be admired from afar. But you don’t fit into any neat category. You’re famous—cosmically famous—but you carry yourself like someone who doesn’t care for the spotlight. You let people worship your voice, yet remain untouched by their devotion.

It unsettles him. Because he understands idols, performers, people who thrive on attention. But you? You exist outside of it, separate from it, as if the universe itself bends to your whims. And maybe it does.

The first time he hears your song, it’s through his tablet. Someone must have been playing a recording in the dorm, and the sound carried through the halls like an echo from another world. He nearly dismissed it—until he realized that it wasn’t a recording. It was you.

The sound seeped into every shadow, resonated with every circuit and wire. Even Ortho noticed, his sensors picking up strange energy fluctuations. Your voice wasn’t just heard—it was felt, like an unseen force brushing against the very core of his being.

He doesn’t know how to approach you, not at first. You’re unpredictable. Not in the chaotic, overwhelming way that extroverts tend to be, but in the quiet, calculated way that unnerves him. You’re graceful, elusive—but then you do something bold, something completely unexpected, and he has no idea how to react.

Like the time you appeared in front of him, eyes sharp and knowing, before casually inviting him to a game you knew he liked. No expectations, no pressure—just an invitation. And just like that, he was drawn in before he even realized it. Even now, he wonders if you noticed the way his gaze lingered, not just on your expression, but on the way your wings fluttered ever so slightly, as if encouraging him to follow.

He won’t try to keep you from disappearing. But if you ever return, sitting beside him in the dim glow of his monitors, your wings shifting with each quiet movement, he won’t pretend he’s not watching. Because for the first time in a long time, he realizes that maybe, just maybe, some people are worth looking up from the screen for.

─────────────────────────

Malleus has lived for centuries. He has seen the rise and fall of civilizations, watched as stars burned bright before fading into nothingness. And yet, in you, he finds something truly remarkable.

You are not of his world. That much, he knows. There is something about you—something otherworldly—that sets you apart. Not just in the way you carry yourself, but in the way the very air shifts when you speak, when you sing.

Your voice is unlike any magic he has ever encountered. It resonates with everything around you, weaving into the fabric of reality itself. Even the gargoyles seem to react, as if they, too, can hear the echoes of something far greater than what mortal ears can comprehend.

And then, there are your wings.

They are small, yet they move with a grace that intrigues him. They twitch when you’re amused, flutter when you laugh, still completely when you are deep in thought. He has never seen wings like yours before. They are not like a fae’s, nor are they like those of any creature he has encountered.

He longs to ask about them, to reach out and trace the delicate feathers with his fingertips. But he does not.

You are elegant, refined, a performer in every sense of the word. But then, just when he believes he understands you, you do something unexpected. Something bold. Something uncharacteristically human. And it fascinates him to no end.

You are like a dream, fleeting and untouchable, appearing and disappearing without warning. But he never feels as if you are truly gone. No, your presence lingers—in the wind that carries your song, in the silence that follows.

He does not ask where you go when you vanish, nor does he demand that you stay. He simply watches, waiting, wondering if you will return. And when you do—when your voice fills the air once more, like the whisper of forgotten legends—he listens, entranced, knowing that some songs are meant to be heard only for a moment, yet remembered for a lifetime.

[twihs-blog]

Guilt and Shame:

A few months ago I wrote the below post on my journey of sobriety. Making my sobriety public was never what I had envisioned when I went crawling into AA defeated. I’ve been thinking a lot recently on my journey as a human being on this planet. It’s a beautiful thing. I’ve been thinking a lot on guilt and shame surrounding my slip up and I suppose I wanted to share with you more on that.

I have been invited to a recovery house in America to help them raise awareness and money for their charity. I of course jumped at the chance, after all, giving back is what we are lead to do. I would be lying though if I said I wasn’t terrified. 

The fear of admitting fault of feeling like I let down those around me. Writing this is terrifying but I’m trying to push myself out of my comfort zone and become more attune with me and what my higher power want’s me to do.

I suppose ultimately I want to share this with you as I’ve already opened the door to this part of my life and it seems vital that I continue to do so.

Fear is at the root cause of so many issues regarding addiction in my experience. 

I still have anxiety, yesterday I took the tube to see some friends and had to leave half way through my journey due to the overwhelming feeling that I may at any second pass out. Even at dinner this feeling was hard to shake. It’s hard to describe. I walk out on to a stage to talk with you all or play music or act and I feel little of this, however in daily life it can creep in so quickly. 

Whilst my consumption of marajuana wasn’t what I would call habitual I recognize that it was a poor attempt at controlling my own feelings, anxiety’s and stressors. Which is backwards because it wasn’t exactly helping with those things either as they still were there regardless.

Living the life I am fortunate enough to live now I recognize those things and how I respond to them now is with choice. 

I suppose writing this is an exercise in digging in, in recognizing the feelings of guilt and shame, in owning up to myself and to my world. 

The last thing I ever want to be doing is walking out in to my world with a lie. 

It’s hard to know how to end this post. I suppose a thank you would be appropriate, I have a deep love for the world and for people in it. I have a love for my world and my higher power and I was very much moved to write this.

With love.

Jamie

[plutosunshine]

Built-in Resistance: Life with Saturn Square Your Personal Planets

Saturn square Sun

Saturn is like that strict teacher who never smiles, always grades harshly, and thinks every lesson should come with a side of struggle. The Sun is you — your core, your identity, your ego, your light. When Saturn squares the Sun, it’s kind of like you’re trying to dance freely on stage while someone in the audience keeps shouting, “You call that dancing?!”

People with this aspect often grow up feeling like they have to earn their right to exist — like they’re only valuable if they’re responsible, useful, or constantly improving. There’s often some early-life dynamic where a parent or authority figure was extra hard on them. Encouragement might’ve been replaced with criticism or emotional coldness, which leads to this lifelong inner voice that goes, “You’re not enough. Try harder.”

Yeah. Ouch.

Saturn square Sun doesn’t hand out trophies for just showing up. But weirdly, that’s kind of its gift. You do become incredibly resilient. You do learn discipline. You do build self-respect — but the long, slow, Saturn-approved way. Not the “overnight success” route. You might feel like life delays your wins or makes you work harder than others for the same results, but when you finally do succeed, it’s solid. Nobody can take it from you because you’ve earned every inch of it.

It’s also the “late bloomer” aspect. Your glow-up isn’t rushed. You’re not peaking in high school or riding beginner’s luck. You’re becoming the kind of person who ages like fine wine — and yes, Saturn would absolutely approve of that metaphor. 🍷

The hard part? Self-doubt. Feeling blocked. Feeling like your own worst enemy. Like no matter what you do, there’s a wall. That’s Saturn. But Saturn is the planet of mastery, and squares are pushy — they push you to grow. So yeah, you might feel restricted early in life, but that pressure makes you strong, wise, and deeply self-aware. Eventually, people look at you and think, “Damn, how are they so calm and composed?” Meanwhile, you're like, “Because I’ve been through it.”

Bottom line: it’s tough, but it makes you tougher. Saturn square Sun doesn’t give you a free ride — it gives you the long road, with better scenery and stronger legs.

Saturn square Moon

Ahhh, Saturn square Moon — the emotional equivalent of trying to hug a cactus that keeps reminding you of your responsibilities. 🥲

So, picture this: your Moon is your emotions, your instinctive needs, how you seek comfort and nurture. It’s the soft, gooey center of your emotional world. Now enter Saturn, the planet of structure, responsibility, restriction, and sometimes the cosmic buzzkill at your emotional birthday party.

When these two square off, it often shows up as an inner tug-of-war between what you feel and what you should do. You might have grown up in an environment where expressing emotions wasn’t safe, welcomed, or even allowed. Maybe emotions were treated like weakness, or you had to "grow up fast" — emotionally or literally. So your inner child kind of got a memo that said, “Stuff those feelings down and get to work.”

The result? You may come off as super composed on the outside — calm, responsible, maybe even stoic. But inside, there can be deep emotional insecurity, a feeling that your needs are “too much,” or that if you do express vulnerability, people will reject or judge you. So, often, you don’t. Or you wait until it explodes, and then you’re like, “Wow, didn’t see that one coming”... even though you totally did.

One of the roughest parts? This aspect can create what I call emotional imposter syndrome — feeling like no matter how much you try to show up emotionally, it’s never enough… or maybe it’s too much, and either way, you just can't win.

And relationships? Whew. They can feel like walking a tightrope. You want connection (Moon), but you also fear vulnerability (Saturn). So sometimes you build walls instead of bridges. Or you attract emotionally distant partners, because that dynamic feels “normal.” But that’s just Saturn playing puppeteer until you call it out.

Now for the good news: Saturn square Moon people become some of the most emotionally mature, loyal, and grounded souls out there. You might not wear your heart on your sleeve, but when you love, it’s real, and it’s deep. With time, and yes — lots of self-work — you learn to mother yourself. You stop waiting for external permission to feel things. You start trusting that your needs matter, even if they weren’t validated growing up.

This is a slow-burn healing process. But if anyone can turn emotional lead into gold? It’s someone with this aspect. You’ve got that inner alchemist energy.

Saturn square Mercury

Oooh, Saturn square Mercury — now we’re talking about the mental pressure cooker of the zodiac. 🧠⏳

Mercury is all about communication, thought, curiosity, wit — it's your mental vibe, your inner narrator. Saturn? He’s the cosmic taskmaster with a clipboard and zero patience for fluff. So when they square off, it can feel like every word or thought has to go through airport-level security before it’s allowed out.

What’s it like to have this aspect? Well… imagine you’re trying to give a speech and there's a grumpy old professor in your head muttering, “That’s not smart enough. Say it better. Actually… maybe don’t say anything at all.”

This aspect can make you hyper self-critical when it comes to expressing yourself. People with this placement often second-guess what they say, how they say it, or even if they should say it at all. Sometimes there’s a fear of being misunderstood, or sounding “dumb,” or getting shut down — maybe because at some point in life, that actually happened. Cue the internalized “don’t speak unless it’s perfect” vibe.

And then there’s the tendency toward mental overwork. Like, your brain is always on, but it’s not chilling in a hammock — it’s climbing a mental mountain with a Saturn-branded backpack full of “What if I mess this up?” rocks.

This can make learning feel slow or frustrating early in life — but not because you're not intelligent (you are, in a deeply structured, analytical way). It’s just that Saturn doesn’t hand out lightbulb moments for free. He wants you to earn your wisdom. So while other people might grasp things quickly, you build your knowledge brick by brick — and by the end, your mental castle is solid AF.

People with this aspect tend to have a dry, sharp, understated sense of humor — think “sarcastic sage who’s seen some things.” They’re also fantastic editors, researchers, and strategists because their brains are naturally built for refinement. You might not speak first, but when you do? It’s thoughtful and real.

The flip side? Yeah, sometimes you can come across as blunt, overly serious, or even pessimistic. That’s Saturn’s shade. But as you grow, you learn to wield that seriousness like a sword — cutting through BS and fluff, and communicating with depth and purpose.

Eventually, Saturn stops whispering “You’re not smart enough,” and starts saying, “You’ve earned your voice.” That’s when things get powerful.

Saturn square Venus

Ahhh, Saturn square Venus — the classic “Why does love feel like a job interview I keep failing?” aspect. 💔📄

Let’s get real for a sec: Venus is your charm, your ability to connect, to love, to enjoy the sweet stuff — beauty, art, pleasure, relationships. It’s where we want things to feel easy. Then Saturn walks in like, “Easy? Not on my watch.”

When Saturn squares Venus, you end up with this inner tension between desire and deserving. You want love, connection, affection… but there’s this built-in brake system that says, “Not so fast.” Maybe you grew up learning that love had to be earned — with achievement, with behavior, with being better. So even as an adult, there’s often this invisible wall where intimacy should be.

And yes, that wall can wear different disguises:

Picking emotionally unavailable partners

Feeling like you're never "enough"

Struggling to receive love even when it's right there

Or being super hard on yourself about how you look or what you “bring to the table”

It’s like having a little Saturn on your shoulder whispering, “Sure, they say they like you, but do they really? Better not let your guard down just in case.”

Sound familiar? 😬

This aspect doesn’t mean you’re doomed in love, not even close. But it does mean that you may carry emotional scar tissue — patterns built on rejection, self-doubt, or fear of not measuring up. It often points to early life experiences where love felt conditional or inconsistent. So now, adult-you sometimes expects rejection even before it happens.

And the irony? People with Saturn-Venus squares are often incredibly loyal, loving, and dependable — once they feel safe. But that’s the keyword: safe. Trust takes time. Vulnerability takes effort. And affection? Sometimes it feels like a risk, not a reflex.

Money and self-worth are also wrapped up in this one. You might feel you have to hustle for security, or that pleasure must be earned, not simply enjoyed. Saturn isn’t exactly the “treat yourself” type.

But here’s the glow-up: Saturn-Venus folks age so well, emotionally and even physically. Why? Because with time, you learn how to build real love — love with boundaries, depth, commitment, and staying power. You stop chasing fairytales and start creating something more meaningful. Love that’s earned, but not forced. Love that’s built to last.

And when that wall comes down? What’s behind it is solid gold.

Saturn square Mars

Ah yes — Saturn square Mars, also known as: "Why does it feel like I’m driving with the gas and brake pedals pressed at the same time??" 🚗💥

Mars is your raw drive — action, passion, aggression, motivation. It’s how you chase what you want and defend what’s yours. Saturn, as always, is the planet of limits, rules, structure, and the dreaded delay. So when these two lock horns in a square, it can feel like you're constantly hitting resistance every time you try to move forward.

The vibe? Frustrated ambition. You’ve got fire (Mars), but Saturn throws cold water on it — not to kill it, but to teach you how to control it. But in the moment? It’s so annoying.

You might have felt early on that you had to fight for everything — attention, respect, even basic freedom. Maybe your willpower got shut down or punished growing up. So instead of being encouraged to go after what you want, you learned to hesitate, to second-guess, or to push so hard that you burned out. It’s like your inner rebel has a probation officer watching their every move.

People with this aspect often feel like they’re in a constant internal tug-of-war: “I want to do this… but what if I fail? What if I’m not good enough? What if I lose control?”

Here’s the thing though: this aspect creates grit. Pure, slow-baked, battle-tested determination. Saturn squares don’t hand you gifts — they hand you a toolset and make you build it yourself. With Saturn-Mars, you might feel like you’re always having to prove yourself — but guess what? You do. Over and over. And you get stronger each time.

This aspect can make you:

Hyper-disciplined (eventually — after you work through the rebellion or avoidance)

Physically enduring (if you learn to channel the tension into something like sports, martial arts, or intense physical work)

Strategically aggressive — you don’t waste energy on impulsive stuff. You move with precision.

But yeah, in the meantime? There’s anger. Sometimes buried deep, sometimes leaking out as passive-aggressiveness, sometimes erupting because you've been holding it all in. That’s Saturn saying, “Control it — don’t suppress it.” Mars needs movement. Saturn says “only if it’s worth it.”

The emotional lesson? Learning to be your own coach, not your own prison guard. You’ve got big energy — Mars knows what it wants. Saturn says, “Cool. Let’s make sure you do it right, even if it takes a while.” It’s a long game aspect, and people with this end up achieving some pretty epic things — but they rarely take shortcuts. Your growth comes through friction.

[rpclefairy]

𝐁𝐆𝟑 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

a selection of lines from the various companions' banter quotes (not cut scene dialogues!) from baldur's gate 3. these are generally spoiler free and non context specific so they can apply to different settings and dynamics! feel free to change names and the like to customize the prompts.

“Death can't have me. Not yet…”

“Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.”

“Realmspace is vast. Countless worlds to be mapped, kingdoms to be conquered.”

“I have missed this. The adventure. The danger. The kicking of butts!

“Let me guess - you need something.”

“Such attention.. I never realised I was so popular.”

“Let's cook with fire, baby.”

“Do you intend to vocalise every thought?. Or just the most obvious ones?”

“Wherever we go, ye gods let there be something green.”

“Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.”

“Watch your elders and learn.”

“Perhaps try attacking the enemy?”

“So much we don't know, lingering in the furthest reaches of existence.”

“All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.”

“The shadows are my friend.”

“Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.”

“Feet planted firmly on Faerûn, please.”

“Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities.”

“Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you?”

“I am ready, whatever may come.”

“My faith protects me.”

“Need a throat slitting?”

“Death greets us all - but not today.”

“You need my expertise?”

“Can you feel death's cold grip?”

“So many stars, so many mysteries yet to be discovered.”

“Death comes quietly.”

“And I thought we were going to be friends.”

“Locked tight, but there must be some way to open it.”

“No, you can't die. Get up, damn you!

“You had my attention, now you have my fury.”

“From silence to suffering.”

“So many worlds out there. You'd need a thousand lifetimes to see them all - more.”

“I hope this is important. For your sake.”

“Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.”

“I ought to just burn this whole thing down.”

“We have slightly more pressing matters to attend to.”

“You have still have time to surrender.”

“Every kicked buttock, another step on the path.”

“Weave save me. I can't take much more…

“You are right to fear me.”

“Let me look around. Might be something that'll help me crack this thing.”

“Incredible, to think how many worlds exist beyond this tiny speck within a speck I call home.”

“I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.”

“I can fawn over my face later.”

“Ready for another round?”

“Keep your blade close.”

“I can't unlock it from here, but there must be a switch or a button somewhere…”

“No, that's not moving. There must be a way to open it somewhere.”

“Battle favours the fearless.”

“Sleep with one eye open, evil. Maybe both.”

“Gotta be something around here to unlock this thing.”

“Why do beautiful people taste better?. It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities.”

“Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too.”

“Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails.”

“Still standing, no matter what you heard.”

“Enough waiting. I crave blood.”

“Hang on - I won't allow this. You aren't dead, go it?”

“GODS, it's HOT in here!”

“No rest for the wicked, I see.”

“Better to hide than fight, sometimes.”

“Would that I could hide from you, too.”

“Are you feeling lonely, perhaps?”

“There is no right or wrong, only truth.”

“Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe.”

“What good all this ethereal eladrin blood if I can still get pimples?”

“I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.”

“I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness.”

“Let's have some fun.”

“War is an old woman's game.”

“No rest, be you wicked or wise.”

“I'm getting too old for this nonsense.”

“I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want.”

“You have my attention - now do something with it.”

“You are insistent, are you not?”

“Do what must be done.”

“Your suffering will be spectacular.”

“Lest I sit down for a rest and not rise again.”

“Better to look evil in the eye. Even if it be very small.”

“I'm not built to crouch.”

“I think I could go another round.”

“Always the same old song.”

“Is perfection too much to ask?”

“Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner.”

“So many places to be.. and I chose Baldur's Gate.”

“I'm not opening that. Not from here, at any rate.”

“What is the point, if not victory?”

“Won't last much longer like this.”

“Let's hope the locals are friendly.”

“Let us show them how it's done.”

“Weapons high. Standards higher.”

“Must everyone be so exhausting?”

“What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb…”

“Which way to the nearest library?”

“Now this is my happy place.”

“Who shall I silence?”

“Stop, or die.”

“Wear your scars proudly.”

[uschi-the-listener]

If you care, share

It sounds wild. Maybe even crazy. But every step is already in motion. I’d be happy to be wrong. But if this is correct… you’ll be ready.

On April 20, 2025, the United States may initiate its final steps into authoritarian rule.

That’s the day Donald Trump’s advisory committee is expected to release its findings on whether he should invoke the Insurrection Act — a move that would allow him to deploy the military domestically and allow Trump to impose martial law. (San Francisco Chronicle). Given Hegseth is the main “advisor”, the conclusion is foregone.

And as his two months in office has already shown, he won’t stop at just a legal opinion.

Expect an executive order that same day or the next, officially declaring the Insurrection Act, restricting freedoms in the name of restoring control of the border and in blue-state cities, and setting the larger plan in motion.

Of course, this won’t be framed as an attack on democracy. It will be packaged as a necessary response to crisis — as authoritarian takeovers always are.

But once it happens, there’s no going back.

This will be the point of no return.

This Is How Democracy Ends: Here’s their Playbook

It won’t all happen in one night.

Instead, the process will unfold in stages, each step making resistance harder.

Free elections, a free press, and the right to protest will disappear one piece at a time, until there’s nothing left to save.

My entire goal here is to make people aware, so you can recognize it, and maybe help stop it. It’s all I, personally, can do.

Here’s how it will happen, step by step, after Trump invokes the Insurrection Act with an Executive Order:

1. “Resist!” Demonstrations Grow — Just As Planned

Left-leaning and even more centrist people will be alarmed. Peaceful protests will be organized nationwide, as they already have been being organized now, with growing numbers of people joining protests each week.

The calls to “Resist!” will grow louder, and large-scale demonstrations will begin forming in major cities.

This is exactly what Trump wants. He didn’t invoke the Insurrection Act sooner because he needed his opposition to gather first — so he could use them as a tool for his next step.

He also waited 90 days, instead of invoking it on Day 1 as Project 2025 recommended, so he would have his people in place, and remove those who would oppose them in the government, military, courts, and civil positions.

His cabal is waiting for a strong reaction — they want massive unrest. They need a justification to kick off the next steps in their plan.

2. The False Flag Crisis: Turning Protest into “Terror”

The protests will turn violent quickly. Maybe in a day, maybe during the next big protest the following weekend.

They will turn violent not because of the protesters, but because they will have been infiltrated by agents provocateurs, from militia groups like The Proud Boys, whose goal is to escalate as quickly as possible and give Trump and his cabal an excuse to trigger the next stage.

Expect “terrorist” bombings, targeted assassinations, or high-profile acts of violence, either staged or exploited, to justify the crackdown.

There may even be an extremely high profile assassination of a leading right-wing leader that changes everything in a moment… and the “woke radicals” will be blamed, and the country will rally around more extreme measures to bring back order and control.

The media will be flooded with images of chaos, pushing the public into a state of fear. Calls for “order” will follow.

3. Trump Declares Expanded Martial Law — And Calls for Militia to assist the police and Military

Trump has already invoked the Insurrection Act — so now he now declares even more extensive and repressive martial law, and orders troops into major US cities where most oppose him, branding protesters and opponents as “seditionists,” “traitors,” and the “woke mob”.

He will call on “good Americans” to grab their guns, like the patriots of 1776, and join the militias forming to “restore order” and “take back control” from the leftist threat. Using militias also gets him around resistance from military leaders who might oppose his orders.

The militias already exist — the Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, Three Percenters, and others — and they are not some distant fringe. They were at January 6. The most extreme and radicalized are all released from prison now. They are ready to roll, and to answer Trump’s call, which they were waiting for four years ago.

The miliita members are your neighbors. The difference between them and you? These neighbors own and have been training with AR-15s. You and your friends? Not so much.

This will be framed as “helping the police” and “keeping order.” Law enforcement will quietly welcome them — or, in some cases, will deputize them, with Trump’s support.

4. Mass Arrests of Opposition Leaders

Journalists, Democratic officials, and activists will be arrested under charges of sedition, terrorism, or “inciting violence.”

Expect Mark Milley, Liz Cheyney, and Adam Kinzinger to be arrested quickly and with great press coverage. How long the show trials take is probably a good measure of how much control Trump has established over the courts.

Key Democratic governors and attorneys general will be removed first, ensuring no state-level resistance.

Law enforcement and military ranks will be purged, with loyalty tests ensuring only Trump-aligned officers remain.

5. Military & National Guard Take Over Major Cities

Expect deployments in Washington, D.C., New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, and other blue-state strongholds.

Curfews and lockdowns will be imposed, justified as measures to “restore peace.”

Checkpoints and military policing will become the new normal. Expect them in particular along major highways going to Canada or Mexico, and in red states — to identify and detain seditionists, traitors, and people of questionable loyalty.

Trump’s building of detainment centers in Guantanamo, and expansion of the 106 other ICE detention centers, was not actually intended for illegal migrants. And just a few days ago, Blackwater founder and Billionaire Erik Prince offered to help Trump “privatize deportation camps” as has been being done with prisons per Trump’s Day 1 Executive Order. So now Trump has an extrajudicial place to store the disloyal and those who resist, in for-profit camps guarded by militias and loyal military. Until he decides what to do with them.

6. Press Censorship & Total Media Control

Independent news outlets will face shutdowns or takeovers. Those that resist will see their journalists arrested or harassed.

Mainstream media will be forced into compliance. Blackmail, corporate pressure, and legal threats will ensure they toe the line.

Social media platforms like X (Twitter) will amplify the official narrative, drowning out opposition.

Other social media and lines of communication will be turned off. The Internet will be monitored, people identified from this monitoring for arrest, using Palantir technology. Peter Thiel, who I’ve written about before, is co-founder of Palantir. We will fully enter thesurveillance state.

7. Borders Close & Dissidents Are Trapped Inside

Passports will be revoked for critics and opponents. If you’re on a list, you’re not leaving.

No-fly lists will expand to include activists and journalists.

ICE and DHS will be weaponized — not just against immigrants, but against political enemies.

8. Elections Are “Postponed” Indefinitely

The 2026 midterms will be suspended under the excuse of national security concerns.

Red-state legislatures will eliminate Democratic-leaning districts, ensuring permanent Republican control.

By 2028, Trump (or his handpicked successor) will run unopposed. Elections will be a formality, probalby still held. But rigged.

Project 2025 and the Insurrection Act: This Was Always the Plan

This isn’t speculation.

The Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 lays out a detailed strategy for permanent right-wing control.

It openly advocates using the Insurrection Act to crush opposition and dismantle the administrative state.

Trump isn’t improvising — he’s following a script.

We Can’t Wait — The Time to Act Is Now

We can’t sit back and wait for Trump to fire the starting gun — because once he does, it will already be too late.

We need to prepare now.

We need to plan now.

We need to dismantle his plans before they begin.

We have one month.

That’s it.

The Only Way to Stop this Coup is by Exposing It

The only way I can think of to stop this conspiracy, which is in final planning stages, is through exposure.

If people see the playbook in advance, they will be less likely be manipulated when it happens.

They might question the narrative. “Wait. This is what they said would happen. I thought it was crazy. But maybe…”

We need to spread this narrative far and wide so that when the moment comes, no one can claim ignorance.

Maybe we will be proven wrong.

Maybe we will look silly.

Or maybe… we will have derailed the plan, by telling people what to look for, to recognize the playbook steps as (if) they happen.

Here’s what we must do before April 20:

Empower the press, law enforcement, military, and elected officials to recognize the game that’s being played. They need to understand what’s happening before they are pressured to go along with it.

Share this post, or write your own. Do your own research. Don’t take my word for it. Talk with your friends and family about this crazy conspiracy theory that can’t rally happen… can it? So if and when the steps actually happen, people recognize it for what it is.

Prepare the public so they don’t take the bait. Trump and his cabal want protests to explode into chaos. They want violence in the streets to justify their crackdown. We must be ready to outmaneuver them — to refuse to be used as pawns in their game.

Stand up to the militias — and stop friends and family from joining them. The Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, and other armed groups will be mobilized as Trump’s shock troops. They will be framed as “restoring order” and “helping the police.” We need to be ready to counter this, to make sure our neighbors, friends, and family don’t get sucked in.

Inoculate our fellow citizens against the propaganda. Most Americans are good people — but good people can be misled. They can be scared into compliance. Our job is to make sure they see what’s happening before it’s too late.

The only way to stop this plot is to expose it, reject it, and make it unmistakably clear to every American what is happening. We must stop these malign forces from enacting their will on our country, the world, and each of us and our families.

What if we Don’t Stop It?

If it is not stopped, and Trump enacts the Insurrection Act, at that point we probably only have 48 to 72 hours to try to stop everything from happening after the Executive Order.

Once martial law is imposed, there will be a tiny window — no more than three days — before resistance becomes nearly impossible.

Stopping it before it happens is the best option.

But what if we don’t?

In my next post, I’ll outline peaceful, strategic ways to resist — while we still can. And what our reduced options are if it still happens.

If we don’t act before April 20, then by April 23, it will already be too late.

[huffelpuff210]

Ours Soft Dark Stucky x Omega Reader

Soft Dark Alpha Stucky x Omega Reader

Warning: Stalking, kidnapping, drugging, confinement, dark themes, Non Con, man handling, threats, mentions of past abuse, 

Summary: Day by Day Both Bucky and Steve feel like something is missing in their lives that is until they meet you. 

You work as a RN at the nearby hospital, you were just leaving an agonizing fourteen hour shift, dead tired, 

You were walking past a store, where there were TV’s you could watch from outside of the window,

The news was on, 

“This is Becky reporting from Stark tower where in a few minutes Alpha Tony Stark is going to make his big announcement.” The news lady says, 

You stand there with your arms crossed, a lot of people on the street were crowding around as well, 

The Alpha’s in Stark tower are a big deal to everyone so when they make an announcement it’s normally a big uproar 

Tony walks out to the stage, 

“Good afternoon everyone, as everyone may have been aware, the decrease in Omega’s in the past decade have declined drastically.” He says 

It was no secret that Omega’s appear less and less each year, in fact you read in the paper that there is 1 out of 5% that anyone would come across one, You were in fact one, but you take suppressants and wear a special perfume to mask the smell, 

“So as of today, I have signed a bill passing that if you are an Omega you must register, due to the decrease in our species this law is in effect as of today.” Tony says 

You eyes widen, 

“We also have a stations in each clinic to ensure you can find a place to register.” He says 

This made your blood boil, You didn’t like Alpha’s to begin with, Your father and brother’s made sure of that, always talking down to you like you were nothing compared to them, abusing you any chance they got, telling you, that you were nothing but a tool a mutt that your only purpose in life was to breed, 

And here is another example of how much you hate and yet fear alpha’s they think they can control Omega’s, 

“If any Omega’s fail to comply we will have no choice but to place you in a special program.” Tony says 

“That will be all thank you.” He says walking off stage, 

You shake your head and make your way to your apartment, but you couldn’t help this feeling that someone was watching you, You stop in your tracks, to look around listening, smelling, but there were too many scents, you brush it off as fatigue and paranoia. 

You finally enter your apartment, it wasn’t much given the salary to make, barely scraping by, but it was the only way, the only way to avoid detection not just from Alpha’s but your family that has been on the hunt for you since you ran away when you were sixteen, you are now twenty one, but they still continue to hunt you like an animal, 

All because you are an Omega, 

After taking your suppressant and showering, you are laying in bed when a smell catches your attention, It smelled like pine, and cinnamon, you sit up quickly, it wasn’t your father or brother’s but you don’t notice the smell which causes you to panic, 

You peek through the curtains not seeing a single person, you make sure everything is locked, 

You peek out the peep hole at your door, no one, 

You feel your heart rate slow down hoping you were just imagining it, 

Bucky just couldn’t believe his luck, he was on his way to the tower, when a smell caught his attention, sure it was very faint but his sense of smell is stronger than most Alpha’s it smelled like vanilla with a hint of cedar

“Omega...” He whispers

He finds a small petite woman, with long dark hair and green eyes, she was beautiful, but by the smell she’s definitely on something she shouldn’t be on, 

He opens his phone to call Steve as he follows her from a distance, 

“Steve, Your not going to believe what I found.” He says with a smirk on his lips, 

You didn’t go to work for a few days, you were getting paranoid, the smell kept getting stronger as if someone was in your apartment or on the fire escape at the window, 

But your boss called you today, telling you if you didn’t come in today you were fired, 

So you cautiously leave your apartment, just as you were locking the door an arm wrapped around your neck, with a hand covering your mouth, 

You elbow the attacker causing him to grunt, but he didn’t loosen his grip, 

“Shhh, sweetheart, we’re here now.” You hear a man’s voice whisper in your ear, 

suddenly there was a jab of a needle in your upper arm, you watch as the liquid is injected in your arm, 

“Everything will be alright.” Another voice says 

you feel your limbs give way, and your vision blur slowly slipping into darkness, 

Bucky catches you as you fall, picking you up bridal style, your head against his chest, 

Steve moves your dark hair out of your face, 

“She’s beautiful.” Steve says 

“Told you.” Bucky says 

“She’s light though.” Bucky says again, 

“It’s alright she has us now.” Steve says placing his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, 

Bucky nods, as they both smile down at you

[walpu]

hey, hey, I don't know how many times I've read your post "pre-relationship" especially aventurine part (omg i love how you write abt him 😭). I wonder how it will be once they are in a relationship and the kissing part please :3 thank u and have a nice day!

THANK YOUUUUU

Hope you'll enjoy this post too💛💛💛

being in a relationship with Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort (do I even write something other that hurt/comfort for him lmao), no beta

can be seen as a part 2 of this post but it can stan on it's own as well

Aventurine

It would take quite some time for Aventurine to move from the pre-relationship stage with you. Will dance around the subject, throwing hints and flirty remarks but as for making an actual move? Oof.

Would cling to your side and shamelessly say something like "aww, can't get enough of me? people may think we're dating <З unless that's what you want them to think haha"

Pathetic. /affectionally.

But seriously, he really wants to be sure that you like him before making a move. That you like him, not his money, not the idea of him. At least that's what he tells himself. And while this is part of the reason, the actual thing is that he's simply... confused. He's already more vulnerable around you than he ever was around anyone else. And dating means being even more vulnerable.

While he yearns for this genuine connection he's also a scared of it. Tim Kreider wrote the line "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known" about him actually.

It would take some time for him to get used to being in relationship. In the previous post I've mentioned that he, most likely, had some short flings in the past. I seriously doubt that he ever had any serious relationship before you though. It's so new to him. At first it would seem like nothing has changed between the two of you at all. Surprisingly, it looks like he even became a bit more distant.

Aventurine doesn't want to attract any unwanted attention to your relationship since it will only endanger you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm himself. Plus he is scared shitless.

He can't help but feel that he looses everything he holds dear. After all, it's been like that for all of his life. And he simply can't loose you.

Mini spoiler for his leaked character story, but there is a moment there when he looks at the aventurine stone Diamond gave him and he realizes that despite the fact that he worked so hard for it, now that he has it, it holds no real value since it doesn't fill the emptiness inside of him. Logically, he knows that this won't happen with you. He loves you too much. But there's this subconscious fear inside of him that he's just so messed up inside that he simply would not be able to love you like you deserve.

Be patient with him, this mans doesn't know what he's doing. Don't give up on him and he'll crawl to your side, holding onto you for dear life.

Once he will calm down a bit, he'll make it up for all those times when you were the one reaching out to him. Texts you, calls you, arranges spontaneous dates.

In the beginning of relationship would spoil you with expensive gifts. He knows what it's like to have nothing so he doesn't want you to ever feel this way. And the best way to prevent it? To make sure that you will have anything and everything. Maybe it's a subconscious way to bribe you. Maybe. Not like he realizes it himself.

Once he'll feel more stable and more confident, his gift giving tendencies will get less overwhelming. He still like giving you gifts but now he picks and chooses. His sugar darling deserves only the best, after all.

Acts all clingy, playful and unserious but actually listens to your every word and is ready to fulfil your every need.

Is actually very caring. Shows his care by pestering you and easing you tho.

If you feel down, will sit stay by your side. May randomly start tickling you, if you're ticklish. If not, will find another way to touch you in a playful and somewhat annoying way. After you cheer up a bit, Aven will put his chin on your shoulder and hugs your waist, softly asking what happen and why is his dearest darling seems sad.

As for kisses. Aven will loooove covering your face with butterfly kisses. And not only your face. Will randomly grab your hand and kiss your knuckles and fingertips. If you've made a mistake of exposing your shoulder then be ready for it to be kissed endlessly.

Adores kissing those parts of your body that are usually covered with clothes. It feels fore intimate for him.

And if you have freckles or/and beauty marks. Oh well. Will trace them with his fingertips, connecting them with some invisible lines and sometimes gasp playfully, saying that he found his constellation. Just a silly little guy being a silly little guy.

So touch-starved it's unreal.

Has very mixed feeling about his tattoo being kissed. Would feel... weirs if you would kiss it during your casual cuddling session. He exposes it for the world to see, yes. But still, when it attracts attention of someone who knows the meaning behind it... Makes him a bit tense, it catches him off-guard. However, if you kiss it after a lovemaking session or when he shares some painful memories with you, he will feel reassured.

Will slowly start crawling out of his shell when he's with you. Before he only shared some brief memories of his past with you, now he'll start slowly opening up about other, much more painful stuff.

It still happens randomly and out of the blue. He remembers something, he tenses up. But now, instead of repressing this feelings, he shares them with you.

Don't push him too talk, he'll slowly open up on his own.

Loves waking up next to you. Especially if you're still asleep. Seeing the sun shining on your face fills him with love and tenderness. Only with you by his side he feels truly safe.

[artsninspo]

Penname: Delta Wise -IV- [Sinners]

⇠ previous part

「 ✦ mbj's charcter archive✦ 」

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

summary: This chapter picks up where the last left off, there are a few easter-eggs for the next few chapters, some tea is spilled and our main characters try to find their footing as they try figure out how to proceed.

word-count: 4.4K

FOUR

Knotty

Sleeping among strange energies is something I’ve never been able to do and yet it’s something I’ve managed in the most tense of circumstances. Facing your fears can do that to you I guess, draining your batteries down to the bone and leaving no room for anything else. I wake up to Eli nudging me. His brown eyes are serious as is the set of his jaw. It takes a moment for the tension within me to subside as I register that I'm in my car and I’m safe. There’s a blanket fashioned into a pillow holding my head that I don't remember putting there as I sit up.

“It’s me,” he says slowly, like I could mistake him for his brother. But what is unmistakable is that unlike me the night's revelations have rejuvenated him. I hear waves crashing on the sand and sit upright. He drove all the way to the beach house by himself. I reach in the glovebox and press the garage door opener; it opens and Eli reverses the car. Once the garage door closes the sensor lights turn on and we’re safe from the darkness of night. I can't believe I fell asleep. I can see Eli has a million and one questions but there’s one that takes precedence. He needs to know I'm okay.

“I’m okay” I tell him and he nods, taking his eyes off me and unbuckling his seatbelt. I turn to find Carmen snoring softly in the backseat. 

“Carmen” I reach tapping her and she wakes up slowly looking like a showgirl still in her performance outfit.. 

“Where are we?” she yawns.

“My summer house - on the water” I tell her and she nods while sitting up. I exit first and Eli helps Carmen out the car. I put the code in the door and enter the home through the garage.

“It looks just like granny’s place,” Carmen says looking around.

“Ma said a shrine was unproductive so when I got my advance I hired a decorator and had them stage the place with Granny’s things - just more modern and beachy” I explain plopping on the couch.

“I need to get out of this, are there clothes here?” Carmen asks and I nod.

“I have some things, Eli, what size are you?” I ask turning to him.

“XL” Carmen says.

“XL” He affirms.

“You know your stuff” I tell her.

“Stack wears an XL. I just want to say it now so it’s on the table. Stack and I have fooled around before. He never bit me ever and I think I may be why he’s after you Knotty. Two months ago I invited him in - I know I fucked up and I was sleuthing Delta Wise and the book was on my coffee table, he asked about it. I told him it was good, he said he never heard of it and I let him take my copy.” Carmen says and I swallow hard, glaring at her.

“You invited him in?”

“Yes” she says, looking terrified.

“I hope you have nothing with your parents address and your devices are locked. If not, no shower, you have to make sure everything is okay.” I tell her.

“Knotty, he never bit me. Aside from being a hoe he was decent when I would go to the club to dance for some extra money. Stack is … was cool, with the exception of ole’ girl he doesn't play around with them folks coming around and causing trouble. I’ve never seen him in a bad mood until yesterday. Never seen him touch a woman that didn't want to be touched by him until yesterday.” Carmen says. I want to judge her but until recently I too had my fair share of secrets.

“Carmen we’re no longer dealing with the same Stack, if there’s a chance he can turn Smoke then he’ll do whatever to succeed at that goal” I explain and find Eli looking at the legend I sent him on the caride here. My naming chart - the one I used that has the real names of the real people from Granny’s stories and the names that made it into the book.

“I'll call my parents and hope they listen” she says and I head upstairs and find all three of us something to wear. I’m thankful for my oversized era when I find a graphic tee and cotton pj pants that should fit Eli. He looks up at my return as I hand him the clothes, towels, soap and a toothbrush.

“She’s something” he says motioning upstairs to Carmen and I smile.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Fine” he nods without missing a beat. “I don't remember any of this shit though. If I didn't see him and feel it I wouldn't believe it” Eli says matter of factly. “It also explains why you haven't been yourself”

“You don’t know the adult me” I tell Eli.

“People don’t change.” He says pointing to his phone with the book names. 

“Apothecary check, author check, Atlantis?” He says to lighten the mood and it makes me smile.

“I’m done - I have plenty more than I can handle” I confess.

“So what am I and what do we do?” he says. Unlike my mother he trusts me.

“I can't be sure, I have everything from oral traditions as you know ‘witches’ have been persecuted historically. Granny said twins were a force of nature - womb to the tomb. You’ve been reincarnated because Stack hasn’t found rest, your soul got restless. I can't be sure but I suspect Annies Mojo bag for you has something to do with it.” I explain and he's back looking at his phone finding Annie's book character name. 

“Smokes wife” he says, still dissociating from reality.

“Your wife” I correct and he swallows. “Hold your shirt up” I tell him and he does. I point to his birthmark on his lower abdomen. “They say birthmarks, moles and beauty marks are totems of our past lives and spiritual gifts. Same place Sammie said Smoke's fatal shot was. Same place you have a birthmark” I explain and he looks at the area before letting the shirt fall. His brows bunch as he tries to make sense and process what I’m telling him. “How did it feel seeing Stack?” I ask and he shakes his head.

“It felt..” Eli pauses in reflection. “Like … Like I was locked in - like I could take anything. Like I was grounded, like nothing was missing” he says. “Then I saw a man's skin bubbling under the sunlight and I remembered he was about to hurt y’all” Eli says.

“You don't have to worry about me and Stack. If he bites me I go peacefully and don’t wake up and at the very least he’ll be very sick. My soul will in tact” I tell Eli, making a mental note to start brewing a tea.

“I don't think that’s the relief you think it is Knotty” Eli says in a tone that's scolding. 

“I’m already sensitive to the seasons before daylight savings. I wouldn’t last an eternity of nights” I speak frankly. “OG Smoke didn’t want that for himself either” I explain only to startle at the sound of running. Carmen emerges holding out her phone in PJ’s. Stacks name is across the caller ID. I freeze and she does too until Eli takes the phone answering the call and placing the phone on speaker on the coffee table.

“Carmen, I need to talk to Delta” Stacks voice says.

“Speaking” I say as my heart races.

“Who did you have with you?” he asks and I frown looking at Carmen and Eli as I sit forward.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play with me - I swear fo’ God I got all the time in the world to make you wish you were dead” he snaps. “I know there was a man but he isn’t showing up on surveillance” Stack says and I look at Eli. I take my phone and snap a photo of him. He’s there clear as day.

“I’m not sure what you're asking me” I swallow. 

“It was Smoke, Stack, I saw him.” I hear Mary say in the background.

“Was it my brother?” Stack asks, his voice cracking ever so slightly. 

“No” I lie.

“Then who was it? Sammie have a son I don’t know about? It was a Moore man” Stack says.

“It was Smoke” Mary repeats. “I don’t know why you couldn't see him, you were starin’ right at him” she continues in the background.

“What do you want with me?” I ask.

“Your stories to remember, I was gonna help you with another bestseller but since I think you’re lying to me. I’m on your ass” he says and the line goes dead.

_____

Pearl (Knotty’s Mom)

When I get the call from Knotty I’m at wits end. It was endearing in childhood but now it’s worrying. She's beautiful and smart and rather live in the past with superstitions than the present. I had patience for Ma because after years of therapy myself and the therapist decided it was easier for Mom to believe that her mother was taken supernaturally than the equally horrifying reality. It was the deep south in the 1930’s. It was more likely the klan wiped out the entire juke joint that night and that man that came telling tales of vampires was just a boy who’d also been traumatized. The mind is a fascinating place that will do all it can to survive. I don’t blame Mama. She was only five when she heard the story for the first time and her little mind held onto it. Then she spent much of her life searching for answers. So much so that it ruined her marriage to my father and now it has Knotty spinning out of control. It happens every year around this time when Ma’s death anniversary comes around and then the dreaded October 15th. 

“How is Knotty affording this boat?” Jason asks.

“I don’t know - maybe Ma left her a trust we don’t know about”

“She was fifteen and your mom didn’t have much - she was always giving everything away” Jason says looking around the nice bedroom. “I just hope I don’t have to pay for it,” he comments.

“Knotty hasn't asked for money in years” I remind him.

“Doesn’t mean I dont send her a bi-weekly allowance. She’s never been good with money” He says and I nod.

“I’m worried about her”

“I warned you and your mother not to indulge her. Eventually she’d have to grow up and now she’s grown and single, reclusive and taking up with the least respectable of her family members” He sighs.

“So I’m to blame?”

“That’s not what I’m saying babe. We’re not gonna be alive forever and what’s Knotty gonna do when we’re gone huh? She’s not equipped to deal with real life” he says.

“I don’t want to argue about Knotty, we can once she’s doing well”

“And if this episode lasts longer then we try things my way”

“Jason, I don’t know if you realized but we’re not a part of her world anymore. She does things for us. She never invites or includes us to whatever she has going on. Unless your way means reaching in - we’re not trying it. God gave us one and I won’t be excommunicated by her” I snap defending our girl. Jason’s jaw clenches out of frustration.

“I’m gonna go talk to the guys,” he says leaving the room. I call Knotty and it goes to voicemail, so I text her that everyones on the boat is safe and ten minutes later the message is hearted. I know why we’re on a boat even if everyone else doesn’t. Lore says vampires can't cross bodies of water. This boat has been checked for coffins and dirt before we boarded I’m sure of it. It lets me know in spite of our differences Knotty still loves us and so I won't quit on her.

Signing deeply my hand hovers over the contact of someone I’ve only called twice in the over three decades I've known her. Letting out a frustrated sigh I look out onto the water from the small window and call Merin.

_______

Eli ‘Smoke’ Moore

Only thing that’s clear to me is Hoodoo has left me with more questions than answers. I make breakfast for the girls needing to do something with my hands to stop the snaking. Knotty’s out on the beach porch watching the waves and taking calls when Carmen emerges from outside.

“How is she?” I ask Carmen.

“Knotty’s tougher than she looks and granny was tougher. No disrespect to your wife but a mother’s love is different to anything you could feel for a partner. Trust nothing unfortunate is happening to her. Granny probably has every angel suited up for her.” Carmen says and there’s no jealousy in her.

“Not you?” 

“Me too clearly if Stack didn't take a chunk out of my throat. But she loved me because I was her granddaughter, not because I was her favorite. Anyone with eyes could see what she and Knotty had was special.” Carmen explains. “You’re lucky Knotty’s picky ass likes you. She’s very precious about her space and energy. She doesn’t let half of our family touch her for greetings. No handshakes or hugs without wearing special jewelry. You might be reincarnated but just know you’re lucky to be this close to Knotty” she warns. I don’t let onto it, but I like her how down she is for Knotty.

“You and Stack?” I ask.

“Are done, it takes freaky to a new level” she says. “I wonder though? Are identical twins identical in every way” she asks, pointing at my pants. I hear a chuckle.

“Don’t mind her Eli, all she thinks about is sex” Knotty smiles coming in and closing the door behind her. “Get it out of your system Merin will be here in 45 minutes and I convinced the family to charter a boat. Everyone we love will be safe and on the water sailing before sunset” Knotty smiles.

“Shit all that this morning?” Carmen asks.

“Oh no,  there was more. Surprise, surprise my store was vandalised last night. Glass, herbs, water and oil everywhere. Everything on the shop floor is no longer salvageable.” Knotty says, putting her phone down in exasperation. 

“Fuck Knotty, I’m sorry whats the damage?” 

“I don't know yet but I know if I were to head home to the precinct or to the store Stack would be on me so I found a lawyer.” she smiles, shaking her head.

“What’s funny?” Carmen asks.

“I mean it’s so Stack Moore I should have seen it coming. Makes me trust Sammie’s words all the more” Knotty shrugs. “That’s good for us, but we need to be careful. He’ll go for our loved one’s like he went for Annie” she says, pointing between us. Carmen nods and the silence is heavy. Instead of fanning the flames of their worry I try to diffuse the situation.

“I’m finished with breakfast” I tell them and Carmen comes into the kitchen first.

“You must like thick women or is that all for you?” She asks, making Knotty laugh. 

I’m complimented for my culinary skills and the girls clean up, letting me make a few calls to situate my own affairs before I return to the living room to study what seems to be my history some more. Merin or Mama Meringue comes through around lunchtime with groceries and guidance. She’s one of those Erykah Badu types you can see and feel she’s different when she enters the room, her voice is something too. She handed Knotty a laptop and she’s been outside ever since with headphones on. “She’ll be fine” Merin says and when I look over Merin’s watching me as she chops up greens.

“Carmen said the same thing” I sigh standing and putting the hardcopy of club juke down.

“Carmen’s right,” Merin smiles.

“Any theories as to why she’s in the middle of all this then?” I ask and Merin smiles, putting her attention back on the feast she’s making.

“A few” she nods and I swallow waiting for her to open up. “You don’t need to worry about Knotty you need to decide on you”

“Kill my brother, become a vampire, die and be reborn” I list my options.

“You killed your father, killing your brother would taint your soul beyond reproach. It couldn’t be done at your hands.” she says.

“Y’all keep talking to me about shit I don't remember” I snap and she walks over to the cabinets and plucks an incense stick from a tin. She lights it and the smell gives me a deja-vu just for a split second of a woman holding a child.

“There’s a way to save Stack and Smoke” Knotty says coming in. I look at Merin who seems like she knew that already. “We need to research the planetary alignment of the night of October 15th 1931 and wait for a day with similar conditions. Mary has to be willing to die. Blood of a lover must be spilled because Mary’s who turned Stack should end their connection and eliminate the love spell.”

“How do we convince her to do that?” Merin asks.

“She already has a lifetime of him,” Knotty shrugs. “If Stack misses Smoke like he says it's an option - a chance at mortality and then Smoke only has to finish this life” Knotty says, placing her laptop on the counter to show pictures of writing in an old book.

“That wouldn't be enough. I’m sure Stack has accumulated enemies. He would be a liability” Merin says and Knotty sighs. “I’ll keep searching,” she says, heading back outside.

“Why don’t you tell her you already have the answers?” I ask Merin and she pauses. “Only time someone is as calm as you are in a crisis they’re a double agent or sure about what's gonna go down. I know you love Knotty so why not tell her you know what to do?” I ask Merin.

“I guess Sammie never noticed how perceptive you are,” she says, avoiding an answer. “Her mind never stops and if she was free Knotty would inhibit progress” Merin says. “Like searching for pearls in gator filled waters as a means to help,” Merin says, washing her hands. I look outside and nod in understanding.

“We had no idea who you were Eli, none but we should have known Knotty only liked old souls at that age” she smiles and I nod heading outside. Knotty’s texting and I light a cigarette giving her some space.

“You lasted a long time in there. Merin usually makes people uncomfortable in under ten minutes. You were there with her for two hours” she says.

“Were you timing me?” I ask

“Maybe” Knotty smiles. “She likes you,” she says, turning to Merin inside the house.

“How do you know that?”

“She’s cooking for us. Merin has her tells before anything important a lot of priestesses practice their preparation art. Attention to detail, intention focus” Knotty lists.

“So you practice?”

“No, Granny and Merin said it’s not for me. I know things but I leave it to them” she shrugs. “Wanna walk the beach? I’m gonna go cross eyed if I keep reading old journals” she says and I nod. She takes her shoes off knotting her skirt to shorten it and skips down the steps. It’s the Knotty I knew. “Can’t imagine loving a man enough to condemn my soul for a love spell and still get cheated on” she says talking about Mary and Stack. “Can you?” she asks.

“I don't believe in love spells and Merin says my soul is corrupted already” I tell Knotty who stops smiling. She takes a deep breath looking up at me.

“If that was totally true Stack would have seen you” she says wistfully.

“So why can he see you?” I ask her knowing her soul is nowhere near mine.

“Why are men so hard to convince of the truth?” she asks.

“Here we go” I mutter but she doesnt start, she stops looking out at the water.

“If I never went searching for clams we wouldn't be here. Only reason I was searching for clams in Mississippi in the first place is because Granny wanted to find information about who? Her mama Pearline. Who died outside of your juke joint in the morning of October 16th 1931. I don’t know how you can not believe in that” she says and I find myself smiling at her faith. 

“Knotty one, Eli nil” I mutter and she chuckles. Still looking out at the water.

“What are you thinking about now?” I ask.

“Atlantis” she winks. “And pearls” She says before taking off into the crashing waves while fully clothed. She turns to face me smiling just as a wave hits her. She goes under holding a hand up and then flailing. Fucking hell Knotty. I think kicking off my shoes and going in for her. When I get to her she laughs splashing me. A wave hits us and it’s so light I know she was acting. I hit the water splashing her back and she laughs some more floating on her back in the cold water.

“You're crazy” I inform her getting out.

“Don't be mad Eli, I was just keeping your soul light.” she laughs coming in after me. It’s like she hasn't aged a day. It’s the Knotty I expected. She adjusts her clothes, ringing out her hair and I shake my head at her.

“Soul light by giving me a heart attack?” I ask and she mocks me.

“I really should have known you’re a grandpa” she says.

“Should've known you were up to no good when you didnt keep your shoes on” I say, picking up mine. She winks at me accepting her charges. 

“Just like you ran in for me, I’m gonna do all I can for you and Merin’s on board and she has contacts so we’ll be okay. Be positive - negativity feeds on fear. That’s why Stack nearly got me. If I’d just have faced him-”

“Vampires are liars, I read as much” I interrupt her from taking blame. “If the book is true it’s my fault for not killing him” I ad.

“You couldn’t do it without both of you going together” Knotty says and when we get back to the house Merin’s at the back door with Carmen.

“I won't even ask, I just hope you have a dryer for your locs” Carmen says as Knotty wrings out her clothes on the back deck.

“Go shower before you catch a cold,” Merin scolds.

“Okay, I gave the water an offering we’re gonna be alright” Knotty smiles before sloping a trail of water upstairs. Merin gets a mop shaking her head.

“I’ll bring you a towel, go take a shower in the bathroom on this floor” she tells me and it's my turn to make a mess. I don't remember the last time someone just mopped up a mess without scolding or a tirade or making me clean up after myself. Being carefree is a strange feeling, maybe that’s what made me like Knotty in the first place as kids. The adults around her never had harsh tones, punishment for wrongdoings were measured and not hot blooded and overly passionate. Her people fed all the kids in the area just because instead of going on and on about the extra mouths to feed. I was treated like one of them just like I am now. Once I wash off Merin has a plate waiting for me.

______

Knotty

It’s nearly midnight when I find Eli smoking in the garage. He’s been at it for at least an hour and I know it’s Merin’s doing. Granny always called her a kitchen witch. He kills the smoke when he sees me, always the protector.

“Are you still upset about the beach?” I ask and he raises a brow.

“What do you think?” He asks and I hold up a perfectly wrapped blunt.

“Peace offering?” I ask and he looks at the door suspiciously like Merin will come out and scold me in my own house.

“You smoke?” he asks.

“Everyone thinks I’m such an angel and … I am” I tell him, lighting mine. He holds out a hand as I inhale and I light his before inhaling. He takes a drag, impressed by the cannabis’ quality and I smile. “I hope you don't change too much when Merin’s done her work to save you and Stack.”

“You think I will?” Eli asks.

“Well Sammie said you were a hardass that no one played with. I can require a lot of patience - if you have none. I guess it's goodbye in a few weeks” I shrug considering the reality for the first time. I take another drag and so does Eli. “What if you only remember everything that happened before that night in the thirties and I’m a stranger and you have to adjust to technology and the new world?” I propose thinking out loud.

“Even weed can't slow you down” he mutters and I chuckle sitting on the steps that lead back inside the house. “Fine, I’ll shut up” I concede smoking in silence.  Eli does the same, getting his down to a roach in no time. I let him finish mine and he thanks me with a nod, taking a drag as he goes back to his spot standing away from me. I wonder what he’s thinking but I give him the reprieve of not asking.

“I don't think I’ll forget Knotty James,” he says, breaking the silence. “I mean we met in Mississippi because her Granny was trying to find out information on her ma Pearline who died outside my juke at sunrise, and Knotty was searching for pearls in the river” he says back to me using my same logic. I know he hates it but I can't help myself and I give him a hug. He hugs back, chuckling at me.

“Don’t change,” he says, holding me tight.

____

Author's Note: Thank you all for getting to the credits of this chapter! Hope you enjoyed this new update and the personalities of the characters as they prepare for whats to come.

What did we think of this chapter?

Raise your hand in the comments if you kind've foresaw the Carmen and Stack connection? if it shocked you let me know?

Don't we love Knotty's Mom and dad ? 😜

Are we surprised Stack trashed the apocethary?

Do we think Eli will forget Knotty if all goes as planned?

Do we think Mary will be down for the plan? Or is she gonna go against the grain? Does she need more time with her man?

Sound off in the comments. Don't forget to reblog, comment, tag and leave a like.

Side note: I am not a practitioner and respect closed practices, so I do not dabble or google. Most of the ideas in the chapter come from things i've seen, heard etc. With the exception of some herbal medicine which I may google. So if something is wrong or offensive to anyone who does practice please know that was not my intent. My intent is to respect that that I am an outsider.

______

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[former-incel]

You start off overanalyzing all of your interactions with women and holding back any attempts to flirt with them because you don't want to scare them off.

Eventually, you start having positive interactions with them. People who give you advice often assume that the initial interaction is the hardest because of fear of rejection and lack of confidence, so they'll assume that the problem is solved by this stage. But for many men, this stage is actually the hardest part, because its when you start becoming overconfident and your bad habits fuck you over.

Women start complimenting you and welcoming you to hang out with them. Some women flirt with you and tell you how attractive you are. Other men may start calling you a "ladies' man". So you start to let your guard down. You become addicted to flirting with women and try to make it happen too often. You become less careful about women's boundaries and start taking bolder guesses at how to flirt with them. You take a time when a woman flirted with you or consented to you flirting with her and you start treating that as your default pattern for interacting with women. You become more open about beliefs you have that may be harmful. You start making possibly offensive jokes with less hesitation. And eventually, those women who used to like you stop liking you.

In some ways, it's okay to let your guard down. If you started off trying to be as normal as possible in order to prevent being preemptively judged, it's okay to start being weird in ways that don't hurt others. If a woman has expressed continuous consent to something, it's okay to continue doing it. But you shouldn't have a "game over, I win" attitude. You still need to care how your actions affect people. Every single time you flirt with someone, you need to analyze whether she's consenting to it and how much you'd be imposing on her if you find out that she didn't want you to do it. You need to make sure she always feels safe saying no to you. And it must never become your default for interacting with women in general.

[my-quirk-is-fred]

My take on the male loneliness epidemic:

It’s real, but not only is it not what people believe it to be, but it’s also not actually treated accurately by those that claim they are affected by it.

The cause of the epidemic is not one thing, not one factor, but a multitude of reasons that even men refuse to acknowledge and consider.

Whenever I see a man (and in some cases women), usually right leaning or incel-like, go on a tangent about the epidemic, it usually comes down to how they cannot get female strangers specifically to validate them. Seriously. There are men who complain about how women don’t appreciate or trust them (ex: bear vs man hypothetical), how they can’t get anything out of them (ex: a relationship), etc, and it always seems to actually downplay the epidemic that they claim to be effected by.

If you are lonely because you want a woman to validate you, then that is a self inflicted expectation that was inflated by the real issue. Women are not the real reason you are lonely.

Gay men are also affected by the same epidemic as straight men. And it’s not women who make them lonely.

So what is the cause of male loneliness? What is the root issue? And what is it that contributes and continues the epidemic?

Let’s dive into this, shall we…?

1. The start.

The male loneliness epidemic actually starts when you are a child. As a young boy, you are expected to be tough, responsible, in control, etc all while the adults push the expectations of getting a wife or a girlfriend on you.

You are expected to wear and like ‘boy’ colors, you are expected to like rough sports that may not have been your choice to begin with, you are expected to have your personal boundaries broken if it doesn’t align with the adult’s wants (ex: they cut off your long hair because it’s “gay”)

If you cry, they mock you for being pathetic.

If you emotionally reach out to another boy, you are called gay by your equally affected peers and adults.

If you reach out to a girl, everyone assumes you are romantically interested in her, which leads to you or the girl distancing yourselves from each other.

You are not allowed to develop emotionally, you are not allowed to explore boundaries and relationships, and you are not allowed to be human.

That. That is the core. The beginning of the infection.

It’s not your fault. You don’t deserve to be beaten or mocked when you cry.

But unfortunately, that is going to be ingrained into you for the next several years…

2. Growing expectations.

As you get older, people expect you to take on bigger responsibilities and they expect you to like it. They want marriage and to grow up faster than is possible. They expect you to ‘man up’ while giving mixed signals about the opposite sex.

“You don’t need a woman but you need a woman to have your emotional, physical, and spiritual needs met.”

Women are treated as both the answer to your problems AND the cause of them. It confuses and hurts your mental health without you understanding and it leads to unrealistic expectations. And it doesn’t help that your deprivation of emotional connections to non-romantic relationships is screaming for something to relieve it.

You now expect to have a spouse or a woman to fill that gaping hole that the adults in your childhood had dug and infected with confusing and damaging ideas.

You expect to get a high labor job that could literally kill you to prove your worth to this nonexistent woman, your peers, your mentors… and yourself.

You are at a stage where you have mental blocks that are keeping you from reaching out to people, developing your emotional intelligence, and understanding the growing hurt you are feeling due to shame and fear.

You think it’s weak to cry, you think that either you or the women are the problems, and you view other men as threats with or without your knowledge.

You unknowingly seek out validation from abusive men, hoping they will tell you that the women are the problem, that you’re perfect but you need to get a better job, and that there’s nothing wrong with you.

3. The self infliction “stage”

You spiral, you miss what really causes this isolation, and you worsen the problem to the point where everyone steers clear of you.

You have now entered a stage that you don’t realize you are in. It makes you bitter, it makes you neglect your true needs, and you take it out on strangers and those close to you who have to walk on eggshells around you.

It’s not your fault that you were groomed into being lonely… but you are an adult now. And as an adult, you need to clean the mess. No one else will. Some may help, but it requires you to actually let them into your house to see all the ran down furniture and the mold that spread throughout your living space.

4. The solution.

There is no simple solution. It is not a physical wound, it’s wound that remains in the complex system that is your mind. No one is the same, and some people have different priorities and recovery stages.

The first thing you can do is recognize and understand. Other people who aren’t as affected as you have figured out the root issue and have addressed it without pushing their luggage on others. You do not need a ‘bad guy’ to blame. You need yourself.

Self love is much deeper than just wanting for yourself… self love is addressing your flaws and ridding yourself of bad habits without tearing yourself down. It’s like your pet dog, you cannot simply let your dog lash out at others, you cannot let it indulge in too much of something or too little. Your dog, as much as you love them, may have problems. If you love your dog, you will not let it eat chocolate or chase down a cat.

If you love yourself, you will not expect others to fix things for you and will find yourself with someone backing you up… yourself.

Yes, to ‘cure’ loneliness is a group effort. It requires you to reach out to others and vise versa, but in order to do that, you need to understand that everyone is an individual with limits and boundaries. You need to understand that they cannot control your identity and value. And you cannot control theirs. If they cannot be emotionally available, then you need to remind yourself of your worth and leave them be.

You won’t be cured of your childhood conditioning overnight. You will still suffer. The best you can do is work towards ending the cycle. Starting with letting that little boy be a kid and emotionally reach out to his peers, male and female.

5. Conclusion/tl;dr

You don’t need a wife. You don’t need a gender specific validation. You need friends. Real friends. Real family. Real community.

Romantic relationships and surface level validations like compliments and simple acknowledgment are temporary solutions. They are Bandaids that your peers and society has hyped up to unrealistic standards. They are not your solution.

If someone found a special someone who has helped them, then props to them, but do not expect that delicate bond to fix everything nor occur so soon in your lifetime. Bonds need you to be responsible in order for it to work.

You need to have platonic bonds with others, even if you don’t think it’ll help. You need to be able to work independently without demonizing your needs and dependency for emotional connection outside of a romantic relationship.

What strangers think of your vulnerability does not matter. Your ‘femininity’ and ‘gayness’ doesn’t make you less. Who cares. If you’re happy for once, then do not concern yourself with expectations you can live without.

Now go watch transformers, share your interests with fellow autistics, and make cool shit 🫵

[sleepyangelkami]

pls do more of carl grimes😭🙏🙏 (can be smut or fluff idrc🤭)

TROUBLE ADJUSTING c.grimes

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.1K

CARL GIMES X FEM!READER

 𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - there was a heavy difference between travelling the roads filled with dead people walking and alexandria, a place that you fear is too much like the old world. you have some trouble adjusting, luckily your boyfriend carl doesn't mind you using him as a human shield.

 𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - anxiety, social anxiety, obvious attachment issues, aged up characters, (2) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

the roads were unlike anything you'd ever experienced in your entire life.

the prison wasn't exactly the best option but it was safe and it was secure. it kept the dead out and the living in. when you were at the prison, you were never told to leave the grounds. perhaps that was why the road had been such a shock to you and not the others.

you thought when you and the others got off the roads and found a new place to settle down, things would mellow out.

and by things, i mean the elephant in the room between you and carl.

you and carl had been dating for quite some time now. you'd always been close, you supposed. but on the roads? he was your safe haven. you slowly began isolating yourself into just you and him.

though he never minded, of course.

if anything, it put carl a little at ease, knowing you were always so close to him. during the prison, he worried tremendously about you, where you were during the night, what you were doing. you two weren't permitted to sleep in a cell together, at that stage.

but rick's rules began to disappear when death began to slap him in the face over and over. if anything were to happen to any of you, he'd like to think you lived doing what you wanted, what made you happy.

besides, you didn't really have anyone other than the grimes' family.

michonne and you had moved into the large grimes' house in alexandria. rick and michonne were at one end of the hall, judith's room somewhere in between and then it was carl's room. you didn't like to call it your room seeing as it wasn't your house. but the grimes' let you know that it was as much your house as it was theres.

"you wanna go for a walk or something?" carl questioned causing your head to move from his shoulder.

you and carl had this sort of ritual of reading comic books together since the beginning of the breakout. you were thankful that at least that didn't change now that you were in alexandria. "do you want to?"

carl shrugged, debating. sure, he wanted to. at the same time, he worried for you. it was evident that the change hadn't been good for you. once so bubbly and outgoing, you'd sort of shrunk into yourself. now, you didn't even feel all that comfortable talking to rick. "why not? the place is huge."

that much was true.

you'd never seen a place as huge as this, even before the breakout. you only worried that you may run into someone on the way.

"what's going on up there, baby?" his finger tapped against your head, bringing you back.

with a bitten lip, you tried your best to conceal the obvious anxiety bubbling in your chest. "i don' know... i jus' don't wanna see anyone."

"we don't have to." he shrugged his shoulders. "we'll just keep reading the comic." before relaxing back into the pillows of his bed.

but you couldn't leave it at that. "but you want to. you should go without me." feeling bad that you were restricting him from doing the things he wanted.

he could only chuckle lowly. "don't be silly, angel. wouldn't go nowhere without you." he didn't realise it, but truthfully, it had been the most comforting thing you'd heard all week.

you'd had so much worry caught in your throat about going out and meeting people that you began to think you were weighing the others down, too. "but i feel bad." you mumbled, voicing your feelings to the only person you felt like you could.

carl was quick to shush you. "i was just suggesting, maybe another day. y'know, now that i think about it, i'm kind of in the mood for hot coco and a movie, what d'you say?" though he was already getting up from the bed.

you sat criss-cross legged on the bed, practically pouting at him. "you don't like hot coco." you informed him, knowing what he was getting at.

"why can't you just let me do something nice for my pretty girl, hm?" lifting out his hand to you and letting you take it.

carl would never force you to talk to anyone.

a couple more days in the new community passed and rick was beginning to get worried. of course, he knew you and carl weren't normal teenagers, you never would be after the things you'd experienced in your lives. but he wanted you to be as normal as could be, and that included at least trying to make friends.

obviously, the man hadn't picked up on the obvious anxiety that followed you like a dark cloud over your head. so, he made arrangements with the blonde woman who lived down the street who had a son about your guy's age. who had a girlfriend and another guy friend. rick thought there would be no harm in at least meeting them. and if you came back to the house, not liking them, then he wouldn't force you guys to go back.

simple.

or at least it should have been.

you were sure you were shaking like a leaf by the time you made your way to the white door from across the street. worried you'd be looked at oddly, you didn't hold carl's hand, though you stayed silent, behind him.

the woman, jessie anderson, let you in with a smile on her face.

then you met her son, ron. "so mikey and enid are upstairs waiting for us, got some cool games if you play."

"uh, sure." as much as carl wasn't the awkward type, he still felt sort of odd in someone else's house. perhaps that was because he never experienced the whole 'teenager sleepover' thing.

you followed carl up the stairs, staying eerily close to him. you heard ron talk, even crack a joke. carl laughed and made a joke back. but truthfully, their words fell on deaf ears for you. your eyes travelled around the house, glancing to the family portraits hanging and so on.

you didn't look back until ron opened his bedroom door, allowing you both in and shutting it again. "hey guys." a boy with black hair whipped around and the girl who was sat on the bed, comic in hand, didn't bother looking up.

"oh, hey." the boy didn't exactly say hi to ron, more so to carl and you.

"hi." the girl spoke, not so much as looking away from the pretty coloured pages.

"so, this is mikey." pointing to the black haired boy who nodded swiftly before turning back to the gaming console he'd been playing on. "and enid." the girl who finally glanced up, eyeing the two of you before nodding. "and guys, this is carl and... sorry, what was your name again?"

three pairs of oggling eyes on you. you felt your own eyes widen and your mouth part, a little dry. suddenly, your own name was caught in your throat.

"y/n." carl responded for you, loud and proud as if he'd wanted to boast about you. "her name's y/n." instinctively, you found yourself shuffling closer to the boy, trying to make yourself as unseen as possible.

you swore you didn't leave his side the entire time you spent there. he got comfortable on the ground, back against the bed while ron sat above you two, at the edge, mikey on the desktop chair and enid, now on her second comic.

"so, how long you two been together?" you glanced up at the sound of mikey's voice. he was a well put together boy, expensive sweater and a collared shirt beneath. you were suddenly thankful for carl's dirty boots, cowboy hat and loose flannels. "been third wheeling these two for like forever. i know a couple when i see one."

carl and ron both huffed out a laugh, you did not. "yeah, we've been together for like forever too." carl's head turned to give you a graceful smile, one that had your cheeks turning a light pink before smiling back ever so softly. "hey, where's the, uh, where's the bathroom?"

you were almost tempted to grasp his arm and tell him you were coming with.

"just out the hall, first door to the right." ron answered, without taking his eyes off the screen.

"thanks, man." carl's baby blue's turned back to your nervous face. "i'll be back in a second, okay?"

you nodded, though you could feel the colour drain from your face without even looking in a mirror. carl left as quickly as he could, deciding that the quicker he left, the quicker he would be back. "so..." ron voiced again. you suddenly wondered how much he liked the sound of his voice, seeing as he wouldn't stay quiet for longer than a full minute. "not much of a talker?" you nodded your head softly before hearing the loud crash on the video game, jumping a little. "jumpy too huh?" you breathed out a sigh, shying in on yourself.

"don't worry." enid voiced, only now choosing to speak. "you get used to the noise again."

this caused your head to spin, what was she talking about. and without even having to ask, ron answered your question. "enid was on the roads too. i heard your group was on the road for a while, how was it?"

how was it?

"scary." you answered shortly, turning backwards and feeling your hands become clammy.

if there was one thing you wanted to forget, it was the roads. every day, it seemed as though you were loosing someone else. every day, you faced death and it stared you back right in the eyes. panic would come over you, wheeze it's way through your lungs.

carl would always hold you back, close to him as he stabbed his way through walkers with the others. but even that was a comfort to none.

every day, you were living, wondering if it'd be your last.

"i'll bet. i couldn't imagine living without my xbox." he snorted before pressing the shooting button again and letting bullets fly. it was now that you wished carl was next to you again, at least then you could squeeze his hand 'til it turned purple.

you wondered if everyone here was that shallow. if everyone only worried about their xbox or their stupid assets that in the long run, meant nothing.

"so, what do you think about alexandria?" this time it was mikey who'd asked the question.

"scary." you huffed out again. "but a different kind of scary."

"intimidating." enid answered for you. "it'll be like that for a while but you get used to it, just like the noise." you could tell that she was one of the good ones. the ones who don't care about silly things like objects. you could tell she'd seen the horrors you had, too.

"thanks." you mumbled, sheepishly glancing down to your fingers.

soon enough, carl returned from the bathroom, catching onto your face full of anxiety. he excused you both, stating that his dad needed help rearranging furniture or something or other. stupidly enough, the others believed you and soon bid a goodbye.

when you left, it felt like you could finally breathe again. you let out a breath of relief, fluttering your eyes shut and opening them again. carl was careful to peer at your face. "what'd you think?"

"the girl's nice." you mumbled.

"yeah? think so?" you could only nod in response. "well that's good, maybe you guys'll become friends. and the guys?"

you shrugged. "ron talks a lot." this caused carl to grin, a laugh puffing out from his cheeks causing you to do the same. it was much easier to laugh when it was just you and carl, even after everything you two had been through. "did you like 'em?"

"i guess." he gently nudged his nose against your cheek. "nothing compared to you, though." you couldn't help but roll your eyes, pretty smile dancing on your cheeks.

you huffed out again, noticing the way your chest suddenly felt clear of knots. "that was scary." you spoke honestly.

carl nodded his head, understanding that it wasn't exactly your thing. "it'll get better, though. just takes some getting used to." you couldn't agree more. "you're just having a little trouble adjusting, that's all. but you got me, right?"

the boy's elbow nudged you causing you to giggle softly and lean against his shoulder. "yeah, i got you."

he pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of your hair. "c'mon, let's go pick out another comic."

now that sounded like fun.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[dollyforever]

･ﾟﾟ･｡Dolly's sleep paralysis method for shifting

🌟 You heard that right. This is a method I'm sure someone else has thought of already, but I'm putting it into words for you guys.

Now, this method is weird and can even be scary to some. I recommend it to those who have gotten SP before or just aren't afraid of anything. But anyone can do it, really!

This is my favorite method, I've been able to shift multiple times with it. My little brother also uses it to lucid dream :)

1. How does it work?

It's very simple. Have you ever tried shifting through a lucid dream, only to end up waking up in your cr bed, not being able to move? You might even see or hear things, what some people call "Sleep paralysis demon"

Now, here's the thing: sp demons don't exist.

🗣️-"But Dolly, why do I see, feel and hear things when I'm in sleep paralysis? It freaks me out!"

🐇- Sleep paralysis is a state, during waking up or falling asleep, in which a person is conscious but in a complete state of full-body paralysis. During an episode, the person may hallucinate, which often results in fear.

It happens when you pass between stages of wakefulness and sleep.

(If you're interested in the science behind it)

During REM sleep the body enters a state of temporary paralysis called muscle atonia. This state is likely a mechanism to prevent sleepers from injuring themselves by acting out their dreams. That's why you can't move!

Many experts believe that hallucinations during sleep paralysis occur when people experience the vivid dreams of REM sleep while they are awake.

So, don't worry about this so-called demon. It can't hurt you. Its just your half-asleep brain!

PRO TIP: When you find yourself in SP, don't open your eyes. Just relax, and remind yourself it's just your body being half asleep. If you have scary thoughts, shake them off. Sleep paralysis can even be fun if you learn how harmless it is.

2. And how can you shift with it?

Because SP is a state of half-sleepiness, it's the perfect time to manipulate your consciousness into being somewhere else.

I'll separate this method in two parts:

1.How to get sleep paralysis?

I've always gotten SP when my sleep is disrupted. That is, if I go to sleep at my usual time, like 10pm, and put an alarm to wake up at 2am (3-4 hours after falling asleep is perfect), and stay awake for a few hours, then fall back asleep, my brain will be all like: whaaaat?

My little brother also uses this method to lucid dream, and it always works for him. So, in steps:

Go to sleep when you're comfortable. Put an alarm to wake up 3-4 hours after falling asleep.

Wake up with that alarm, and now chill! Go to the bathroom, watch some youtube videos, read a book, wake yourself up, and wait until you're sleepy again. This usually takes me 2-4 hours awake. It's best to do it in weekends, please don't do this on school nights 😭

Fall back asleep. This might be hard, but just spend some time in the darkness, daydream about your dr, just relax and let your body slowly fall asleep.

You might wake up paralysed. That means it worked! (Scroll down a bit to see what you do at this point)

There are other methods to get sleep paralysis. This is just my personal favourite, but everybody is different!

2. I'm in sleep paralysis! Now what?

Now, just relax. Calm your mind, remind yourself: this is just my brain half-asleep.

Keep your eyes closed. Take your time to affirmate. My personal favourite is "I am shifting" because it's easy to remember.

Try to visualise your desired reality. Imagine you're already there. Because you are.

You might feel really strong symptoms, but I personally find them fun.

If you're very scared, don't worry. You can always wake up from SP. Just try moving a bit, and after a few seconds, you should be back to normal.

🐇

Anyways, tell me if you have any questions. I'm super bad at explaining so I'm sorry if something doesn't make a lot of sense! This is just a method, and everybody is different so what works for me might not work for you! Happy shifting 💗

- Doll

[muntitled]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐄𝐏. 𝐈 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐦𝐚𝐧

❝ 𝘾𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙚, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣? ❞

Pairings: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Being begrudgingly seduced by the anarchist

Warnings: Language, Enemies to Lovers, Cop!Reader, Revolutionary!Seonghwa, Implied Violence, Crazy Form!Au, Seduction, Smut (+18, minors dni) Corruption Kink, Innocence Kink, Masochism, Humping, Fingering, pet names, Rough Sex, Massive Degradation Kink, Dom!Seonghwa, Sub!Reader, Squirting, Humiliation, Unprotected Sex, Hate Sex

A/n: I might turn this into a series featuring all the Pirates with their own smutty little parts because I cannot help re-watching the Crazy Form mv. It's too good

The very sight of the undulating mosh pit has your stomach rolling with nausea as you enter the dimly lit warehouse. The corrugated walls are illuminated only by various splotches of neon paint, and you suddenly feel the uncanny need to pray as you enter the crowd.

You begin to grow fearful, not onky because this crowd might birth a fresh panic attack, but because you fear for your focus as well.

That you may not be swayed from your mission.

The Intel that led you and your police partner here had been incredibly difficult to come by because every one of their little followers were so terribly loyal.

So naturally, upon receiving a tip off about a show being hosted on the seedier outskirts of town, you had no choice but to attend.

In this unpredictable field of law enforcement, of one thing you are completely certain: There will always be a clear distinction between the good and the bad and they are as bad as they come.

They are common criminals, and there is nothing else to it.

In fact, referring to them as anything but, feels like a gross display of exaltation. Exaltation, which is, evidently, what they are used to.

Disgust is smeared across your face as you and your police partner sieve your way through drunken bodies swaying to the sound of Seonghwa's voice. Although you're shoving roughly past people, all in an attempt to get to the front of the stage, you can not help but marvel at the crowd, undulating to the beat of a bandit.

His face, along with the faces of 7 of his fellow delinquents were smeared across every wanted poster in the city, and yet here he is, raging into a microphone while the crowd cheers his name.

“If I hear ‘Seonghwa’ one more time I fear I might shoot myself in the foot,” you call out, to your partner not far behind, “Keep a tight grip on your weapons, please,” you say, craning your neck back as you palm cradles your back pocket with the Glock 14 nestled inside, “We don't know what any of these idiots are on and I dont think we want to find out.”

Your civilian attire is successful in keeping the attention off of you and your partner as you break out of the heat and anxiety of the moshpit, right in front of center stage.

Seonghwa is right above you, cradling a microphone as if it were the Holy grail while his accomplice, a very inebriated San, bounds across the stage, stirring up the crowd like Seonghwa's personal hypeman.

You could almost feel your vexation increasing to ungodly heights.

Everything about this egregious display of egomania makes your blood boil raging hot, and although these are only 2, you find your hands clenching in anticipation of being one step closer to putting all 8 behind bars.

Your hatred seems to be oozing out of your pores because soon, you catch his attention. Perched on a stage elevated amongst the masses, he is looking at you now. You. Instead of any of the other drunken groupies in the crowd begging to get even a sliver of attention.

With both hands cuffed around the mic, he peers down at you and winks before belting out the final words of the song.

How badly you itched to bind his wrists with your silver cuffs.

How badly you wished to get him and his insolent underlings off the streets.

"They do know how to capture an audience… we can at least give them that," Your head snaps sideways as the words of your partner rouses what little patience you're already working with.

You tap lightly at his badge. The sound of your nail hitting the metal is drowned out by the raucaus applaud but your police partner watches you intently as you cooly say, “Don't forget why we're here, Sergeant,” your voice holds caution as the noise of the crowd trickles down.

The set ends, and the man on stage drenched in flamboyant white linen bids the crowd a ‘Very good night’. He strolls off stage, not without giving you one last, knowing glance.

‘If you catch me, it's because I let you catch me,’ is what those eyes seem to be saying.

So much for blending into an unsuspecting crowd.

“These are not your friends. They're common criminals.” Your voice is louder now, with the absence of that Seonghwa's cacophony. “Stay here, make sure none of these degenerates kill themselves.” You're hellbent om following Seonghwa off the stage, but your partner's light snickers have you pausing slightly. You raise your eyebrows in questioning.

“You speak about them like they're not just fans," Your partner shakes his graying head, "Like they're complicit,”

“They are." You almost immediately reply with a narrowed gaze. "As far as I'm concerned, their fans are just as bad as them.”

With those parting words you make your way towards the part of the warehouse sectioned off from the rest of the crowd, where Seonghwa and his accomplice disappeared off to in the wake of their applause.

You reach what appears to be a backroom hidden behind the makeshift stage. It is far quieter than the rest of the warehouse pulsating with cacophony. You do not miss the slight apprehension that swallows you whole when your feet stop you from venturing over the threshold.

“It doesn't look like you have a backstage pass,” San sits beside Seonghwa on a couch positioned in the focal point of the small room. You recognize hid face as another one of the men whose visage was stamped in a very large police docket on your desk.

“Apologies,” you murmer to San, “I only have one of these,” you raise your police ID to the side of your face and San rises from his seat in mild curiosity. He sinks closer to you while Seonghwa, the man who held most of your attention, sits reclined, with his legs spread on the wide sectional.

He sits lazily, almost kingly under a giant white sheet. A flag plastered to the wall, with a giant, obnoxious, A carelessly spray painted in black.

“I thought we said no fans allowed backstage." San says in a sing-song voice, blatantly ignoring your badge with his giant shoulders now bending down to your height. The circumference of his hat casts a wide shadow over you, all in a clear display of intimidation. "That counts for pigs, too.”

His steely gaze never wavers from your face, and you fight valiantly to keep your emotions tamed under a calm, nonchalant reserve. "If you're a cop, where's your uniform?" San does an obnoxious display of racking his eyes over your body.

"Your dad's place," you whisper cooly, "I couldn't put it on in time."

Your words have an unmistakable smile cracking on the sides of San's face. "I enjoyed that very much."

"I thought a degenerate like you might." Despite your words, San is still smiling. In fact, you fear yourself at risk of slipping right into that enchanting gaze of his were it not for the interception of the third voice in the room.

“How interesting,” Seonghwa's voice cuts through the tension blistering between you and San like a white, hot knife.

“Leave us.” San's head snaps backward towards his accomplice, and all Seonghwa does is smile as they communicate, quite literally without words right in front of you. Seonghwa evidently 'says' what is needed in order to get San slyly leaving room. Not before tipping his hat in parting.

With your attention now focused solely on the man ok the couch, drenched in the white linen, whose arms are outstretched and resting on the headrest, you suddenly find yourself completely and unfortunately unsure.

You had met plenty of prisoners. Dined with manner delinquents and questioned many criminals, it is only in his presence when you feel your usually tough reserve quaking at the smallest fraction. In the face of what is apparently true rebellion.

“Why don't you have a seat,” he snickers when he finds you already stepping over the threshold, making yourself all too comfortable in an evil space. Nothing good existed beyond this point.

“I hope you enjoyed the show,” There is a depth to his voice that is regrettably tickling down the edge of your spine, dousing every bit of pateince you had.

“You call it a show… I call it inciting a riot,” you shrug, finally choosing to sit beside him on the wide sectional. Far too close beside him and his outstretched arms.

Despite the warning bells, you refuse to exhibit any fear.

“Is that why you're here?” His voice remains steady as he focuses it on tracing the tips of his fingers against your shoulder. He wants to see how quickly his touch could elicit a valley of goosebumps.

He is all too pleased to find you shivering in protest.

“You're here to arrest me?” In all honesty, Seonghwa enjoyed watching you try to push him away for the sake of your precious morals. Call it masochism, but there is something enticing about a woman who so very clearly abhors everything he stands for. Seonghwa cannot help but find it almost irresistible. His captain always remarked on Seonghwa's enjoyment for not only fixing broken things but also obsessing over them.

You did not know that the frown plastered across your face only accelerated his racing heart more. Desire plunged through his arteries as he immediately recognized you as a challenge.

Something to perhaps break.

It would be so incredibly satisfying, especially because you represented everything he despised in this wretched world.

Order.

“Actually, no.” You say, staving off another shivsr as you evade Seonghwa’s steadily heavy growing eyelids. “We received a call that someone was disturbing the peace.”

“In an abandoned warehouse?” He asks, voice airy and tone almost dismissive because he is much closer to you now, leaning towards you, as if enchanted by your very scent. You watch him with apprehension as you begin to feel the very first signs of what you regrettably realize to be attraction.

However, you can not move off the couch now because you can not control any of your motor functions in your concrete bones. Every one of your morals howl for you to get away from this man. To cuff him, send him down to the precinct and convict him for... something…

but that 'something' does not come quick enough, and he's leaning closer to you, with both arms still resting on the couch behind you. Before you can blow up your entire career, and close the distance, you wrangle some bit of sense to turn your head sideways, evading his half lidded eyes and slightly parted lips.

Your blatant rejection rouses him slightly, and he readjusts himself in his seat. Seonghwa brings his legs together to better manage the heat rushing to his cock in the wake of your rejection and apparent attraction (and immense frustration) as he shifts even closer beside you.

“You will find no disturbance here,” he says, “Only music.”

His words release the floodgates of your vexation, and your head snaps as you fire off. “Music that you weaponize to spew your delinquency.”

“Ah. Ah.” Seonghwa dips his head down to your ear as he whispers, “Delinquency, or rebellion?”

You're laughing humorlessly into the air, effectively causing Seonghwa’s smile to widen and his cock to stiffen completely in the confies of his pitch black dress pants. You are oblivious to his eyes, watching you as if you hung the very moon.

“You and your… freaks preach your vitriol and call it ‘rebellion’ when all you're actually doing is polluting our city with riots and crime.”

“You don't wish to be liberated from an oppressive world order?” He adjusts himself again, getting far too excited with the way this conversation is flowing. Your wide eyes and high vibrato do little to calm his restlessness.

“What oppression!?”

His voice is quick and monotonous, “Capitalism. Classism. Racism.” His fingers clench and unclench before swiping against the back of your neck, “Why do you willingly submit to a system that is simply un-winnable? We want you to free yourselves from the hierarchy. Fucking wreck the system-”

“You're fucking Pirates,” you spit the word out, unwokowungly snapping the very last of your reserve before Seonghwa is pulling you into a heady, heavy kiss by the nape of your neck.

"Fuck yes," He whispers before pulling you in as if you weighed absolutely nothing and you let him. You let his lips move languidly against yours as your hands fall against his chains and the white linen frills spilling from his collar. His hand is still positioned on the nape of your neck and he squeezes, forcing you to kiss him back. He groans into your mouth when you begin to work with him instead of against him. You mouth falling open as his tongue collides with yours.

Vaguely, in the background, outside these four walls, you can hear the crowd beginning to cheer once again as raucous music spills from unseen speakers. You can hear San beginning to sing into a mic, and your hand on Seonghwa's shirt curls imperceptibly.

“You're so beautiful…” You hate how easily his words affect you. You hate what a slave to desire you seem to be as he leans back to immediately push his hands in between your legs.

“Tell me to stop,” he challenges, keeping his feline eyes trained on you as he unclips the buttons of your jeans with one hand. “Tell me you don't want this disgusting delinquent to make you cum over and over again.”

Your lips are pursed painfully, and you throw your head back with your eyes clenched shut as you lift your hips. All the better for him to wriggle your jeans down to your ankles.

As he brings your legs up to his lap to pull off your jeans completely, Seonghwa's movements become all the more reckless and all the more urgent.

“All the same,” he murmurs before kneeling on the floor in front of you, “You conformists are all the fucking same.” Your eyes flutter open, along with your mouth, and the very moment your gaze locks onto the spray painted flag, hanging above you, Seongwha pushes aside your underwear, immediately spearing your dripping cunt with his long fingers. You release a broken moan into the air and his smile has blossomed into a full-on lopsided, evil grin as he brings your knees up to frame his face.

“2 seconds,” he taunts, in between your chorus of broken moans going head-to-head with the sound of San’s sensational belting, “it took me 2 seconds to have you humping my hand like a pretty fucking slut-”

Despite the pleasure coursing through your body, you still manage to keep your teeth clenched as you murmur, “You're the one… fuck… you're the one kneeling in front of me like my personal whore-”

Seonghwa's eyebrows raise, and his eyes glint in excitement at your taunting. He prided himself on being someone who could take as much as he gave out, and you're doing a terrific job at holding his attention when so many other people fell short.

You were interesting, of that, Seonghwa was sure.

“You make me want you so bad, Dove,” he admits before swiping his other hand over his stiffening bulge to the rhythm of his hand pushing in and out of your cunt.

“You drive me fucking crazy-”

“You're already crazy- fuck, just like that! Please don't stop-” your clenching around his fingers, eyes locked on his wide, excited eyes and his close lipped smile as brings his other hand to swipe over your clit.

The very second his calluses make contact with your swollen, puffy clit, you're cumming around his fingers. San’s vocal rages and your screams pour out as you fight to keep your eyes open. Seonghwa's fingers are still pushing into you relentlessly, and your heart sinks when you realise the seat underneath you is drenched with your arousal.

Seonghwa's mind is flooded with the image of you squirting so shamelessly around his fingers. Seeing you give yourself over to him so seamlessly made him feel absolutely restless with arousal, and he's pushing you down onto the couch before you're able to fill the air with idle protests.

His clothes suddenly feel too constricting and he curses the black corset as he wrestles with the buttons of his collar. He does not care that the buttons are flying onto the floor because he is clambouring onto the couch and hovering over you as he slots his hips in between your open legs.

“I need you to make a mess for me,” he whispers, before pulling his collar open, showcasing a patch of his tanned chest to your wide eyes. You unbuttoned your own shirt at the very same time that Seonghwa pulls down the zip of his pants, and he nearly whines at the sight of your breasts spilling out of your top. You are using him just as much as he is using you.

“Just like that, baby,” He nods, forcing his cock deep inside you as you begin to tweak your own nipples to stave off the discomfort of being stretched open so completely.

“F-Fuck- Seonghwa…” He is still nodding as he bends down towards you. Strands of his black hair tickle your face as he positions his hands on the side of your head and ruts into you with urgency. “I don't think I can take it-”

“You're already taking it so well, Baby.” He coos, as he forces his cock deeper and deeper into your clenching walls.

“You're taking everything I have to give and you're doing it flawlessly,” his praises are like that fashioned from a poet and the sheer artistry behind mere words have your head flying backwards as you release a torrid moan into the air.

“Where are you going?” He asks with a breathless laugh as he brings your head back by the grip of your throat. He is driving his cock inside you, his own frills spilling over your skin as he chokes you relentlessly.

Seonghwa is the very sight of violent beauty: hair mussed with his collar completely undone. His corset is still fashioned around his waist but it succeeds in tightening his abdomen, bringing him closer to the edge as the torrid sounds of your fucking fills the air.

"Fuck I'm close,” He grunts with his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his skull. "Tell me you hate me-" he whispers.

"I hate you," you moan out. "I hate you so fucking much-" It fell from your lips so easily because it is the God honest truth. Despite the spell he currently has you under, in the eyes of your aspirations, and everything you've ever worked hard for, you hated him and people like him. People who threatened to dismantle the progress lawmakers have strived to protect. And so, with your orgasm crwsting and your toes clenching, you whisper those words over and over to him. And every time to tell him you hate him, he chokes you harder and fucks you deeper.

"F-Fuck- 'Hwa I'm-" he nods, eyes now incredibly pained as he drives his cock into you with no chance of stopping.

"Cum for me," His whisper has you reading a broken moan into the air and Seonghwa watches as you descend into the depths of your euphoria.

"Gorgeous-" He exclaims through clenched teeth as his own hips begin to stutter, "You're so fucking gorgeous-" He whimpers before spilling inside you.

You're both moaning into the air, at the very same time that Choi San appears at the threshold.

"You work fast," San says languidly. He shifts his gaze from your horror-stricken gaze to Seonghwa who stares at his accomplice with a smirk on his face.

"I work smarter," Seonghwa says, "not harder." You're very much aware that he is still very much inside of you in front of a complete stranger but that panic dissipates when you realize Seonghwa, himself, is nothing but a stranger...

"The police is not gonna be a problem for us anymore, right?" He asks sweetly before dipping his head down in between the crook of your neck. You are starkly aware that your silence is answer enough...