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#all this to say… i like when they r complicated :-)
lemonlimestar · 3 months
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now personally, i think as far as compelling romantic dynamics go from yj98 i think i lean more towards cissie and cassie (ALSO anitas big ass crush on cissie lmao) + kon and bart (aka kon’s big ass crush on bart) but i will say i still enjoy tim and kon’s friendship in it.
they’re so funny because they so obviously like each other. they’re best friends! or at least kon considers tim his best friend! but they’re so so so bad at showing it. they would gag excessively if they knew about the “you’re my robin…” scene. wdym you’re saying you like that guy??? just tape his favorite show while he’s in space on an insane mission??? simply beat up (or attempt to beat up) a guy on his behalf multiple times???
i dunno i just feel like kon’s viewpoint on the importance of trust and tim not telling the team his real identity is really interesting to explore. especially paralleled with adventure comics #3. the way tim so easily pulls down his cowl v.s. how it felt like pulllng teeth for him every time kon brought up secret identity issues. and mind you! a lot of that was match, but it still obviously really hurt him! especially with the entirety of what happens in owaw! (my beloved <3)
i cannot for the life of me think of the issue number but during sins of youth when kon and clark are switched and they talk about clark not bringing up his secret identity. and despite his chill demeanor, kon seems pretty hurt by it. he likes to know he’s trusted. it’s kind of the same thing with the legion in early sb94. i think his lack of secret identity initially also plays into this. like, he can talk about everything in his personal life because, well, his personal life and professional life are essentially the same thing. now cut to tim complaining about having to lie to his dad. and his friends (including young justice and even bruce). and his girlfriend(s).
their dynamic is obviously heavily impacted by where they are in their lives at that point and it’s so compelling to me specifically.
+ the way kon latches onto being able to say tim’s real name soooo bad after wwyj. like. okay girl…!
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opens-up-4-nobody · 7 months
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...
#ever sit like a corpse in your own body?#im doing a job i wasnt designed for. theres this funny thing we do in academia where we beg for money. write in consise phrasing why we#deserve funding. what it is about our project what it is about our personhood that makes us deserving. what we're doing in our present to#give back and ensure a better future. and i can pull together a description of a nervous kid who couldn't read but loved to learn anyway.#who didnt kno how to hold proper a conversation until college and so tried and got better at ppl. who wouldnt let a language problem get in#the way of information gain. who cares about making complicated info visually digestible. and that's a nice story. but it falls apart when#projected into the future. what r u doing for the future? im just trying to continue existing#dont u want to help other ppl like u? sure but i dont have anything nice to say to them. does it ever get easier? no. it probably never will#ur brain was not built for reading. sometimes things r just terrible and u have to accept that. develop a crippling mental disorder or do#something where u dont have to read. see. not helpful. bad attitude. im just too full of blood and broken glass. all my achievements r#stained red and it hurts to look at them. to get myself to function i have to squeeze so tight i can feel the strain in my head. and even#then its not enough. do u kno what its like to spend ur whole life building something only to watch it burn to ashes in front of u? just a#broken machine rotting away underground where no one will see it. but dont let things fester. speak up if somethings wrong. and say what?#lmao i wrote this last night and then today when my advisor was like: hows it going? do u feel like u have enough time to get everything#done? and i had the gall to be like *voice strained high to prevent crying* its alright i think ive got enough time. bc yea technically i#think there r enough hours in yhr day that if i really tried i could get it all done. but that doesn't count the time i spend laying with#thr absolute desolation of my mind. so no. there isnt enough time bc im not doing well. but there's nothing he can do abt it so ya kno#whats the point in talking abt it except to say ya sorry im such a wretched miserable person. i dont kno how to fix it. my enthusiasm is#hidden under layer upon layer of pain. i burnef out before even getting here and im only making it worse#but whatever ill see my therapist Tuesday#unrelated
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sammygender · 20 hours
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my other least fave spn take is ‘dean is essentially sam’s father’. because. well. he’s just not, though, is he? a nine year old being forced to raise a five year old doesn’t make the nine year old the five year olds dad. he’s just a traumatised parentified older brother.
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megafawna-permhiatus · 9 months
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on one hand(hoof) i am very grateful for my father accepting me being trans (for the most part) but on the other he can still fail so much in other areas of being a parent and husband. and its hard to compartmentalize that sometimes. im grateful for his acceptance because not everyone gets that but . . . it would be nice if he could work on himself at least a little. it's hard living with him a lot of the time 😵‍💫
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biracy · 1 year
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Not to like stir the pot or anything on here but are yall like regularly pouring your heart and soul into commission work
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intersex-support · 2 years
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Hi! I know this might be kind of a weird ask, but I just needed a space to talk about this and your blog appears to be safe.
So I have what has been diagnosed previously as PCOS. I'm seeking genetic testing for various reasons, but the symptoms are relatively consistent. Anyway.
One thing I never see talked about is how people with PCOS can and do face medical abuse and "correction". I was put unwillingly onto puberty blockers - ones not even intended as such, it was a common off-label use that came with potential long term side effects. I'm also trans, but didn't know it at the time. Had I known, I may have chosen puberty blockers, but it was still very much a nonconsensual attempt to "correct" my "precocious puberty".
Then as an adult, due to, well long story, but abuse from my mom, I was convinced to take estrogen-based birth control that in all likelihood contributed to my worsening dysphoria, to "manage" the huperandrogenism I'm now actively encouraging with low dose testosterone. Without constantly being told it's ugly, I love being hyperandrogenous! It makes me euphoric!
Related to this, I also got told I was appropriating intersex experiences for wanting my (already intersex body) to more closely match my being intersex. I admittedly said it poorly, in a way that made it seem like I was generalizing all intersex bodies into a common misconception, but I was trying to say that me being altersex (or another word, I've heard that term can be intersexist but don't have an alternative, if it is I'm happy to change the term I use) is a direct result of me being intergender/intergender (again, don't know which terminology to use, sorry!). I was accused of fetishizing intersex conditions by someone who admitted that PCOS should be considered one.
I don't actually know whether I had any coercive surgery in infancy due to a lot of crap with birthfamily and being removed at nine months and adopted at 14 months. But every other experience I've had has been (mostly perisex and a few bad faith gatekeeping intersex) people coercing me into fitting more neatly into a binary sex, often medically, and often with transphobia on top. I've had people deny that I can experience transness in multiple ways (I use transfem, transmasc, and transneutral/transandrogenous, particularly because I also am plural which just further complicates things.
I just... I wish people understood that I have faced many of the struggles typical to the intersex community. I have never experienced gender like a perisex person. I have always been cautious about speaking to my own experiences because I've tried to be aware of privilege where I have it and to uplift the voices of others with different experiences than mine, even where there are no dynamics of privilege/oppression.
Having people like you say "yes, people with PCOS can use the intersex label, we have shared experiences, you belong" has also been incredibly healing. It's like... I feel like people can often innately recognize when they have shared community in regards to innate identity. I felt drawn to the queer community before my gender/sexuality eggs cracked, for example. I feel like exclusion only hurts people because it- well, essentially is a form of gaslighting. "No, your experiences in this specific aspect are fundamentally so alien to ours that we couldn't possibly talk about commonalities in any meaningful way, and will deny you a belonging that is already yours." Does that make any sense?
I'm not perfect in the way I say things, so I do wanna say that I'm absolutely willing to be corrected if something I have said is harmful.
Just uh,,, thank you for listening to this long vent.
(In case I interact via anon in the future, can I sign off with "starry anon"?)
Hey, anon 💜
I'm so sorry that you've had to put up with so much judgment, abuse, and coercion from so many people and places that you expected to be safe. You did not deserve any of that. You have PCOS and hyperandrogenism, and you are intersex. You belong in intersex spaces and anyone who says you doesn't is being a complete asshole. There's so many reasons like you've listed here, where you have so many commonalities of experiences with other intersex people, and deserve to be able to find compassion and solidarity. I'm so sorry that you've faced medical abuse, and I think you're brave for speaking up about it and talking about the fact that intersex people with PCOS can and do face medical abuse. You are not alone in that, and it absolutely wasn't your fault.
You are intersex, and there is no way that you can appropriate your own experiences. I sort of do think that altersex is a label that's used in an intersexist way a lot of times and I personally tend to be uncomfortable with it, and I tend to stay away from altersex because of my issues with it. I think altersex is really only being used by people who aren't intersex, so I could see why people might have thought you were fetishizing or appropriating intersex experiences, as if you say you are altersex people are going to think you are saying you are dyadic. You can just say that you're intersex and intergender if that's language that makes you feel comfortable, although I'm not going to tell you what language is and isn't right for you to use--that's a personal choice.
I don't know you and your story and I'm also not going to tell you what ways of experiencing your gender and what labels are okay for you to use--I know that it can get very complicated when we're intersex and we're sometimes reassigned gender or sex in childhood, or at puberty, or undergo certain types of transition that's unexpected for our AGAB. I don't think that it's a free-for-all that any intersex person ever can just claim to be transmasc or transfem or both or that every single intersex person has a claim to every label, but my policy is to trust intersex people when they tell me their labels and trust that they know what the most accurate and affirming language is to use based on their own lived experiences. I think this is something that individual intersex people have to really think through and decide what labels are appropriate for them to use, and be thoughtful about what times we need to stay in our lane and when we follow our instincts. It does get complicated and my approach is to just trust that people know what labels are actually accurate to their life, and I only bring things up if it is an issue. If people are appropriating labels, if they don't have a certain type of lived experience but they are claiming that they do, if they are perpetuating oppression, then I will call people out and deal with whatever they are actually doing. I'm not going to tell you that you can't use labels or not when I don't know your life and story, or say whether you should be doing things or not, and just trust that you have thought through what is appropriate and what is right for you and listened to what the communities you are a part of are telling you.
Even though you did use altersex language, or if you were confused and couldn't figure out the best way to phrase things, you still are intersex and have an intersex body. And I completely understand wanting intersex affirming and gender affirming things to feel more comfortable in your body. I think that a lot of intersex people do have dysphoria and I know a lot of us who really have strong feelings about wanting to return to our natural intersex bodies before medical abuse, or returning to a version of ourselves that we were never allowed to be. I think that's something that makes so much sense, and even though I can see why people would react badly if they thought you were dyadic and using confusing language, know that you are not doing anything wrong by being intersex and having these feelings, and you cannot appropriate your own experiences. You belong in intersex community and are allowed to share your own experiences.
This blog is a safe space for you, anon, and feel free to share your story or come and vent if you need it.
💜💜💜
-Mod E
#asks#actuallyintersex#intersex#to clarify bc we've been having a lot of discussions on and offline about this lately#i don't think that every intersex person ever. can claim to be transmasc or transfem#like for instance i think it would be entirely inappropriate for me to claim to be transfem. i was afab raised female#and even though I went through medical abuse and hormonal conversion therapy#I don't think i live in any meaningful way as a transfem person. because i am a trans man#so im like in my case it would be weird if i started claiming i was transfem u know. bc im not#but i do think that with intersex people. birth asssignment gets tricky#i have a friend who was amab. but then was raised as a girl from the age of 5. and than at puberty transitioned back. and he considers#himself a trans man#so im like okay i think there are times where people's birth assignment doesn't line up with the dyadic birth assignment for a trans experi#so it does get complicated when you are intersex. or when you're intersex and like#you're transitioning one way. in a way that isn't usually expected of your birth assignment#and i dont' think i get to make all the rules for who is what. i think that would be silly#i think that's something that we all just need to think about what labels are right for us to use and what our experiences are#and if we think we're overstepping then we totally might be! if we think we belong in a certain community or certain label#and the community accepts us! that can also be true#so basiaclly long story short: i dont think that being intersex means that now you can just say that you r whatever trans label you feel#like. if you don't have the lived experiences#and i think it's good for us to be aware of that. but i do think its complicated#and that if you do have the lived experiences. if a certain label you use is right for you. im going to trust you#bc i am not in charge and dont feel like you know. telling people what they can and can't do
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ronanlynchbf · 8 months
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LITTLE KIDS TRULY THE EIGHTH WONDER OF THE WORLD <33333333 my niece talked abt her previous birthday today and started the story with "when i was young" like she isn't LITERALLY three (3) years old ⁉️ DJSKSKDKDSJSKD
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yikez · 1 year
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me : *constantly talks to him* *asks for advice* *shows him exams from other classes* *tries to get his attention* *tries to get him to compliment me* *vaguely tells him about my issues so he asks about it*
also me : surely he doesn't know i see him as a father figure 😋👍
#btw despite trying all this he doesn reciprocate#i mean kinda#i mean it's complicated#like i told him a guy in my class who is very right wing makes me uncomfortable because of the things he says#and when that guy called somone gay as an insult and called someone the r slur my teacher got realllyyyyy mad#cuz he knows I'm a lesbian and I've hinted at thinking i might be nd#and my friend who sits next to me is actually ND soooo that didn't fly well with my teacher and I'm so happy he said something#and he immediately looked at me after!!!! i was having a really bad day that day and it made it so much better#but like whenever i say something mean about myself#like not in a compliment fishing way but rather as a I'm insecure so it just comes out of my mouth way#he doesn't disagree#and i know as a teacher you generally shouldn't be the one person to therapize your student#but like a little don't say that about yourself would be great#also I'm like the best in his class but I'm a perfectionist because of that and i keep being 1 point away from full points#and like he just makes fun of me for it#i know he means it nicely and that's just his humor and why i like him in the first place#but I've never gotten a good job from him#maybe he's just not a complimenting type?? i wish he would say one single nice thing about me though#he DOES recommend me a bunch of stuff and we talk a lot and that's probably how he shows he cares#so I'm trying to get used to that instead of expecting words of affirmations#teacher crush community#tcc#father figure teachers
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joycrispy · 8 months
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I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.
Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."
Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.
Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.
Something like this:
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We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--
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--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.
But it turns out he was this:
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!!!
With his curly little--!!
And his neat white--!!
IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:
"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."
(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)
In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.
In sum...an innocent.
(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.
We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.
Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)
So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--
*checks notes*
--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.
...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.
All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?
He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.
That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...
...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.
Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."
And what reason does he give?
("I know you."
"You do not know me."
"I know the angel you were.")
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
("The angel you knew is not me."
But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)
tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.
'Innocence died screaming' and all that.
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a-tale-of-legends · 8 months
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Current writing the BW gangs relationship chart and I'm realizing an interesting parallel between Elliot and Cheren: They both end up becoming focused on becoming from for the sake of Alexis.
For Elliot, it's her trying and ultimately failing to change fate. It simply wasn't her and there's honestly nothing she could have done to prevent it. But she didn't know that at the time. She wanted to bring strong so Alexis' wouldn't have to suffer.
For Cheren, it simply adds to his desire for strength. He was there when Alexis' pokemon died. He saw it happen, he was right next to him. So now it's not only a means to become strong, but to become strong for Alexis.....at least that's what he tells himself. I think it is genuine, wanting to be strong so Alexis doesn't have to, but I also think it really feeds into his need for strength. His desire for greatness. As well as pointing out that Cheren isn't exactly thinking of himself here, what strength means to him. Why is he achieving it. Hopefully this makes sense and hopefully it isn't too ooc of Cheri here.
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english-history-trip · 11 months
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Ever see a depiction of St. George and the Dragon? It's pretty fair to say if you've seen one, you've seen them all: Georgie on a horse stabbing a flailing dragon creature, princess piously kneeling in the background, vague landscape alluding to the homeland of the artist's patron.
The most varied part is the dragons. No one had a real definition for the thing, it seemed. For your pleasure and entertainment, I have ranked some medieval depictions based on how impressive George's feat seems once you see the dragon.
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Paolo Uccello, 1456
This is a terrifying beast. The hell is that. Uccello was one of the first experimenters with perspective, so the thing also looks surreal, like it's taking place on Mars, or a Windows 95 screensaver. I would not want to fight that, I would not want to be tied to that. (Sometimes the princess is tied to the dragon for some reason.) 10/10
Horse thoughts: Maybe if I look at the ground it will be gone when I look up
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Unknown artist, c. 1505
This is a rare change of form for the dragon; it's the only one I've seen actually flying (or at least falling with style). It doesn't look particularly deterred by the spear through its throat, either. Also, George looks appropriately nervous. On the other hand, it hasn't got teeth, it seems to be fuzzy rather than having scaly armor, and George is bolstered by his army of Henry VII and his children, most of whom definitely didn't actually die in infancy. Still, wouldn't want to fight it, wouldn't want my pet sheep near it. (Sometimes the princess has a pet sheep for some reason.) 9/10
Horse thoughts: I am so glad I wore my mightiest feather helmet for this
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Raphael, 1505
We are coming to Dragons With Problems. This guy looks about comparable in size to George, and does have wings, but doesn't seem to be using these things to his advantage (and has he only got one wing?) And how does he deal with the neck? He does have a comically small head, but holding it up with such a twisty neck seems complicated at best. But most egregiously, he is doing the shitty superheroine pose where he is somehow simultaneously showcasing his chest and his butt, with its unnecessarily defined butthole (more on this later) (regrettably). 8/10 bc it's Raphael
Horse thoughts: AM I THE BESTEST BOI? AM I DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB? WE R DRAGON SLAYING BUDDIEZ
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The Beauchamp Hours, c. 1401
We had a spirited debate about this one at work. Again, the dragon has gotten smaller, and this one hasn't got even one wing. He's basically a crocodile. So the debate became: would you want to fight a crocodile if you had a horse and a pointy stick? Would the horse trample the animal, who can't get on its hind legs, or freak out and throw its rider? Would the pointy stick be enough to pierce the croc's thick hide? In this case, George seems to be controlling his horse and putting his pointy stick in the dragon's weak spot, so we can be impressed by his skill and strategy. However, his hat is dumb. 7/10
Horse thoughts: Dehhhh
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Book of Hours, c. 1480
Here we have the same kind of croco-dragon, but George's focus on his strategy has gone out the window. He's flailing around, not even looking at his target, he's about to lose his pointy stick, he hasn't got a hand on the reins, and his sword seems to only be poking the invisible dragon over his shoulder. All he's got going for him is that his hat is slightly less dumb. 6/10
Horse thoughts: Yay, new friend! Come play with me, new fr- what is happening
Final dragons put behind this Read More for your safety:
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Rogier van der Weyden, c. 1432
I'm thinking this guy is at least semi-aquatic. Webbed feet, wings that seem more like fins, bipedal but top-heavy, jaws that seem more for scooping than biting. Maybe she's crawled up here from the nearby body of water to lay her eggs, and this is all a big misunderstanding. Moreover, George's dagged sleeves seem entirely impractical for the situation. 5/10
Horse thoughts: i got my hed stuk in a jar and now it is this way forever
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Unknown artist, c. 15th century
I hate this. I hate everything about it. Why has it got human eyes and teeth. Why is its nose melting. Why has it got a dick on its face and balls under its chin. The fin/wings are back but they look even more useless. Also, George is shifty as hell, schlumped over in his saddle with his bowler hat thing over his eyes. The baby dragon at the bottom eating some hapless would-be rescuer is kind of metal. 4/10 at least the thing is gonna die
Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Crack
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Book of Hours, c. 1450
Remember what I said about the buttholes? First, sorry. Second, yeah, we're back to that. I'll admit this one is less about the danger from the dragon itself than the very specific choices the artist has made. They didn't need to do that. It's a lizard. They don't even have. And it's like they had an orifice budget and they skipped an exit wound for the spear to focus. Elsewhere. It's so detailed. And George had an even dumber hat. 2/10 take it away
Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Weed
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Book of Hours, c. 1415
This is just bullying. There isn't even a princess. That is clearly an infant. Look at that smug look on George's face as he swings his sword that's bigger than the whole little guy. This is the equivalent of when DJT Jr. hunted those sleeping endangered sheep. 1/10
Horse thoughts: ....yikes
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And this is the previous one, but now the baby dragon is cute. He's chubby. He's got toe beans. He's Puff the Magic Dragon. His eyes have already gone white, implying that George is just kicking its corpse around for funsies. What's the difference between the dragon and the lamb in the background? That the dragon is dead, like our innocence. This George is truly deserving of the dumbest hat of all. 0/10 plus one more butthole for the road
Horse thoughts: Perhaps it is we who are the buttholes.
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seattlesellie · 9 months
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e. williams — moonflower.
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pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
synopsis: it’s ellie’s birthday, and you have three gifts for her. a moonflower bouquet, the latest savage starlight, and a pin from joel. maybe, you even have a fourth one.
warnings: smut (mdni), established relationship, dom!ellie, sub!reader, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (r!), first time everything, loads of praise, loads of romance, cute little slaps, and as weird as it is to include this in these warnings; mentions of joel and ellie’s complicated relationship.
an: finally finished it. this is very very fluffy, as smutty as it may be. if you love flowers this one’s for you <3 i truly could have made this longer but i was super self conscious so i might post a little blurb instead!! constructive criticism and all comments n discussions are very much appreciated. thank you for being patient and sweet i love u 💗
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enveloped up in a baby blue ribbon, it sits pretty on top of your duvet. the latest edition of “savage starlight” — ellie’s favorite comics series, and a bouquet of flowers. when you picked them out just for her— forehead glistening under the radiant june sun, you noticed a singular flower that set itself apart from the others. blinding white, trumpet shaped— it’s lemon fragrance wafted through the thick air. it's petals were curled up, but you decided to keep it nevertheless. you’ve never seen one quite like it. when you brought it to your house, along with the fresh daisies and the garden roses, you noticed something bizarre, and oh so beautiful.
the odd flower bloomed underneath the moonlight that snuck itself inside the big window of your room. as the white petals unfurled, there you stood— awestruck.
⋆˙⟡♡
you decided to bring it over to louisa, the frail old lady who ran the jackson community garden.
“s’quite beautiful, isn’t it?” you told proudly, taking a whiff of the flowers creamy white petals. louisa ran her fingertips delicately over the flowers green stem, and just like you— louisa was awestruck.
“oh dear, it certainly is. how did you… manage to find it?” louisa probed, and your heart skipped a beat. your relationship with ellie was new, and fresh as a daisy. your face flushed, but you told louisa— your precious confidant, nevertheless. “ellie’s birthday’s coming up soon… so i, was picking up some flowers for her. s’not much, i know… but,” you scratched your arm, feeling extra timid. “i think ellie will like them. i… hope”
louisa smiled soft heartedly, the aged skin around the sides of her eyes folding itself and forming three little lines. somehow, it felt like the old lady knew more about you two than you did. “she’d be a fool not to”, she assured, and pressed tightly on your shoulder.
“i would have asked you if you were in love… but, no need to.”
“how come?”
“it simply shows, pumpkin’”
louisa sighed deeply, and began guiding you towards the humble old basement, where she stored all of her gardening books.
ipomoea alba, the tropical white morning-glory, jimsonweed, or for those of us who are a tad scatterbrained— moonflower. the moonflower, is the most romantic flower of all. it is dreamy, and mysterious, and it yearns for the warm embrace of the sun, but it also requires a cold caress of shade. it slumbers amidst the daylight, closing and hiding its delicate petals up, but during the night— it blooms, and it’s magnificent. as wispy and precious as the moonflower may be, the bloom may also be deadly.
it reminded you of her.
⋆˙⟡♡
ellie and you had numerous conversations about things that were… hypothetical. if you were a planet, which planet would you be?, if you were an animal, which one suits you best, would you say?, make it more specific, even— if you were a bug, what bug would you be? ellie told you were a butterfly, and that she would be a spider.
“don’t… spiders eat butterflies?” you probed, your head resting on top of her shoulder. it was a quiet, chilly night in jackson, and for some reason, being around ellie made you feel scorching. ellie huffed and chuckled, “yeah, think they do”
“well… that sucks” you noted, as a loose strand of ellie’s auburn hair tickled your cheek. ellie thought for a while, and then chuckled again. she did it quite a lot, chuckle to herself without saying a word. “i wouldn’t… eat you though. i’d… build a little web around you. protect you from the other spiders. you could be my personal butterfly… pet, thing”
you hummed, being caged in ellie’s spider web didn’t actually seem all that bad. in fact, it had a certain charm to it. but, wait… “wouldn’t being around me make you hungry?”
ellie’s breath caged in her throat.
it already does.
“guess i’d have to fight against my urges” she rasped, and you nodded.
if you were a butterfly, ellie would be the brave spider who protects you.
if you were a lily; who blooms during the daylight, the resurrection of spring, the goddess oestre, enlightened and wise, ellie was your missing piece. the moon to your sun, and the darkness to your light. the universe thrives because of it’s harmonious balance, and so do you.
⋆˙⟡♡
sugar, flour, cocoa powder, salt, two fresh eggs, a cup of milk, and one cane of sweet vanilla. the chocolate cake was damn near perfect. writing her name on the cake with a thick layer of vanilla icing was extremely precious and necessary to you. woefully, the can was nearing on empty, so— the cake read; “happy birth, el”
you impishly giggled to yourself. sounds like ellie’s going to give birth. with one more dip of your finger inside the rich ganache, you came to a firm and final conclusion— it was heavenly, the perfect balance of sweet and chochlaty bitterness. the secret ingredient that must have made it as amazing as it was, was the espresso powder you traded for a bargain. or maybe, maybe it was love.
“ugh, quit it. cheesy” you silently mumbled to yourself.
⋆˙⟡♡
the weather was hot, and the air felt thick. you always deemed it funny, ellie being a june baby and hating the heat. the town bustled with noise of chatter on a busy monday mornin’, and maria stood with her arms crossed against her chest in the corner. she seemed to be in the midst of scolding a guilty looking tommy, and next to them, were a handful of children giggling in the background.
balancing the chocolate cake, alongside with the gifts sitting inside the brown paper bag (with the pretty blue ribbon you clasped onto it), and the flower bouquet was hard. waddling around the town, on your way to ellie’s house, no wonder you nearly dropped it all on the floor when you bumped into a large man, that hit your front like a stone.
“oh— uh, easy there, kiddo”
you could recognize that rasp and that texas twang everywhere, even when your eyes were squinted, avoiding the rays of the sun.
joel.
you hastily managed to balance it all together again, apologizing profusely to the middle aged man— whomst you almost smashed the entire cake onto. he wore a black button up, it seemed… festive. huh. “headin’ to see ellie, i assume?” joel rasped.
you nodded and smiled politely. you’ve never been completely alone with joel, and most importantly, you’ve never talked to him about ellie. things between them were… complicated. you didn’t know why, and sometimes— you were too afraid to even ask. it all seemed too sensitive. ellie would nearly wince when his name was mentioned, and her eyes would fill with something that seemed like sorrow, or regret, or anger. usually, all of those emotions— all at once.
“that her gift?” he pointed towards the brown paper bag.
“mhm! savage starlight. s’the latest edition… i think”
joel smiled softly, and hummed in response. his eyes too, were filled with something that seemed to hold a droplet of sorrow and regret, but no anger though. different than ellie’s.
“she’s still into it, huh?”
“she’s obsessed” you giggled. truthfully, she had a good reason to be. savage stralight was fucking awesome, you grew to realize. it was even more awesome when she read it to you in the dark, cuddled up in her squeaky bed, holding a flashlight to illuminate the written words. when you dozed off, she’d continue reading out loud, maybe to herself, or maybe for your subconscious to absorb.
“i have… this, thing, uh—“ he shifted awkwardly, and began searching for something in his pockets. joel took it out, and showed it to you while holding it in his palm. the thing he mentioned, was a golden, diamond studded pin of the fallen apollo 1. it was beautiful, highly detailed, it’s unmistakable shine reflecting the rays of the sun.
“found it last week while i was patrollin’”
“it’s… woah” you marveled, running a delicate finger over the polished metal.
“is she… still into the space thing?” the stony man asked with a slightly shaky voice. something in you had to physically fight the urge to pull him into a warm hug.
“yeah… we… well, we went to look at the stars the other day”
joel placed the pin in your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. “could you give it to her? don’ gotta say it’s from me. tell her you found it”
you nearly choked up.
“joel… you should come with me”
joel sighed, and smiled softly again. joel wasn’t into smiling, but you made ellie smile, and that made joel smile.
“maybe next birthday, kid”
joel, just like louisa, knew ellie loved you before she did. and joel, saw his girl turn from a sulky, sullen teenager, to someone who looked like she had something, someone, to live for.
⋆˙⟡♡
12:00pm, and exactly three knocks on ellie’s wooden door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t filled with anxiousness. being anxious around ellie wasn’t a strange new feeling. you had butterflies swarming around your belly when she looked at you, had butterflies when she talked to you, especially when she used that one tone, when she got out of the shower with only a small towel wrapped around her glistening body, you had butterflies, or better yet— a painfully lage bee colony growing in your tummy. when she kissed you softly, the bees calmed down and were a little more subtle, you could imagine them having black oogly heart eyes— but when she kissed you roughly, forcefully against the wall (or against the concrete floor that one time), the bees buzzed uncontrollably, and somehow flew down to a lower part of your body. when she grabbed your waist and gave it a squeeze, as she ravished your mouth with her wet tongue, they went even lower and…
well, anyways— ellie made you nervous. handing her her gifts made you nervous and having her first birthday with you made you even more nervous. you were a fuzzy ball of nervousness and anticipation, and now ellie opened the door and you nearly dropped the cake on the ground.
again.
usually, ellie would greet you with a shy “hey”. exactly a week ago, she added a “babe” to it. (the belly bee colony buzzed and they were tremendously loud, you thought ellie could possibly hear them — so you had to hold on to your tummy) today, ellie greeted you with blown out eyes and a gasp. “oh…”
“happy birthday” you mumbled adorably as if it was a hushed little secret, too shy to look her in the eyes. ellie was too shy too, a coy smile painted on her lips, rosy cheeked, with her hands clamped in two fists inside her oversized grey sweater (it’s june, she would not let that hoodie go). her pupils were glued to the “happy birth, el” written in white icing.
when she felt bold enough to look you in the eyes after not speaking (just staring) for one whole minute, as soon as she caught your gaze— your orbs began dancing around everything you saw, purely avoiding her look but with a huge grin plastered on your sweet, overly excited face.
would it be stupid for ellie to tell you that she loved you right now? because it was getting incredibly hard not to.
instead of a (perhaps) misplaced i love you, ellie decided a pure “thank you” would be have to suffice. she held the door for you, and you shyly tiptoed in. when you placed the chocolate cake on top of the oakwood counter along with the paper bag, you felt ellie’s hands shyly creeping up to your waist, pulling you in a tight hug. “you really… really, shouldn’t have” she whispered. her voice was still groggy, lazy, raspy.
it was her morning voice.
funnily enough, this was your first time hearing it. you never stayed over past 2am— the night was dangerous in your eyes. the night meant going to sleep, it meant staying in her bed, and it meant sleeping with her inside of it. the idea of a night with ellie felt as if the bee colony in your stomach was about to erupt and explode and splatter everywhere.
“you know i don’t… celebrate these things” ellie rasped again, breaking you off from your idle thoughts. you placed your hand over hers, and giggled. “s’not a thing, el… it’s your birthday”, ellie hummed in agreement, and you continued. “besides, it’s an—“ she planted a soft, chaste kiss on your neck. it made you shudder and it made your voice break. “an… excuse to eat some cake”
“just cake?”, ellie sighed, her raspy voice tickling your cheek.
“mhm” you nodded, distracted as ever.
“whats in that paper bag then, huh?”
the flower only blooms during the night, and savage starlight was meant to be consumed with the help of a trusty ol’ flashlight, under a thick blanket. the sun was still out, so the moonflower slept. for the comics, you wouldn’t need a flashlight, and that would simply demolish all of the fun.
the sun was still out so unfortunately, ellie will have to sit and patiently wait.
you pull yourself out of her hug, and waltz away slowly. “well… paper bags for later”, you tilt your head, drawing out your words just to tease her and then some. “so, not gonna show you what’s in there”
ellie raises a brow, a slight half smirk creeping up on her face. saying ellie was a patient girl, would be similar to saying a cat doesn't walk on four. technically, it could… be biped, but— well, wouldn’t quite work. so similarly, patient and ellie couldn’t quite work either.
“you gonna say no to me on my birthday?” she jests, pulling her arms and crossing them over her grey hoodie ridden chest.
“oohh…” you nod twice, “so now you do celebrate these things?” you teasingly raise an eyebrow, mirroring her stance. ellie chuckles and it comes out from deep within her throat. she squints her eyes, “you’re such a tease”
she must not know one of the bee’s just stung the insides of your own stomach and dropped dead. or maybe it’s not dead yet, because you can still feel it’s erratic buzzing and the venom makes you feel as if you’re about to pass out.
“mhm… it’s okay, i’ll wait, babe” — there’s that babe again, and the little bee is definitely dead by now.
“can we eat the cake outside? s’nice, warm… we could do a picnic!” you chirp, each and every single one of your words laced with that syrupy sweetness that makes ellie melt.
ellie smiles and feels a little blush creeping up on the apples of her cheeks. “could do… whatever you want, it’s your cake” she states, and you roll your eyes at her sweet humility. “s’not my cake, it’s yours” you mutter serenely as you point towards the vanilla icing. “see? has your name on it and all”
ellie tries plunging a slender finger into the icing, a foolish attempt to taste it, but you slap it away, a faux pout forming on her face.
“can’t taste my own cake?”
“nope. outside” you speak, popping the p’.
“yes ma’am”
⋆˙⟡♡
you take a sip of the freshly squeezed lemonade, a droplet of sour and sweetness flowing down from the corner of your lips. ellie— propped up by her elbow, brings her thumb and wipes it away. “so messy” she jives playfully, putting the pad of her thumb in her mouth and joyfully sucks on it. she’s squinting her eyes, attempting to avoid the rays of the sun, and you giggle impishly. “can i finally taste my cake now?” she drawls.
impatient as ever, ellie doesn’t even bother pulling out the white plastic fork. instead, she shoves her hand into the cake and takes a big bite. her eyes shut as she devours it, humming at the taste. with her mouth full, she utters “happy birth, el, huh?”.
you breathlessly laugh and nudge her arm away so she almost falls on the checkered, red and white picnic blanket. “sounds like… mmh, fuck, this is good”, she licks her finger — “sounds like m’giving birth”
“i didn’t have any more icing left!” you raise your tone brightly. ellie looks you in the eyes and swallows a sly smirk. this time, it’s your turn to wipe some residue off the corner of her lips. you taste it, and god damn was she right— it’s finger lickin’ good.
“i think that like, when we have babies, you’d be the one to give birth… not my thing. don’t want some… little intruder in my stomach”
before you have time to answer, ellie bites the insides of her cheeks and feels like slapping herself in the face or burying herself 7 feet in the ground. she’s talking about having babies with you?!
she’d smack herself so hard right now if she could.
for you, however, it’s becoming insufferably hard not to start jumping up and down and ripping your hair off in excitement.
“let me get this straight…” you begin, and ellie’s convinced you’re about to tell her that she’s too much and leave. “an intruder, as you put it, can live inside my belly for nine whole months, but not inside yours?”
ellie has to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. “it’ll suit you, is all i’m sayin’”
ellie manages to eat half of the creamy chocolate cake all by herself. she was never one to have a big appetite, did you sneak something inside of the batter, perhaps?
maybe it’s love, ellie wonders. she scolds herself internally, quit being such a sap. it’s definitely the espresso powder her taste buds managed to pick up on.
laying face to face with her eyes closed, you manage to count some of her splattered freckles. one… two… fifteen…, some of them grew darker, tanner. ellie’s chest rises up and down, and you almost think she must have dozed off like a little kid having a post—dessert nap, until;
“hey” she whispers.
“hi” you whisper back.
ellie opens her eyes, a soft, lazy half smile adorning her face. she bites her bottom lip, “can i open my present now?”
impatient.
you shake your head softly. “nuh uh, sun’s still out. sorry, els”
she wants to scoff but she loves it when you call her by that little nickname. “but…” you look down shyly, reaching out for your pocket. “i ran into… joel, on my way here” you speak quietly, afraid of saying the wrong thing. ellie blinks twice, and clears her throat. taking it out of your pocket, you place the little precious pin in between ellie and you. ellie only looks at it, doesn’t touch. you can’t quite describe the expression on her face. surprised? dreadful?… doubtful, maybe, and a tad curious perhaps. “he wanted me to give you this… s’the fallen apollo eleven, i think”
ellie let’s out a quiet chuckle.
“apollo one”
she lifts herself up, taking the pin in her hand. her green eyes begin examining it, brushing her fingers on the golden metal. you sit quietly for a while, allowing ellie to be one with her thoughts. she doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, really. sorrow? regret? tears threaten to fill the brim of her eyes, so with her back to you, she sighs deeply and swallows them up. you bring your hand to lay a small caress on the small of her back, and ellie gazes to the side. she grabs your hand, and plants a small kiss on to your fingers. “ellie…” you silently whisper, and ellie sniffles.
“it’s alright, m’okay” she assures, and lays herself on top of the blanket again. her hand still holds your fingers, and you bring them around her thumb and squeeze. “thank you” she voices. before telling her that you’re not the one she should thank, a small tear flows down her cheek. you’d wipe it away, but ellie grabs your other hand and interlocks her fingers with yours. “sometimes it… fuck—“ she laughs, it occurss to both of you you’ve never quite seen her cry. “it’s okay” you comfort. keep going, you got her. ellie deeply sighs, “feels like i don’t deserve any of this”. the tear is hanging from her chin now, then flows down to her neck. you don’t ask her why, because now is not the time, but you’ll ask her one day. for now, all you do is assure her that she does. and for once in her life, she actually might start to believe it.
⋆˙⟡♡
apparently, chocolate cake, raspberry jam and some bubbly champagne (that you stole borrowed from the tipsy bison) can really get you two going. after hours of aimless giggling, tummies hurting from all of the fine delicacies, it’s time for your favourite past time— ellie and yours hypotheticals corner. naturally, with your head laying on top of her firm chest, you’re the one who starts. “okay, so… plants”, you gush. “mhm, so plants” ellie repeats, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your half covered shoulder. “which plant would i be?”
ellie thinks for a while— you two really take this seriously. she hums before responding, puffing some air from her nose. “chocolate plant, for sure”
interesting. you thought she’d say a certain flower, a delicate one, a soft one, one that blooms in the day. chocolate plant. “intersting… why chocolate? — ellie doesn’t quite know either. perhaps it’s because she loves chocolate and she loves you, and the champagne is making her feel giddy and silly and you’re her little chocolate bean, plant thing.
“cause it’s tasty” she responds, and you almost settle on that except… you seem to have an important anecdote you have a blinding urge to point out.
“well, it makes zero sense. you’ve never even tasted me”
that she hasn’t. yet.
ellie’s breath hitches inside her throat and she nearly chokes on her spit. do you know… what you’re doing? you muttered that sentence so innocently, so absentmindedly, and of course she hasn’t tasted you, but did that thought occur in your mind like it did in hers? you’re still smiling, patiently waiting for her response, and ellie can’t help but feel so… well, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. her cheeks however— light up in a shade of dusty pink.
“imagine if you like, ate me! i’d probably taste so…”
sweet? intoxicating?
“gross!” you exclaim, exaggerating and blowing your eyes out. ellie’s cheeks calm down a little, the pretty pink diminishing slowly. “thank god you’re not a cannibal…”
nah, she thinks she might be something worse.
slowly, ellie pushes her body closer to yours. you feel her faint breaths on the tip of your nose. “tickles…” you murmur, and ellie huffs out and smiles. it’s that smile she gives you before saying something. the way her eyes dart from your lips to your eyes… it makes you feel vulnerable, coy, and it’s as if she’s studying you, taking in your features one by one. perhaps, she loves seeing the way your eyelashes flutter like small butterfly wings when you feel her gaze on you.
“i have tasted you though” she rasps, her voice low and husky. her eyes are focused on your lips now, as hers slightly part, and then close up again. “you have?” you mumble, shy under her gaze. she hums, bringing the pad of her thumb to your lips again and pulling on your bottom one slightly. this time, you don’t have lemonade juice running down your chin. this time— the gesture is truly just for her. those lips… she thinks.
“you taste… good. and sweet, like…”, your lips curl up to a smile. “chocolate?” you complete. ellie hums again, her palm cupping your cheek. you feel warm, how are you always so warm? — even when you’re shivering cold, warmth is all she can feel.
“and vanilla… and coconut” she caresses your cheek with her thumb. you giggle, “you’ve never even had coconut”
“nah, but i can imagine…” — and oh, imagine she can. is this the champagne talking? it must be it, because that fizzling bubbly voice in her head would not let her go. funny, she doesn’t even feel drunk. “you taste sweet too” you state, nearly purring into her hand as she keeps delicately caressing your skin. she chuckles, “no i don’t” — and she’s right. she doesn’t taste sweet, in fact, she tastes minty and earthy and it makes you feel dizzy each time.
slowly, ellie gets her face even closer to yours. she sees your eyes twinkling, and she swears they shine brighter than every star she’s ever seen. back in the old times, nasa would have a field trip exploring your orbs. they might even find new galaxies in there, and ellie wishes she could explore each one. she really should have been an astronaut.
“ellie?” you quietly whisper. ellie nearly gets lost in the way you say her name, but responds to you nevertheless. “yeah babe?”
“can i taste you? to prove how… sweet you are?” — she knows you mean her lips, regardless, that dusty pink turns a deeper shade of crimson. she thinks it’s absolutely adorable, how you still feel the need to ask. however, she forgets that she asks you that question each time as well. can she… kiss you here? right below your ear? that feel good?
she doesn’t respond with words, but with actions. she cups your cheek harder now and with fervour, and she knows she needs to be romantic but she’s famished, so as soon as she feels your lips part— she plunges her tongue deep inside and you surrender to her domination. almost like a waltz, your tongues dance together, swirling around each other and tasting— and she still doesn’t taste all that sweet, but you do, and it makes her brain feel like mush. you whimper into her mouth and it almost sounds like your “els”, and she knows she needs to come out for air soon and break off the kiss but how can she? how can she when you’re so damn sweet?
her hand dips lower, placing itself on your throat, and she gives you that little squeeze (that she realised must have made you feel good, because you always had chills when she did and she could feel them), and this time— you really did whimper out her name. ellie groans, but you abruptly break the kiss, holding on to your stomach. she pants slightly, before releasing your throat from her grasp. “did i do something?“ she asks quietly.
thing is, she truly didn’t. in fact, it was that damn bee colony that did. she must have heard them buzzing and flying into each other and bumping into your stomachs walls and dip even lower and— “can you hear them?” you question— and you’re panicking slightly, she can tell.
“hear who?”, ellie looks around, but nobody’s there. intruders? clickers? you must have drank too much, but you really hadn’t so…
“it’s so fuckin’ stupid…” you whine, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ellie still thinks you must have heard something for real— and by all means, it is real, just not… like that. “hey” she encourages, placing her hand on the back of your neck. if she dares to even move it to the front of it, you’d panic again and be totally screwed. ellie notices you’re holding on to your lower stomach, “does it hurt?” she questions, worrisome.
“no… no, s’not that…” you voice, an octave higher than a whisper. “just when… when you kiss me? like, when you kiss me like that, you know?”, you hide your face again, and ellie’s worried sick— oh god, you hate it. you hate it when she kisses you.
you take a moment to gather your thoughts, you can explain this.
you breathe deeply, and ellie still holds the back of your head. “you know how people say… that you have… butterflies, when you’re around someone you like?”
“uh huh” ellie sighs. she gets it now. you don’t have those butterflies. you get sick when she kisses you, it makes your stomach hurt and you hate it and hate her and she knew you were too good for her and fuck.
“well, mine feel more like… well, they feel violent. it feels like i’m going to explode. i call them my bees, my bee colony, it’s so fucking stupid and i feel like they’re everywhere—“
oh.
ellie laughs (finally), breathlessly so, and she giggles and squeezes your body closer to hers and you continue to ramble, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her hoodie. she’s going to squeeze you so hard you might die, and you start banging your hands on her chest and you’re embarrassed, mortified at your little confession and the bees are so mad! they're calling for a conference call and you nearly explode.
“babe, babe—“ ellie calls out, forcing your head out of her neck and nearly begging you to look at her. you don’t though, you shut your eyes tight as she looks at you and thank god you do because she looks so amused but so enamoured she nearly doesn’t even want you to look.
“you wanna know what i have?” she probes, and you finally open one eye to take a peak. “no!”, and immediately— you shut it again. “i don’t have butterflies either” she calmly states, playfully pressing on your nose so you can huff out and look at her. when you do, you expect to see a smile— but instead, you’re faced with a serious expression, ellies eyebrows furrowing.
“i have wasps”
“wasps?” you doubt her quietly.
“mhm…” her lips part and she licks her bottom one before she speaks. “more like… tigers, or like, lions. way worse than yours. i mean, i’m in terrible condition”— she chuckles, and she just might be.
her words don’t comfort you, in fact, they make you buzz even louder.
doe eyed, you look up at her. “lions?”
“mhm” she nods. lions that might just tear you apart on the grass if you keep on looking at her like that.
this time, when she kisses you again— you don’t hold on to your stomach, you place your hand on hers. as the bees grow even louder, crashing into each other and ruining your slippery insides, you swear you can nearly hear her own lions roar alongside with your buzzing. she grabs your neck and squeezes it again, you nearly shriek, and ellie groans into your mouth and she’s the one to stop, but for an entirely different reason now. “inside?” she murmurs, staring at your glistening, kiss swollen lips and at the drool that runs on one corner. “please…” you whine, and ellie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. please…? she repeats in her mind— and oh fuck.
⋆˙⟡♡
so she takes you inside, your hand in hers.
with the chocolate cake and the bottle of champagne and it’s glasses far forgotten, the sweet raspberry jam slowly melting away, the chocolate cake growing into a chocolate… pudding, the ants are sure to come. how pitiful, that bees will always triumph over them, and the wasps— or the lions, well, they triumph over everything.
what ellie wants to do right now, is take you up to her bedroom and ravish you in all your glory, but you’re no forgetful fool. with everything else washed away, how dare you forget her presents?, her moonflowers?
“ellie!” you exclaim, squeezing on her hand. “it’s nighttime! your birthday presents…” you wiggle out your eyebrows.
shit— she nearly forgot, she’s pretty sure that if someone placed an actual living and breathing dinosaur in her living room she wouldn’t even notice because you keep on rendering her a distracted mess.
besides, its your own fault, because how do you do that? how do you go from driving her crazy and making her want to eat you on the grass, to making her heart flutter and burst inside of her chest the moment after? you’re a magician, a witch, what the fuck are you? not a fairy— that’s for sure, fairies are scary.
“so… you wanna open them up or not?”
she wants to open you up. no, no! bad ellie! that’s definitely the champagne still talking (it’s long gone.)
“fuck yeah”
you grab the paper bags (with the little blue ribbon), and drag her upstairs. you physically drag her, because for some reason, opening her presents is making her incredibly nervous. you expected her to be more eager, to snap the bag out of your hand as soon as you allowed her, but instead— she sits on the bed and just waits. she’s waiting for you to hand them out to her.
the nervousness seems to eat you up as well, tummy aching (still the bees, but also some normal excitement)— and as you hand her the bag, a few questions start to arise.
what if she hates it? what if she hates flowers? what if she’s allergic to the ipomea alba, what if she starts sneezing and coughing and dying?! or what if she already managed to get over savage starlight? (in a matter of two days…) what if the cake sucked and she was lying all along and you’d disappoint her and she dumps you and—
“HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!!!!!!” — she yelps, you didn’t even notice she opened the damn bag!
“this is…..” her eyes are bright and she smiles so big it nearly damn hurts the apples of her cheeks. “savage fucking star— fuck! s’the latest fucking one! how did you even manage to, fuck— gotta fuckin’ kiss you right now or i’d die”
ellie practically pounces on you, kissing you all over your face. cheeks— two kisses on each one, your nose, your forehead, your chin, both of your earlobes, “close your eyes, gotta kiss ‘em too”, your jaw, your neck…
“are you into me or something? cause it looks like you’re super into me, giving me this fuckin’ gift… dude. if you have feelings for me…”, she places her pointer and her middle finger on your chin and makes you look up at her. you stifle a giggle, “you gotta just tell me, might be into you too” she pecks your lip slowly and you instantly melt.
“we have to read it today… but only eight pages! gotta save it up”
she nearly buries her entire face in the comic book pages. she sniffs, “shit… even smells new” — a layer of fine dust adorns it, so you know it doesn’t.
“rented it from the library!” you chirp, the concept of libraries being one you merely only read about.
“there’s… something else in there too…” you begin. for some reason, giving her those flowers you picked makes you even more nervous. she curiously looks up at you. “there's more?”
you bend down to grab the paper bag off of the wooden floor. the moonflowers’ petals opened up, and there you were— awestruck again. “you can’t give me more things… it’s too much i don’t…” deserve it? you know she thinks so. regardless, she looks up at you adoringly, as your hand tremors and you lift the flowers out of the brown paper bag. you look at them, trying to decide if maybe you were just being delusional, maybe they’re not nearly as pretty as you thought they were when you came across them for the first time. perhaps they’re…
“woah…” ellie gazes at them, wide eyed. she doesn’t even know the meaning of them but yet she is nothing but mesmerised. “wh… what flower is this?” she asks, running her fingers on their dark green stems. when she reaches their creamy white petals, she moves her fingers even more delicately. caressing it, her knee nudges yours.
“moonflower” you reply silently, watching ellie’s digits adoring the bloom. “it’s… it’s really pretty”
you take a deep breath. “i picked it up cause… it reminds me of you”, you exhale, fiddling with your fingers. when she notices, she puts her hand, the one with the flowers in it— on top of yours. the room is quiet, except for ellie’s shallow breaths.
“it um… well… first of all, it’s beautiful, like you”, you flush, and ellie flushes as well. she swallows deeply, and involuntarily, a small “fuck” escapes from her throat.
“and… they’re not supposed to grow in jackson. it was purely by accident, so they’re special… like you, and uh… well, they only bloom during the night, which is why i waited. they’re strong, and they’re deadly, i mean— the venom is… so don’t… eat it, i guess.” you chuckle, and you barely even notice two fat tears streaming down your cheeks. “they remind me of you because they’re the prettiest flowers ive ever seen, and when i saw them… i was kinda of like… woah, just like what happened when i saw you for the first time, remember?” — ellie sniffles, and ellie’s crying. “so… you’re my moonflower”
ellie doesn’t know what to do. she looks up, covering her face with her hands. she wipes away a stupid tear, and then wipes away your precious one.
one whole minute passes.
“if i ever…” she begins, swallowing hard. “if i ever lose you? i think i might die” — because the moonflower needs sun to live, and you’re her sun, her lifeline.
you take her face in between your shaky palms. ellie’s lips hold a slight tremor, and then she laughs.
“i’m in love with you”
you don’t have to say it back. you really don’t, because again — actions speak louder than words. your soft lips meet her slightly chapped ones, and ellie hums into the kiss. different than the one before, this one is gentle, dim, the lust hasn’t disappeared— it’s still there, but it has something more to it, not diminishing it, just hovering above. could you guess what it is?
“i love y…” you whisper out, attempting to break the kiss, just if you could simply say this one thing, but ellie knows, she knows. she pulls you by the back of your neck more forcefully now, deepening the kiss. because you couldn’t finish your sentence, you pout— but ellie suckles on your bottom lip and wipes your silly pout away. her hand goes lower, from the back of your head to hold on to your waist, and she squeezes the covered flesh. you moan into the kiss, tasting her spit and her tongue, and oh god— the bees. you think you might have just another precious gift for her. one she’s been waiting for, one she’s been fantasising about, one that you’ve been fantasising about. when you moan into the kiss, ellie breaks it. she’s staring you down, panting again. “think i… have… one more gift” you whisper, and ellie— her lips parted, nods once. “one more?” she rasps, squeezing your waist again and pulling you up to straddle her. “mhm”, you hiccup as you feel yourself snugly pressed up against her.
she places one hand on your thigh, simply caressing it back and forth. the more up she goes, the more your breaths become uneven and so do her’s. it’s not entirely an unfamiliar territory— you've been seated on her lap a few times before (seven, but whos counting? she is), but this is… different. “whats your gift, huh?” she teases. you? are you going to be her gift? you always have been…
you whine when she traces small circles with her slender fingers on your clothed inner thighs. you whine and it makes ellie throb— you’ve never quite made that noise before, and she yearns to pull every single noise you could possibly make out of you. a whimper, a moan, god— a scream. she feels like she’s about to explode and christ, you’re still fully clothed.
like a hunter examining it’s prey, ellie moves her face forwards, and then downwards, towards your neck. she places a few chaste kisses, “ah! tickles…” ellie chuckles darkly, yearning to “tickle” you once more. she plants two more delicate, tickling kisses before suckling on the flesh. at first, her tongue meets your skin and she laps up at it. then, her teeth bite into it, and you nearly jump. “sorry… that hurt?” she asks, and really, she’s not sorry at all. “feels…” ellie cuts you off and sucks again. this time, she’s determined to leave a mark. “oh… feels…” you continue, shuddering in her arms like glass. she hasn’t even touched you, not really, and yet everything feels damp. your face, from your tears and from her tears and from spit, to the flesh of your neck that’s being sucked on and played with, down to the small wet patch inside your panties that you’d be mortified if she noticed.
when she finishes the assault on your neck, she moves up to your lips again and grunts when she sees how your lips were already parted, just for her. the kiss is slow, wet, her tongue kitten licking your own. it’s nasty, really, wet smacking and sucking noises filling the air. almost involuntarily, your hips start moving and grinding up against her thigh. ellie moans deeply. “mmph… yeah?” she teases, or at least tries to, because her voice is shaky and turned on to the max. she helps you move slightly, and my god she needs to take your pants off and feel your naked heat against her like this. when she thinks about what it must be like for you— she imagines your fat pussy lips squished up inside your panties, grinding on her thigh and she nearly loses it. she wants to help you grind harder… could she make you cum just from that? cum inside your pants whilst using her thigh? “fuuuck”, ellie groans and lifts her hand up, nearly smacking your ass but it ends up just landing on her own leg.
“s’not fair… what you’re doing…” she murmurs in your ear, “what did… what did i do?” you respond back, your voice high and needy. ellie doesn’t even know what she meant to say. all she knows is that it’s not fair. it’s not fair how you make her react and feel like this, the way your eyes glisten isn’t fair, the way you grind up on her thigh and make those sounds isn’t fair, the way you make her feel sticky and mushy and wet — without even taking your clothes off, isn’t fair.
still moving with fervour on top of her legs, her hand is dangerously close to where you need her the most. she nearly cups it, flips you over and ravishes you whole, but she stops herself. “can i please… take your fuckin’…” she rasps, running her short fingernails on your sides. she’s not scratching, but it’s not an entirely gentle movement either. she doesn’t know where to start, should she ask you to take your top off? your pants? — maybe she should just ask you to go completely naked. she settles on the little top, however.
you lift the fabric up slowly, but you do it out of nerves. as much as ellie wants it off, she lets you take it slow. you peel it off, exposing your skin inch by inch— do you even know how bad you’re teasing her right now? “ah, fuck” ellie groans out. when the shirt meets the top of your head, it gets stuck there for a second. you giggle nervously, your lacey bra on full display, and ellie considers just leaving you there to struggle by yourself. if your eyes are covered by the material, maybe you won’t notice how hard she’s staring. “need some help there, babe?” she teases as she leans back on her elbows. your laugh is muffled, and ellie chuckles. how are you so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? after ten whole seconds of struggling, ellie lifts it up for you. “there, good girl… wasn’t that hard, right? just needed my help?” she teases, and god is she mean— that little twinkle in her now much darker green eyes making you feel like your ears are about to melt off.
swiftly, ellie begins planting soft kisses all over your collarbones. her hand isn’t touching your breasts quite yet, but it’s hovering on top of them, and then you realize— she’s waiting for your approval, for your yes. you put your hands around her neck and push her forward, which makes her hands land on top of your breasts. ellie moans as soon as she feels them, and even though they’re covered by fabric — the lace is thin and she can feel your hardening nipples. she runs her thumb over the swollen buds and you shiver. “knew you’d be sensitive…” she murmurs to herself against your skin. “what did… uh, what did you say?”, you stutter, and then she looks up at you. “said…” she flicks it and you buck your hips. “fuck… knew you’d be sensitive”
she knew… you’d be? “you’ve, uh… thought about this before?” — and ellie chuckles, fully laughs nearly. if you only knew how many times she’s thought about this you’d probably crumble like a danish biscuit. “too many times” ellie confesses, and she almost gets too embarrassed to admit, but she swears she can feel a little wet patch on her jeans so she knows you must have thought about this as well, perhaps more than she has — but not likely. “i have too” you murmur shyly, and there it is.
“oh, really?” she asks, kissing right in between of your tits and making you jolt. if her lips feel this good on your chest… your eyes roll back to the top of your head. “so you’re just as filthy, huh?”, her right hand lands on your ass with the smallest smack, she knows she could make it hurt if she wanted to (and she does), but not yet. you jump and squeal, and in a random burst of confidence — “m’filthier…” you whisper.
with that, ellie grunts and takes your tits in her palms, she kneads the swollen flesh, pushing both of your breasts together and kisses right between the formed cleavage. “bet you’re filthier…” she whispers, opens her mouth so her tongue can stick out and lick between your cleavage line. when she does so, she brings her hand to your back and unclasps your bra with just her two fingers. she lets it cascade down, and she notices how shy you get, trying to bring your hands to cover yourself up. ellie is faster than you, and grabs both of your wrists so you can’t. you’re fully exposed, and ellie’s all pants and heavy breaths. when you try to wiggle yourself out of her grip, your tits move and bounce in the slightest, and ellie’s in trance. “you’re so… fuckin’ pretty” she takes your hard nipple in her mouth and you wince as soon as you feel her pink muscles wetness. “that feel good huh?” she takes your other breast in her hand and toys with it, palms it and making it shake.
with hungry kisses, she lays you down on her bed. you buck your hips forward, and ellie parts your legs with her own. she runs her hands all over your body, and before kissing you again, she stops. “els?” you ask, but ellie ignores you. ellie takes her top off, and fuck you’re nearly drooling. she wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her pretty pink nipples are just as hard as yours. you’re staring, and it’s ellie’s turn to go shy. “you like… ‘em?” she giggles, “shit, nevermind”
you don’t expect it, but ellie grabs the brown paper bag and pulls the moonflower bouquet out of it. “wh… what are you doing?”
“don’t worry about it” — she places the flowers on your chest. for some reason, your ears start to burn. “hold ‘em like that for me?” she asks, and you do. with ellie straddling you, it almost looks like she’s about to pull out a camera and take a picture. “perfect…” she murmurs, “feels like i marked you. s’over for you, you’re mine, y’know that?”
you think you’ve always known. “yours” you whisper coyly, giving her that toothy grin that makes her melt into a puddle. she leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose. “yours who?” she kisses your cheek, and then below it, and then on your jaw. “yours… ellie” — and she must be smiling, because you can feel her lips curl up on your skin.
she kisses you everywhere, on every scar, every blemish, sometimes she bites, but then soothes it with her tongue. you’re growing impatient, the pressure down your panties becoming insufferable. before she unbuttons your pants, she unbuttons her’s. she pulls them down, to sit right below her boxers covered ass. she comes up again, kissing on your tummy, and then — she puts her ear to it. “m’hearing them…” she murmurs. “they're… talking to me, the bees are begging me to fuc—“
“ellie!” you call out, embarrassed. you try and muffle your giggles with your hand but it’s all for nothing, because when she pulls your pants down you gasp. she takes a moment to stare, she could just stare at you forever, she thinks. ellie toys with the waistband of your panties, running her pointer finger on the line. she’s breathing heavy, and you’re nearly wheezing. she bends down to kiss your sopping covered cunt, “oh fu— wait!” you call out.
“i’m… i feel, i’m too shy i can’t…”, ellie smiles and kisses it again. she knows you are. “feels like i might—“ you cry out, feels like you might what?
“explode!”
“you might… but i got you, yeah?” ellie coos, and this time, she doesn’t kiss it, she runs her tongue along the wet patch. she wiggles it from side to side and fuck, she can taste you already and she thinks she might be addicted. your thighs tense and they involuntarily wrap around ellie’s head. she chuckles, and parts them apart. to soothe you, she runs her fingers on your inner thighs and caresses you gently. she kisses your clothed clit and she swears she just felt it pump. “awh… yeah?” she coos again, and it feel like she’s talking to your pussy and not to you. you whimper and drop your head back, and she sucks on it. she’s making the fabric grow nearly sheer with her tongue, and when she sees the outline of your pussy lips she moans deeply. “so wet…” she murmurs to herself, “this all for me, huh? did i do something?” she looks up at you, and your eyes are tightly shut, not even in a place where you feel like you can talk.
you’re fuzzy everywhere.
“can you answer me?” she warns, but chuckles when she sees your back arching as soon as she pulls your soaking wet panties to the side. you hum, “all f— for you”, but ellie doesn’t even hear it, because she’s faced with the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
your glistening folds, the tiny swollen button on top, and your hole practically clenching in and out over nothing and she thinks she might just die. she spits on it with a small “ptu”, watches as her warm saliva cascades down from your clit to your inviting hole. when you clench, your hole absorbs some of her spit and she groans deeply. “fuck that’s cute”
you’re panting, a sweet harmony of “please, ellie!” escaping your lips, and when you accidentally muttered a pathetic, squeaky “puhleaseee!” ellie scratched the idea of slowly, butterfly kissing your cunt till you’re begging and began placing an open mouthed kiss on it.
as her tongue meets your clit for the first time, you clutch your thighs around her head. it happens twice before she forces them open, “quit that, gotta see you” — she warns, and you listen because you just do. “look at me” she instructs, her voice muffled by your sweet pussy in her mouth. her tongue laps up the wetness from your hole, brings it to the top of your clit and sucks. ellie hums, she was right — you really are fuckin’ sweet. “so good…” she murmurs, “doin’ such a good job”, truly, you aren’t even doing anything, just squirming and whimpering under her touch. she moves her tongue around and you swear you just felt her spell something with it, “ellie!” you cry, and ellie’s breath hitches down her throat so she comes out for air and spits on your cunt again. she rubs the wetness with her fingers, then separates your pussy lips with her thumbs so she can see all of you.
you’re just like a flower, she thinks. slowly, she places her tongue on your clit again, but with her fingers on it still, she begins toying with your tight hole. she merely teases it, probing your entrance with her ring finger. “gonna put it inside, that okay?” she asks, but you’re unresponsive, a blabbering mess who doesn’t even remember her own name. ellie chuckles, she could probably do anything she wanted. she slips it inside, feeling your gummy walls squeezing her in, and she moans right when you do. “oh… gosh, ellie!”
“so fuckin’ tight” she whispers, returning her mouth on your clit and suckles deeply. she adds a second finger and now you’re gone, fully consumed by this filthy, pleasure filled monster. “i think m’gonna!” you cry and ellie whimpers out, nearly going cross eyed when she notices you’re toying with your nipples just like she did. “explode?” she breathlessly says. “c… cum!”
“good fuckin’…” she wants to complete that sentence, but instead her tongue dips lower and her hands push your thighs so your knees are pushed up against your chest. it goes even lower, licking your tightest entrance, the one that’s never been explored, not even by your own hands, and when she flicks her tongue upon it and then immediately goes back to your swollen clit you’re—
“cum’… m’cumming! m’cumming!” and yeah you are, ellie thinks, and slaps one of your thighs. you're jolting when you do, her name leaving your mouth like a prayer, and pray as much as you want but heaven will not be the one that accepts you, perhaps it’ll be purgatory, but with her in it it’s more than perfect. “uh huh… cum for me”
when you do, you see stars, and ellie sees moonflowers.
she laps up your saccharine juices, sucking them off her fingers one by one. you’re feeling faint, buzzing everywhere, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. ellie looks up at you, eyelids half shut. when you see the index finger that was deep inside of you just a moment ago, go inside her mouth, her pouty pink lips around them and she’s lapping it up and she’s greedy— you cringe a little. she’s tasting and tasting and humming, “told you… you’re sweet”
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astrologydayz · 6 months
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ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES🔞 - NATAL CHART3
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Venus in 12th house, or 5th/8th house ruler in 12th house can get into "love" affairs while being on vacations/retreats/In foreign countries/while they're in a hospital/psych ward, and even in prison
Mars square/quincunx MC makes u so damn fine! U can carry yourself a bit "rougher" tho/look unapproachable = "people being intimidated by u", & u being a little "what the fuck u staring at", and we love it💋🤣. People with Venus conjunct/trine/quintile Eros asteroid - 433) r really sexual individuals. But they most of the time need a "personal connection" of some kind, before jumping in2 bed with someone. They ooze sexual confidence tho, because they know what they want&need sexually🤤🫦. Casanova asteroid - 7328) in Libra/7th house/aspecting Jupiter can “stray" away from their partner, quite easily. They can quickly find somebody else, that they find more "fascinating". They get bored fast! But this mostly applies 2men tho💻📓.
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Inner planets in earth signs = very sexual beings, so idk what the fuck people r on about. We just don't fuck the 1st John we c on the street🤷‍♀️. Really picky when choosing a sexual/romantic partner, and we also need 2 know that you're trustworthy 1st. But when you finally pull through, we'll show u what freaky means😘.
Scorpio Mars in/8th/12 house in a MAN'S chart can go 4 hourssss 😵‍💫😵‍💫🫠🫠. Unless Mars is afflicted by other planets, like Saturn, or Jupiter. Saturn ruled people got piercings almost always - body/head/genitals🫦👅). Saturn rules piercings, (restriction, and Steel). Add a little pain 2 the mix, &😍.
Pluto conjunct Mars in a MAN'S chart = some serious sex appeal. They're so fucking smooth2, and have no problem with showing their dominant side. They can easily steal yo girl⚠🍆🔮. Everyone wants a piece💦🙄🤣👄.
Venus/Mars/Pluto in 3rd house likes 2 talk during sex. "U like that baby?" "tell me how much u want it", "yeah I like it, when u got your mouth full🍆🍑". They also get off on how much u can "out smart them" - Book smart or Street smart, either way🧏🤭🤓.
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Sun opposite Black Moon Lilith can look for sexual partners that looks, or reminds them of their dad🤷‍♀️(Daddy issues).
Funny how people say that Mars/Venus in 8th/8th house in Scorpio people gets more interested, if u make us jealous??? I will literally erase u🫠🧐. If we wanted to share a person, we would have gone 2 a strip club instead.
Venus square Jupiter does not mean that the individual is "addicted 2 sex", unless anything else shows so.
Jupiter in 9th house/Jupiter aspecting 9th house can show that u have big hips/big thighs/long legs💛👅.
Asteroid Varuna (20000) conjunct/trine your 7th house means that your sexual partners makes u famous, "worldwide attention" because of who u date/have close relationships with✨. If it's in Gemini (example), then u could date famous singers, actors, motivational speakers, things like that.
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POF conjunct 5th house can cause the individual 2 be very experienced in the department of love, by the end of their lives. They've dated a lot of different people most of the time, and have had all kinds of relationships - polyamorous with some, monogamous with others - examples.
Records asteroid - 30718) conjunct/opposite Mars in a MAN'S chart, can show that he "enchants" people (usually worldwide) with his sex appeal🤤🫠. The opposition shows a "complication", when it comes 2 this = wanting 2 break records for your talent/s/work, & not only4sex appeal👽.
U don't have 2 have Venus/Mars aspecting each other 2 be fine af/gain a lot of attraction from others bc of your looks/sex appeal. Look at Zac Efron - when he was young, Jungkook - BTS, Tupac🤤, Jackson Wang, Hyunjin from Skz, Rihanna, Marilyn, Austin Butler, Justin Bieber - I don't think he's hot, but some people do - I could keep going.
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Women with Mars/Venus conjunct/in 8th house = typically sexually attracted2 "misunderstood individuals" - "someone who's bad, &only good4her" kind of thing. She needs an EVERYTHING BUDDY! A loyal lover/best friend/partner in crime! someone who will never doubt her, but challenge her/someone who brings a healthy amount of “competition"/sexy bantering. She also want someone who's REALLY ready2dominate the fuck out of her, bc she's so used2 dominating people on a daily basis💁‍♀️.
Eros - (433) conjunct 11th house = being sexually attracted 2friends/finding fwb relationships 2be the perfect "arrangement"🎉💃.
Mars conjunct/trine "Dominiona" asteroid - 24899) in a MAN'S chart = a VERY sexually dominant man😤👅. "Big daddy takes little daddy energy" - they can command 10 men like that🤌. Won't let anyone try2run up on em, at any time🫠🤤. Masters at dominating "brats"2, they'll put yo ass in place babe💋.
Venus quincunx Eros asteroid - 433) shows us that an individual typically feels like they're not as sexually "appealing" as people say they r/they won't believe others words. They won't "realise" that they're sexy as hell! They let their insecurities speak4them a lot. But once they start getting that “self assurance/self confidence” = they'll quickly realise that they're the shit, when it comes 2 "seducing" - "enticing" others❤️🍒.
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THANKS4READING!!!
APPRECIATE U, ALWAYS💋
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sytoran · 10 months
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𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐄 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟐
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the aftermath of your mindblowingly hot sex with the goddess of lust, natasha romanoff. as it turns out, no one escapes the consequences of their actions.
pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!fem!reader (G!P)
note: once again, howdy, folks! this is the even longer-awaited part 2 to the goddess!nat fic! i am terribly sorry for the wait, hopefully this long chapter will satisfy your needs :)
word count: 3.0k
series m.list | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3
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Previously...
You, a regular law-abiding citizen, saved the gods by accident. The Goddess of Lust, Natasha, granted you one wish as a repayment. You could've had just about anything, but turns out all you need is right in front of you.
Spoiler: It ends up in mindblowingly hot sex with a certain Goddess.
Now, two months later...
"Baby…" Nataha sighs, her eyelids fluttering close as you move under her sheets. 
Or, more specifically, as your tongue moves in her cunt.
There's just something about giving the Goddess of Lust the best head of a lifetime that does it for you. Maybe it's her stupidly sexy moans, or the way she twisted her delicate hands into your hair, or maybe just how sweet she tasted.
Or, maybe, it's the knowledge that you're the only one who can ever make her feel like this.
"Please, oh, fuck," Natasha whines, as you move your tongue in tight little circles against her sweet spot. Not quick enough to make her cum, slow enough to make her feel.
"Oh," she whimpers, hearing the lewd sounds of you eating out her soaked pussy on a Saturday morning. You shift under the blankets, breathing hard as it gets warm.
Worshiping the Goddess as you rightfully should was perhaps your favourite pastime, driving her wild with your fingers and your tongue and your cock.
Which is exactly what you felt throbbing in your pants when a hushed whimper of 'Daddy' falls from Natasha's sweet mouth. Your head spins at the title, just like the first time she had ever called you that.
It was half by accident, really.
On a private rented beach in Malibu, with miles and miles of space and no one else, there you laid under the shade of a palm tree, thrusting into the Goddess with a youthful vigor.
"Oh, you feel so good," Natasha cries, scratching her long nails down your bare back. She shakes with each of your thrusts, melting into your touch like your forgotten ice cream in the Malibu sun.
"Do I?" You tease dangerously, both of your orgasms dangling close to occurrence. "Mhm- Oh, yeah," Natasha responds with a lewd moan, moving her hand down to play with her clit.
That's all the extra simulation the Goddess needs before she's tumbling over the edge, clutching onto you as pound into her cunt.
"Oh, I- Oh, please, daddy!" Natasha shrieks when you harshly pinch her nipple with your free hand. It does wonders for her pleasure.
But as soon as those words fall from the Goddess' lips, she retracts like she's been scorned. You halt your movements.
"Did you just call me daddy?" You ask with a raised eyebrow, as Natasha looks away flusteredly.
"...No."
"Darling."
"No! I mean, well yes, but I didn't mean to!" She tries to move under your grasp, her cheeks turning an incarnadine pink.
You take her wrists and pin them above her head with one hand, and use the other to still her moving hips. The Goddess pouts at you, but you know better than to give in.
"Has the Goddess of Lust never called anyone 'daddy'?" You ask seriously, trying to make sense of her seemingly unorthodox shame.
"It's complicated." Natasha states, squirmimg under your inspective look. She trails her hands down to your cock again, but you deny her of that pleasure. "We're not done here, sweetheart."
"Fine," Natasha grumbles. "That's the first time I've ever called it out, like, in the heat of the moment. I'm always the one doing the seduction and the flirting, so I call my partner that if I think they'd be into it. It's never been… spontaneous, I guess."
"Oh," you say softly, tracing her rib with a ginger finger. "I think I quite like it."
"You do?"
"Mhm."
"Okay, daddy."
"Shut up, sweetheart."
"Make me."
What pulls you out of that blissful reverie is Natasha's whine. You're not in Malibu anymore, you're under Natasha's sheets. 
Even then, you've never felt more fulfilled with this glorious woman by your side.
"Why'd you stop?" Natasha asks, pulling the blanket away so she can see you.
You shake your head, pressing a kiss onto her inner thigh. "Thinking."
"About?"
"You."
"Oh," the Goddess replies, evidently flustered. 
"What were you thinking of?" she then says, flirtatiously. She adds on the charm of batted eyelashes, prepared for whatever you might do to her body.
What Natasha wasn't prepared for, however, was the tenderness in which you regarded her with, a serene smile and a warm glow on your face.
"What is it?" Natasha says, laughing awkwardly as you litter kisses all over her stomach. You're glowing, sickly-sweet and dumbstruck.
"I love you," you whisper. "I love you, Natasha Romanoff. I love you not because you are the Goddess of Lust but because you have the most brilliant heart I've ever had the chance to feel. I love you for everything that you are, everything that you're not. I love you for your bed hair, and your goofy jokes, and your brilliant green eyes I could melt into a thousand times. I love you boundlessly, across the worlds that divide us. And you don't have to say it back, but just know-"
You take in a deep breath, not realizing that you've spoken so much with quavering breaths like you'd die if you didn't profess your love. Like you'd die if you didn't bare your heart to Natasha. You gulp for air, stroke her face. "Just know I love you. So much. So, so, so much."
Oh.
There's silence, afterwards, like the world has stumbled on its axis and the stars have collided. 
Natasha looks at you with an indescribable feeling, like her heart wants to burst out of their seams. It's only when you gently stroke her face that Natasha realizes there are tears on her face. 
Why's she crying? Why do you cradle her in your arms with such a ginger tenderness? What did she ever do to deserve this kind of love?
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed it," you mumble, almost ashamed. You press another kiss on her bare stomach as an apology. "I'm-"
"No, I- Fuck, I love you too." The Goddess voices hoarsely, her shaky tone a far cry from what should be expected of a regal Goddess. "I love you too," she says again, with more confidence, almost as if it would make the words even truer.
That stupid smile is back on your face again, even wider than before. Your cheeks hurt and Natasha's heart melts. 
"You love me?" you ask earnestly, and there's such an innocence and genuineness to your question that Natasha almost cries again.
The impact of 'I love you' sinks in. Natasha feels.
She's never felt like this before. She's never loved like this before.
Finally, in the sacred silence, Natasha whispers. Scared to ruin the moment. Scared to tarnish what could be.
"To every universe and back," the Goddess answers, and your world starts orbiting again.
Ever since that fateful day of your love confession, the two of you were inseparable. You would look at Natasha with such wonder in your eyes, wonder what you ever did to deserve this, but the Goddess would look at you the same way, and you knew everything would be fine.
She would take you to any universe you liked, across any dimension. From earth-bound lands to intergalactic islands to space. It was as vast as her love for you.
But, you were riding that high with no heed for the consequences of your actions. 
You were foolish enough to stay with Natasha, dumb enough to drown out the warning signs, blindsided by the prospect of loving a Goddess.
You should've known, from the start, that you and Natasha were a race against time.
You should've known that it would end up in flames for you.
You should've known better.
Since the very day she was born the Goddess of Lust, Natasha had her life laid in front of her.
To exploit that thrall she was given, to seduce men and the occasional woman, to live above and beyond because she was a Goddess.
That had been her life for over decades, sitting comfortably at the top of the chain on a gold throne; Toying with hearts like it was a daytime hobby, then shattering them like glass. 
She slept around for the hell of it, just because she could. Just because she was the Goddess of Lust.
Then came along a stupidly charming attorney with a coffee stain on her suit and the most unusual request.
Just like that, her world stopped revolving around what she was supposed to do, and it started orbiting around you.
And, you, were definitely not what Natasha was supposed to do.
Despite how incredible you were in bed. Despite the plethora of orgasms you had brought her to. Despite how she felt her walls to her heart tumbling down around you.
When the two of you shared that passionate confession of love in bed on that fateful Saturday morning, the Goddess knew she was done for.
Which is exactly why she's currently under the scrutiny of Supreme Headquarters: Intervention of Extraterrestrial Liabilities Directorate, aka SHIELD, aka she's completely and utterly fucked.
SHIELD was essentially the Gods and Goddeses' version of a monarchy, that was infamous for its cruel ruling and cutthroat decisions.
"You're a smart girl, Natasha, and never would I have expected something so childishly foolish to fall from your lips."
The Goddess stood in defiance. Despite all her power and her status, she seemed so small in the wide hall, paling in comparison to the mighty Gods that surrounded her.
That previous statement had been made by none other than Wanda, the Goddess of Magic. The woman was a stature of power and composure in her throne, hand poised under her chin like it was a medieval painting.
"I'm not a girl," Natasha snapped at the Goddess, fire behind her eyes. "And I'm very capable of making my own decisions, despite how foolish they may seem in your condescending point of view."
The Goddess of Magic was irritatingly unfazed by Natasha's outburst, flicking that poised hand and in a dismissive wave. God, Natasha wanted to crush that stupid hand.
"Steve, talk some sense into her. I can't bear to hear any more of her senseless arguments." Wanda said offhandedly, looking over to the God of Justice for support.
Natasha wants to retort that she isn't just spewing senseless arguments, but a warning look from the God of Justice shut her up. Of everyone in SHIELD, he was the most likely to give her a fair hearing. Hence his name.
"Natasha, we're not saying that you're incapable of making your own decisions." The blonde man reassures, pressing his hands together in contemplation. Natasha breathes harder than she should be doing.
"We're saying that what you're doing isn't the best," Steve continues, and Natasha is grateful that the eyes are not on her anymore. The God of Justice had a presence that simply demanded respect, an impeccable aura that no one would dare deflect.
"Sleeping with someone not godly is one thing, but entering a romantic relationship with a mortal, a human being, is simply…"
"Unacceptable."
Natasha intakes a short gush of air harshly at the interruption. It's Thor, God of Thunder. For a God who had lived centuries, he was painfully traditional. Narrow-minded, even.
Thor's loud, booming voice carried throughout the hall, from his electric-blue throne at the far corner. Mjolnir, his trusty hammer, was held in his big hands with a firm grasp. Natasha forced herself not to feel threatened.
Thor continued, firm and hard and oh so unforgiving. "Do you want to end up like my brother, Goddess Natasha?" 
At that, the entire hall was silenced. The only thing Natasha could hear was her own sporadic breathing.
Everyone, undoubtedly, knew the story of Thor's brother.
Loki, the God of Mischief. The fallen angel, some said. The devil's incarnate, others whispered.
He had used his power for wrong, abused his status to commit the darkest things imaginable. It wasn't before he was banished from the land of Gods, never to be seen again.
Some say he's still clawing his way out of hell. Some say he's destined for a lifetime of hurt.
"Don't you fucking dare compare me to him, Thor," Natasha growls, and the larger blonde man even seems taken aback by the ferocity behind Natasha's words.
"I- I think what Thor is trying to say," Bruce frantically cuts in, in an attempt to mediate the situation. 
The God of Science was a bespectacled man with quirky mannerisms, ever the peacemaker. Logic, to him, was most important of all.
"Is that you, Nat, are a Goddess," Bruce continues. "An all-powerful being that transcends the laws of space and time. You have been blessed with such power, such strength, unfathomable to lesser beings. And Y/N L/N, this earth-bound creature who lives and breathes on the very ground we carved, couldn't possibly be who you want to run off with. I mean, we- you, you're so much more than that."
"You're going to love her, Nat? Give her your heart? You, an immortal being? She's going to die some day, inevitably, and then what will be left of you? A broken, desolate mess, grieving for the rest of eternity?"
Natasha swallows harshly. She wanted to despise Bruce, hate his reasonings and refute his logic – but she couldn't, could she? He was right. Bruce was right.
But there was a part in her heart that screamed, yelled, kicked - she couldn't give you up, now. Not when she'd finally found what she's been searching for. Not when she can feel again.
Not when she's found the love of her goddamned life.
"I'm on Nat's side," Tony says, mouth full of a pink-frosted donut, slicing through the tensed silence. He spews crumbs as he talks, but Natasha doesn't think she's ever been more grateful for the man. 
Tony was the God of Heroes. Brilliant but brash, proud yet arrogant, charismatic and eccentric. He was a God no one could explain in few words, and for that Natasha was immensely grateful he understood.
"True love cannot be broken," Tony says, folding his arms. "It transcends all else, goes beyond our social status and our physical capabilities and who we are as individuals. If Nat has truly found it, then who are we to judge? It shouldn't be criticized, it should be celebrated!"
Natasha locks eyes with Tony, in silent thanks. The two of them may butt heads at times due to their self-righteous natures, but in the end they were always there for each other.
However, the rest of the Gods didn't seem to quite agree. There was quiet murmuring amongst themselves until Steve began speaking again.
"Let's settle this with a vote. If majority wins, Natasha will be able to continue her pursuit of a romantic relationship with the human and mortal Y/N L/N. If not, Natasha will be forced to cut off all ties with said mortal and they are to never see each other again."
The Goddess of Lust felt her heart clench. Of course Steve would choose the fairest way to determine Natasha’s fate. Of course this would result in a losing battle for her, based on the prior reactions. 
“All those in favour of the disallowance of Natasha Romanoff’s and Y/N L/N’s romantic, physical or any other relations, please raise your hand.” 
Thoughts of you swam in Natasha’s mind, of you smiling while kissing her hand, stroking her hair while she fell asleep, trailing kisses up her spine on sinful nights.
Thor’s hand went up first. 
“I love you boundlessly, across the worlds that divide us.” That was what you had said that Saturday morning, with a serene smile, so gentle it caressed Natasha’s heart. She remembers the warm glow of the sun, the temptations of paradise, the falsehood of the promised land.
Wanda follows suit.
How could Natasha have let it all succumb to this? Why had she let herself grow so soft and malleable around you? The walls around her heart she had spent so long constructing was so easily taken down by you. You, who wormed your way in and made a nest in the center of her universe.
The next hand that goes up is Bruce’s, albeit with an uneasy look from the man, like he didn’t want to be there anymore.
Maybe she shouldn’t have dived headfirst into love with you, professing her feelings so vulnerably. She was the Goddess of Lust, not Romance or any of that bullshit. A long-lasting relationship had been a childish fantasy, much less for someone who was meant to constantly seduce.
Like a final seal of her demise, Steve’s hand goes up, and only then does Natasha realize the tears that have fallen from the corners of her eyes.
There is a deafening silence that follows the grounding decision, and even Tony doesn’t look so aloof anymore. He’s the only one at the table who didn’t raise his hand. 
Natasha swallows harshly, in an attempt to calm the building pressure within her.
She swallows again, willing the tears in her eyes to go away - no way in hell would she openly cry in front of the Gods who put her in this situation.
This time, she wishes the ground would swallow her up instead, to whisk her away from this nightmare of a reality and wake up beside you once more.
“You have until sunset to settle things,” Steve says, a painful lack of emotion in his eyes. “If you don’t coincide by the rules, you know what consequences you will have to face.”
For the first time in an eternity, ever since unknown creatures roamed the multiverse and there was no difference between dark and light, the Goddess felt helpless. 
Even then, there was only one thing on her mind.
How the fuck was she going to tell you that ‘To every universe and back’ had been a bloody lie?
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ok i’m literally so tired while posting this ‘cos i just got out of a seven-hour flight like yesterday, but i reallyyy wanted to post this because i haven’t posted anything in so long. anyways I HOPE YOU LIKE THE LORE and just a recap for everyone before part 3: 
anyways it’s all set up for more angst and hardcore smut (yes i promise that is in part 3)
natasha - goddess of lust
carol - goddess of galaxies
wanda - goddess of magic
steve - god of justice
thor - god of thunder
bruce - god of science
tony - god of heroes
y/n - basic bitch
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luveline · 1 month
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jade my heart I’m really feeling Peter parker tonight in this chilis. maybe just Pete listening to r go on about something she likes? Like a book or a tv show and he’s just listening but also so obsessed with her and thinks she’s adorable? I love u! 🫶🏻
ily ty for requesting <3 fem
“It’s a prequel, you know?” 
Peter feels fondness for you pretty much every second of the day, but the way you’re asking without looking at him, and the way you’re laying across his lap so unbothered, he finds himself grinning like a mad man. “I did not know that,” he says. 
You nod up and down with a severe sort of look about you, as though this is of the utmost importance. If Peter doesn’t get on the same page as you soon, he’s not gonna make it. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen the first trilogy. Like, I like you so much, but where the hell have you been?” 
“Where have I been?” he wonders. 
“Anyways, that’s not the point, sorry. They’re complicated movies. You’d like them, though. Next time I’ll bring my DVD’s and we can watch them, if you want to, you’ll really like them, or you’ll really like Natalie Portman, at least. She’s beautiful. And her character is so… complicated, I guess, she’s doomed from the beginning of the narrative and she’s the catalyst for so much but she’s also just… sorry, I’m being totally boring.” 
“Says who?” 
Doesn’t take much more than that to get you rolling again, you want to tell him that badly, “I don’t wanna spoil it anymore because I really think you’ll love them if you watch them, but you’re gonna need to watch the first trilogy to get the emotional impact, and you’ll love them, don’t worry.” 
“I’ll love them,” he agrees, attempting to lean down for a kiss. 
“Wait, is this a shut me up kiss?” you whisper. 
Peter shakes his head as he kisses you, serving for a wobbly but soft press of your lips to his. “Never. Tell me everything about it.” 
You talk until you’re hoarse, literally hoarse, and Peter has to make you a cup of water. His cheeks are hurting from smiling at you. You’ve never looked this cute, not once, not even when he took you to Coney Island and you screamed the house down on all the rides. 
“I think we better go and get those DVDs,” he says. 
“It’s dark out,” you say. 
“We’ll swing.” 
“Isn’t that against your code of ethics?” You sip your drink, pointing at him. “We’ll hear someone who needs help on the way and you’ll drop my extended editions to save them.” 
“I won’t drop anything,” he says. “Come on! Come on, if you’re this excited just talking about it I wanna see how pretty you are when we’re actually watching the movies.” 
You press your smile into a line. “You’re not just humouring me?” 
“I could listen to you talk for hours, baby, but you sound like you did the second time we got off of The Cyclone.” 
You do a spinning, meandering dance into his arms. “If you insist.” 
Your feigned reluctance is adorable. He grabs you in both hands for another misaligned kiss.
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whorediaries-09 · 24 days
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I’ve been thinking alotttt about rivals! Remy where him and r have been hooking up but the r starts gaining feelings for rem and distants herself but rem is just like “what the hell?” And then they like admit their feelings when rem corners her one day curious😩
i'm sorry this took so long, but i hope you like this!!
friends;
pairing- remus lupin x reader warning(s)- cigarettes, alludes to sex, hurt/comfort. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- academic rivals to lovers is so precious to me you don't understand.
little train
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' girl, I'm not with it, I'm way too far gone i'm not ready, eyes heavy now,'
'i can't believe i've to work with your pathetic ass,' he rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. your eyes wandered over to the burn marks on them, probably from all the joints he smoked. you could hear his friends laughing behind his back. even peter, the quietest and the most tolerable of the lot, was laughing. you scowled, tilting your head to meet his eyes,
'i don't remember you saying that last night. you said i've a perfect ass. maybe you have a problem of short term memory loss?' in an instant, you saw his cheeks reddening and eyes widening comically when he registered your words. his hand slapped upon your mouth, trying to shut you up.
he received a flying paper ball on his head. he turned his head around to find sirius waving his index finger at him
'not in class, moony.' he said, as peter tried not to laugh. he was measuring the ingredients written on the blackboard.
'hello my lovely students!' slughorn's overly cheery voice rang throughout the classroom. the class sang him a dull good morning. it was winter after all, most of the students wanted nothing but to snuggle up in bed within the folds of their cozy blankets drinking hot chocolate. the only energetic person was sirius, and he sang,
'good morning sluggy!' slughorn knitted his eyebrows together at the nickname but didn't say anything.
'good morning, mr. black. i see you've preferred to follow the rules for once and sit on the desk assigned to you.' sirius shrugged his shoulders, batting his eyelashes.
'you and i, we're the best matchmakers, mr. slughorn. we're a team,' what he meant, the saints knew. perhaps that would be taking a step too far, because by the slight smirk on slughorn's face, he knew what sirius meant.
'mr. black, i prefer the student and professor dynamics between us better,' he replied, scratching his eyebrow with his fingernail. sirius groaned mockingly.
'okay class, settle down. we're making amortentia today.' raising your hand, you questioned,
'the love potion?'
'yes, exactly the love potion. of course no magic is as powerful to be able to imitate real love. however, it does create a powerful infatuation, with the person who gave it to the drinker. the scent varies based on what the person likes. it's a very complicated potion to make, but anyone who makes the perf-'
his speech was interrupted by a famished lily evans who was as red as her hair and a grinning james potter. her tie was loose, dangling off her collar and his hair was ruffled. lily's usually nicely ironed uniform was full of wrinkles.
'oh wow! head boy and head girl late to class!' slughorn scowled. by the look on his face, however, he was regretting his choice to let the ever infatuated james potter and the stubborn lily evans sit together.
'just sit down the both of you!' he scolded and they entered the classroom, lily's bag almost spilling parchment and ink bottles. slughorn coughed and continued,
'so as i was saying, who ever makes the perfect love potion gets-' he put his hand into his pocket, pulling out a little bottle full of a clear liquid. '-this. can anyone tell me what this is?'
'felix felicis.' sirius said. further words conversation wasn't recorded by your mind when remus bent down, whispering in your ear,
'do you think they hooked up?' you eyes widened as you looked at him. your eyes unconsciously travelled down to his chapped lips. the taste still remained on your tongue.
'do you like- actually think before speaking? james potter and lily evans hooking up! lily would rather die, he hates the guy.' remus shrugged his shoulder, a small smirk on his lips.
'i mean, look at us, we hate each other but the other day you wouldn't let me stop eating you out-'
'oh please shut up! just get the fucking ingredients!' he smiled, as you try to hide your face with you hair, suddenly very intrigued by your book.
'okay madam,' he said, mock saluting.
*-
after a lot of banter and distractions you ended up with a potion which only looked seconds away from an explosion. there was certainly no 'mother of pearl' sheen or any rising steam in a characteristic spiral. even pearl dust couldn't save the disaster of a potion.
'oh god why did i have to work with you!' you gripped your hair with your fingers, almost pulling them off as you sat down on the chair, chewing on your lip.
'my grades will go down!' you snapped. he turned around, a wince on his face.
'so will mine. this shit is team work and if your grades go down, so will mine.' he stated. you rolled your eyes as he sat down beside you, his palm on your shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.
'i shouldn't be comforting my academic rival but guess if you low, i go lower.' your ears perked up at the term. 'academic rival.' he didn't even consider you a friend. that's all you were to him, an academic rival, a benchmark to cross, a quick fuck when he was tired. you gulped slowly. suddenly, your throat felt very dry. you stared into his eyes, trying to decipher something, but trust god to give remus lupin the most dead eyes known to mankind.
'ohhh! we have a winner!' slughorn's voice pulled you from your thoughts. your head snapped to the source of commotion, expecting to find lily to be the winner- but it was sirius.
'mr. black, this felix felicis is yours,' he threw a charming grin to all the flushed young ladies and lads as his fingers wrapped around the little bottle. most of the girls and boys almost swooned at his antics, and some could be found a few seconds from fainting when he winked.
'get it padfoot!' james cheered. lily disapprovingly hit james' head with her book. james scowled.
'i want everybody to come and tell me what they smell in here. let's start with mr. black,' he smiled, staring at the eager faces of the young ladies and lads who surrounded him as if he was a trophy.
'i smell petrol, rain and my favorite tea. i can also smell..uh cherry flavored shampoo, and my cologne.' it was nothing very interesting. neither of them used cherry shampoo. and it wasn't just a flying rumor that sirius black rode a motorcycle.
'ah, good, good.' slughorn praised, patting his back. his eyes wandered about in the room before they stopped at your direction.
'okay yes, now you,' he said, instructing you to smell the potion. internally you called him an old cow. externally you smiled, a little more than actually required, and too fake to be a real smile. no comments were passed when you walked up to the front of the classroom, smelling the potion.
'ah- so i smell parchment, ink, coffee, vanilla....cigarettes and dark chocolate.' you stumbled upon your words when you found remus looking at you intently. you tried to ignore the burning gaze and how the blood rushed into your cheeks. slughorn coughed slightly,
'okay, now next student!' he clapped his hands together, trying to cut through the sudden tension in the room. you moved away from the smoking cauldron, walking towards your chair. sitting down, you pondered.
cigarettes? damn you, you hated cigarettes! you'd been reluctant to try one for the first time, but trust remus to roll you the perfect blunt and manipulate you to try it in the best way possible. you remembered coughing up the smoke onto his face.
dark chocolate? sure you enjoyed it here and there but it wasn't certainly something you loved. you wanted to rip out your hair.
the realization had been lingering upon your head from the last few weeks, but you didn't want to act upon it. a lot of people mistake lust for love. you were a teenager high on hormones, hooking up with remus lupin, your biggest academic rival- of course you were bound to mistake lust for life.
perhaps the heated kisses within the shadows of dark nights, the way his hands lingered upon your body, making you feel alive as he touched you down to your core, the heat crawling under your skin, dizzying your mind, the way he begged to touch you, to feel you meant more than just lust. perhaps it was closeted love. but it didn't mean good news. having a crush was fine, but falling for remus john lupin was bad news. it meant heartbreak, a new rumor for the nosy students of hogwarts.
so you did the best thing that came in your mind to maintain your feelings and keep your heart in control. it wouldn't be very effective, considering remus was your partner in potions for the year, but you'd try your best. no hooking up, just necessary conversations. all you had to do was ignore him. the less you saw him, the better.
*-
remus looked up to your face, his sweaty strands of hair sticking onto his forehead. his calloused hands gripped your waist as he thrust his hips upwards. you bent down, brushing his lips against yours. you held down his hands, pinning them above his head. he tried to crane his neck to kiss your lips, but you didn't allow him holding his hands tighter.
slowly, torturously slow you started rotating your hips. he arched his back, moaning your name, his fingers trying to grasp the fabric of the head board.
'god, you feel so fucking good,' he moaned. you smirked, your tongue swiping over your teeth.
'i know,'
suddenly, his face started to distort, and he started laughing at you. weird, that is not how you remembered that night. he was jerking you, before everything went hazy and your vision started blackening and you saw a tunnel of light. you tried to grasp onto the light, escaping the booming sound of his laughter.
it was a fucking dream. you rubbed your eyes, pushing your face into the pillow, silencing your scream, so as to not wake up the others. you hated how pathetic it made you feel. how did it happen?
within the spills of ink on parchment paper and a constant comparison, how could have your feelings changed like this. perhaps you thought of him too much. you were supposed to ignore him. in the typical sense you were, but your mind or heart wasn't ready to go.
you were standing on the edge of a fucking knife, wondering if remus lupin even considered you to be a friend. you hated yourself for falling for him. it wasn't supposed to be more than sex, a quick relief from the constant shambles of your lives, yet here you were, in the middle of the night thinking of the one you were supposed to hate.
slipping your feet into the cozy bunny slippers, you grabbed your thickest jumper. you couldn't sleep, so you might as well take a walk. james and lily were on duty, but you were sure they weren't being as responsible as they were supposed to be.
*-
it was cold. the snow that settled on the grounds was thick and milky white. the cold wind bit your skin, prickling it with goosebumps. you felt a lump in your throat thicken, and your eyes burn. you felt your heart drop. you blamed yourself for the situation you were in. it was your fault, utterly. you weren't supposed to fall for him.
even the stars couldn't calm you down with their serene rays. you dropped your head into your palms, letting the tears fall down your cheeks, sobbing silently.
'talking a walk alone at night now are we?' a voice quietly creeped up behind your back. you wiped your cheeks quickly, mentally preparing yourself to being caught by a prefect and getting your house points deducted. when you turned around, however, you were met with the amber eyes of the one you'd been thinking about. your tongue was tied in knots as you watched him drop james' invisibility cloak on the floor and walk towards you. you backed away, until your back hit the wall and there was nowhere to go.
'r-remus-' he raised an eyebrow, capturing you against the wall, his hand pressed against the wall. he leaned down, his finger crawling under your jaw and tilting your head to meet his burning amber like gaze.
'have you been crying?' he asked. you stared at him, tongue twisted in knots. but you knew it was no use lying to him. he could read you like a book.
'yes,' you nodded. he tilted an eyebrow.
'why?'
'why does it fucking matter remus? leave me alone- i'm not even your fucking friend.'
'then what are we? you've been ignoring me for the past few days, and now you're running away when i've finally got you alone.'
'nice try, lupin. you don't give a shit, so just let me go.'
'oh so you're going to decide whether i give a shit about you or not? what if i tell you i do?'
'you won't mean it.'
'i will. i've never lied to you,' he said. there was a bitter sadness in his eyes. you could see the darkness in his gaze, and even if he naturally had dead eyes, you could see a tiny ray of warmth in his gaze.
'please.' he said, letting you go. 'just tell me what's wrong. tell me what i've done. tell me how i can fix it. just...please don't ignore me.' he begged. slowly gulping, you pondered whether it was the correct moment to speak out your heart. perhaps it wasn't, but he could right through the lies. and while you had a lot of explanations hidden in your head, you could only whisper one line,
'i'm in love with you, remus,' he stared at you intently, letting your words hang before he could act upon them. you expected screaming, cussing...laughter. you didn't expect a soft gaze as he smiled at you. he slipped his finger under you jaw, tilting your head.
'i don't think you ignore the one's you're in love with,' you screwed your eyes shut, biting your lip. the blood warmly travelled to your cheeks,
'you don't feel the same, i was scared.'
'and how exactly do you know that?' you opened your eyes, to find him staring at you in utter glee.
'i've been yours before you touched me. all it took was spilled ink on my essay, sweetheart.'
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