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#for gods sake what happened to boundaries
windvexer · 20 hours
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Using tarot to read on magical events in your own practice: quick theory, new card meanings, and spread ideas
this post is OC based on my personal tarot practice; the examples given are hypothetical for the sake of this post.
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Well-meaning guy: "If you think that event was a bad omen, why not read tarot to clarify?"
Person who learned tarot from popular online resources and introspection-focused art decks: "I drew the 6/Cups, so I guess my ward falling off the wall is about my inner child?"
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Tarot meanings change and evolve over time. Historical meanings are often not the same, or even contrary to, modern meanings. (Consider, 6/Pentacles: the French present moment was misinterpreted to mean presents, gifts).
By acknowledging that many modern meanings available for tarot cards are modern interpretations for modern concerns, many of which have fuckall to do with witchcraft, we can also acknowledge that we can apply our own sets of meanings to tarot to achieve personal interpretations in pursuit of personal goals.
I call this concept symbol sets, and you can apply your own symbol sets to certain tarot readings in order to rapidly obtain information about magical events in your life.
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Symbol sets can be swapped out for each reading. You can intend to operate on your "normal meanings" for a typical reading, and then intend to operate with "magical omen meanings" for another reading.
There are no such things as universal tarot card meanings; there are some traditional meanings, some historical meanings, and many modern meanings. Adjust what each card means to you to your heart's delight.
The more symbol sets I've developed and practiced with, the more versatile and accurate my tarot reading has become. Working with custom symbol sets might be the single biggest leap in my reading ability in 16 years of practice. At least, it feels that way!
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Quick n' Dirty Symbol Set for Magical Omens, Appropriate for Everyday Use
1. Apply general portents to each suit which matches your magical practice.
Here is one set that could be suitable to troubleshooting potentially magic events:
Swords, or Air: Misfortune, betrayal, malefica, ill-intent, adversity, due to harmful (even if unintentional) spirit action, pointless or wasted effort. Sometimes, banishing, binding and hexes.
Wands, or Fire: A lot of power, excessive power, due to your own actions, uncontained energy, something you did was very much overdone. Sometimes, protection and empowerment.
Pentacles, or Earth: Mundane, physical and normal reasons, an everyday occurrence, mundane but natural growth and change. Sometimes, unlocking and unblocking.
Cups, or Water: Blessings, magic working as intended (even if unexpectedly), the normal course of magical events, magical growth and change. Sometimes, cleansing and purifying.
Major Arcana: Guiding spirits and gods; their behaviors, guidance, or messages.
A spirit worker might like to add an additional layer of complexity, which modifies the prior set:
Court Cards: The actions of another being, such as a practitioner, god, or spirit, whether they acted intentionally to bring about the event or not.
(Further breakdown, as an example: Swords courts are beings intentionally acting badly; Wands courts are the most important spirits of your path; Pentacles courts are mundane folk or spirits unrelated to your path; Water courts are other practitioners, or spirits related to your path without being in your "inner court.")
Interpret any card drawn within these principles. Here are a few random examples. Let's say, a money spell has failed to produce results, and we'd like to know why.
5/Cups [disappointment, failure]: This is the normal course of magical events; the spell wasn't cast well, and so nothing is happening.
9/Wands [determination, boundaries]: A lot of energy was raised, but incorrectly targeted or released; the energy is cooped up.
Judgment [judgment]: An important spirit in your path wants you to deal with what you have been avoiding, and will interfere with your magic until you face them.
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Spread Ideas
"What's going on with that thing?" | 3 cards
Card 1: The source or cause
Card 2: The current state of affairs
Card 3: Suggested action
Example; the money jar doesn't work: Card 1, King/Swords: The source of failure was the person in the discord server who promised to curse you for not feeling the same way about Destiel as they did. Card 2, Page/Pentacles: The current state of affairs is that as a symptom of the curse, an unaware person or spirit is blocking the prosperity you seek. Card 3, Queen/Cups: Ask a benevolent spirit or helpful practitioner friend to assist you in unblocking the situation.
Determining responsibility | 2 cards
Card 1: Why this thing happened
Card 2: Why it didn't happen; one thing that wasn't the cause at all
Example; the ward fell off the wall: Card 1, 10/Pentacles: This happened because of random happenstance in the home; it was not a magical event. Card 2, Ace/Swords: This action was unrelated to malefica or bad spirits or things like that.
Foresight Before Acting | 4 cards
Card 1: The current state of affairs
Card 2: The outcome of your intended plan of action
Card 3: Recommended plan of action
Card 4: The outcome of the recommended plan
Example; the spirits did not seem to appear during a spirit petition spell: Card 1, 3/Wands: Sufficient energy was raised to attract the attention of spirits, but they may not have been properly called to action. Card 2, 6/Swords: Your plan to call the spirits back and re-cast the spell is a fruitless attempt at a transition into a new plan. Card 3, Empress: Communicate with your primary goddess or powerful spirit of the earth and obtain input and guidance. Card 4, Magician: This plan will result in obtaining important magical information about this type of summoning spell you are trying to achieve.
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volitioncheck · 2 months
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i think i wouldn’t hate disco elysium’s collage mode nearly as much if it weren’t for 1) the way that it was marketed in such a tasteless, soulless manner, let alone the fact that it was a last ditch distraction from a dead on its feet studio piloted by dumbass thieving execs and released on the day of the court declaration, and 2) those dumbass fucking stickers
like if it had been included with the base game from the start and had been titled something a bit more tasteful and in-line with how i would have liked the feature to be marketed as— something like “exploration mode”, something that perhaps could only be unlocked after completing the game for the first time, AND didn’t have those stupid as hell visually and tonally incongruent with the artstyle stickers, i would have applauded it as a nice little bonus for being able to study and appreciate the 3d models and environments for reference.
#it is just so bleak man.#i have no words left to say for the latest development at zaum studios so instead i will just remember how fucked up this was lol#those stickers are the same energy as that dumbass fucking christmas card they put on steam.#cutesy fanart is awesome and all but don’t muddy the tone of the actual source with it. why is that necessary.#for gods sake what happened to boundaries#again i probably would take a different tone to even the stickers if#it had been done under the original creators (which i don’t think it would have‚ which is my point‚ but say hypothetically it happened)#but with the circumstances the way they are it is impossible to not view it all as tainted with a veneer of absolute tastelessness#and a disrespect to the source material and a sorry attempt to appeal to the shallowest parts of ‘fandom’#like you can add cartoony emoji faces and a sticker with harry and kim as cats. or their hands with the caption ‘best friends!!!’ (wtf lol)#and a frame with a bunch of pride flags being waved around (hard to articulate why i feel doubly annoyed of this one.#your corporate pride parade aesthetic is showing again. also it feels… lazy)#but you can never‚ ever erase the fact that you are parading around a stolen IP that you are entirely out of touch with#and one that you clearly have *no idea what to do with*#(something that we’ve all known for months with these hints but today has finally been basically confirmed as the sequel seems to be#officially cancelled with the last of the original writers’ crew being laid off)#how could you have known what to do with Elysium? how could you ever have?#hope you have fun with your stickers. rot#disco elysium#me talking
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carooosa · 6 months
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Enchanting Distractions
Summary: Tav (reader) has ADHD/is bad at setting boundaries when it comes to their party members. Astarion comforts them.
Word count: 3.5k
A/N: Semi-canon compliant, takes place after the tiefling party and literally right before entering Act 2. I barely proofread it so sorry in advance. I was feeling particularly upset at myself today and so this is what I wrote up.
The days had been starting to blur together as you made your way through the mountain pass. Tomorrow your party would step into the shadow-cursed lands, so it was decided to set up camp early for the night to ensure that everyone was well-rested and prepared. Tension ran through the camp, everyone on edge with the possibility of finding the cause of the tadpoles. Whatever happens tomorrow could very well be the end of your journey.
As everyone set up their tents, you began to look through your supplies, separating potions, arrows, and scrolls into piles to give to your companions. While organizing everything, the sound of Lae’zel and Shadowheart bickering caused you to lift your head. They had never gotten along since the beginning of this tadpole mess but after the Githyanki Creche their hatred for each other seemed to amplify.
“I would say that I’m surprised that machine was unable to get rid of the tadpoles, but then again, I wouldn’t expect gith to know what they were doing,” Shadowheart had taunted Lae’zel.
“The zaith'isk was tampered with! Githyanki technology is far beyond your understanding, and if you had something other than a tadpole in your brain, you would realize the mistake in your words,” Lae’zel shot back. She turned to herself before saying, “Useless istik, mindlessly following a false god”
“What did you just say?” Shadowheart said as she readied herself to attack.
“Your ‘goddess’ ordered you to steal a precious artifact from my people, and yet knowing that does not change your unwavering belief. A goblin has more integrity than you,” Lae’zel said as she continued to walk away.
“Shar is a real goddess, unlike the githyanki’s petty attempt at a goddess, Vlaakith,” Shadowheart yells as she begins to sprint toward Lae’zel. The fighter had already pulled out her sword and the clashing of metal rang through the air. You sighed, standing up from the mess that laid out before you, and ran towards the fight. Before you could intervene, Karlach had taken her great axe and held it out in between the two aggressors before berating them.
“For fuck’s sake guys, the whole point of setting up camp early was to rest for tomorrow, not argue and waste our energy on dumb fights.” As Karlach said this, Shadowheart cast gust of wind to push her opponent back, accidentally hitting Karlach in the crossfire. She had succeeded at causing Lae’zel to lose her grip on her sword but had caused that sword to slash into Karlach’s leg. The tiefling groaned as she kneeled to the ground, clutching her thigh.
You ran back to your bag and turned it upside down, dumping all the contents onto the piles you had started to make earlier, and rummaged through your items until you found a healing potion and some fire-resistant bandages. When you ran over to Karlach to heal her, Wyll was already yelling at the two women who had caused an unnecessary injury.
“Your recklessness has caused this bloodshed!” he sounded exasperated as you handed Karlach the potion, unraveling the bandages and starting to dress her wound, careful to not burn yourself in the process. “You both are distracted by your own prejudices and disdain for each other that the thought you may be hurting others in the process never crossed your minds. So caught up in yourselves, you have yet to see the irony of the words you throw at each other.”
Wyll continued his lecture as you focus on Karlach, watching her toss aside the empty potion bottle. “Thanks, soldier,” she says with a weak smile. She pushes herself off of the ground, causing Wyll to pause his lecture and rush to her side. “I’m fine, just gonna head to bed early,” she says while sidestepping past him.
You take a breath and start to think of how to address the situation that just happened when suddenly, Gale is by your side, anxiously fumbling with his hands. Realization overcame you and you tried to recall the last time you had given the wizard an enchanted item to consume the magic from. 
“I know now might not be the best time,” he starts, “but there really never is a good time nowadays, is there?” he finishes with a chuckle to himself.
“I should have an enchanted ring in my bag—“ you stop when you glance back at your backpack, contents strewn across the ground.
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Gale says quickly. “Dinner isn’t going to cook itself!” He makes his way to his tent and you drag your feet back to your backpack, dreading the mess you’ll have to clean up. Sifting through the items, you create another pile of the things you already looked through. Focused on organizing, you don’t hear Astarion sneak up on you.
“My my, these are quite the… piles you have here,” he says while crouching down across from you. “What’s with all these arrows and grenades? Have you decided to try your hand in ranged combat? Because if so,” he pauses, crimson red eyes staring into your soul, “I’d be more than happy to give you some private lessons.” He bares his teeth, his fangs glistening. You’re tempted to take him up on the offer before you remember why you got those items in the first place.
“Oh, those aren’t for me. I’ve been picking up stuff here and there, and I figured before heading out tomorrow I’d give some to everyone. I was actually organizing everything,” you say, completely forgetting that you were looking for a ring, “and I was going to try and figure out what would be best for everyone to have, but since you’re here, you can pick whatever you want.”
“I can choose anything here?” Astarion asks with a smirk. You nod your head and he responds by picking up your hand and giving it a kiss on the palm, “Then I pick you, my dear.”
Your cheeks flush red as you stutter out a response. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Astarion had been teasing you a lot more lately, and while you didn’t mind, it had proven to be an extra distraction. 
He chuckled at your pout, caressing your face with his other hand, his thumb pressing down on your lower lip. You both stare at each other for a moment, before he sighs and brings his hands back to his side. “Well, if I can’t have you I guess I need to figure something else out.” He scans over the pile and picks up a necklace.
“Wait, not that,” you say while snatching the jewelry away from him. “That can restore one of Shadowheart’s spells, I should go give that to her.” You stand up and run off to find the cleric, not noticing the disgruntled look Astarion has on his face. He sighs and looks down at the clutter, beginning to sift through the items.
While making your way to Shadowheart’s tent, you hear Halsin comfort a whining Scratch. “There, there, I’m sure we will retreive it soon enough,” the druid says while gently petting the dog. “Ah, Tav, could I bother you for a moment? Scratch seems to have lost his ball in a burrow and neither of us can reach it. Would mind seeing if you can grab it?”
Scratch runs up to you and paces around you in circles before you lean down to him, “Of course I’ll help you out, buddy.” Without thinking, you set the necklace on a nearby rock, crouching down to the burrow and searching for the ball. In the shadows you spot it, deep inside the tunnel, and you reach your arm in. 
Your fingers are barely able to reach the toy, and you’re about to maneuver the ball out when Gale speaks. “Tav, I’m terribly sorry to ask again, but were you able to find the enchanted ring perchance?” The ball rolls out of your grasp, and you let out a long sigh before retracting your arm.
“Sorry, Gale, I got distracted. As soon as I get this ball out for Scratch I’ll go and get it for you.” Content with that answer he nods and walks off. Reaching your hand back into the hole, you push yourself against the ground, the extra leverage closing the distance between your hand and the toy. You let out a breath before throwing the ball, Scratch bounding after it.
“Thank you, Tav!” Halsin says as he runs after the dog.
Walking back to where Astarion sits rummaging through your things, Wyll interrupts you. “Tav, do you by chance have a fire resistance potion? I was wanting to give Karlach these flowers to cheer her up,” he says, holding the bouquet in front of him sheepishly. Although Wyll and Karlach had been foes in Avernus, they’re relationship was slowly blossoming into a gentle romance.
“That’s very sweet of you, Wyll. I should have one in my stuff.” You both head over to the piles of items that Astarion had started to organize. It would be nice to have someone think about me like Wyll thinks about Karlach, you ponder as you bend down next to Astarion, grabbing the fire resistance potion that sat buried within the clutter. “Here you go,” you hand Wyll the potion, “I think those will make her very happy.”
Wyll says a quick thanks as he opens the potion with his teeth, hastily pouring the contents over the bouquet and heading off to Karlach’s tent. Clearing his throat, Astarion asks “Did Shadowheart enjoy your gift?” he says with a slight frown and a twinge of annoyance in his voice.
“My what?”
He stares at you for a second, before elaborating, “The necklace? The one that you oh so rudely snatched from my hands.” He watches as your face scrunches up tightly trying to remember what he’s talking about before you gasp.
“The necklace!”
“Yes, the necklace,” he sighs.
“Where did I put it?” you say as you frantically pat down your pockets.
Astarion starts to tease you again, “Really, darling, how could you misplace something like that? I thought that necklace was important after you had yanked it out of my hand and ran off to Shadowheart.” He’s chuckling to himself when he notices the genuine frustration that is starting to seep off of you.
“I just had it. I was holding it in my hand. Where could I have put it?” you mutter to yourself, your breath starting to quicken. Dread creeps through your chest as you begin to mentally retrace your steps. “Think, dammit, think!” Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes, a lump taking place in the back of your throat. Astarion stood up and reached his hand tentatively towards yours, squeezing it gently to try and bring you back to the present.
Gale had made his way back over to you, seeing that you were near your things. “I hate to interrupt this touching moment, but I really do need that ring if you have it,” He says while clutching his chest. Astarion glares daggers at the wizard who is either oblivious or purposely ignoring your stress, but you don’t notice as your mind has drifted off.
Right, you think to yourself, I came over here to look for the ring. Without saying a word, you push away Astarion’s hand and sink to the ground, aimlessly pushing around everything trying to find the ring. Astarion studies you, the way your hands seem to be searching for the relic while your eyes glaze over and stare at nothing, until your hand brushes over the small golden circle and you grasp it firmly. You sigh and recollect yourself before turning around and jumping up to Gale, handing him the ring with a forced smile and laugh. “Sorry for the delay! I’ve been so forgetful lately.”
He takes the ring from your hand, clutching it tightly while absorbing the magic into his chest. When he opens his hand, the ring is broken into two. “Ah, apologies. Dinner should be finished soon. Thanks again,” he says with a bow before leaving.
You sigh before returning to the pile, starting to organize it once again. From the outside, people would assume that you’re just forgetful and easily distracted, most even finding your frantic and hectic demeanor cute. You can’t help but feel like a burden, requiring constant reminders to stay on task, feeling like you need to rely on others instead of yourself. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, either, but no matter how many times you repeated tasks to yourself, how many times you had written down what needs to be done, how many times you had try to will focus into your mind, nothing changed. It's always been like this, and now with the stress of the unknown ahead, you’ve been getting distracted more.
Astarion watches you, determined to organize the mess on the ground. When he first met you, you had brushed off your forgetfulness and laughed along with anyone who had made a joke at your expense. It had annoyed him to no end when you would walk into the same room, multiple times, that you had just looted. This aloofness only seemed to grow after you both had come to an agreement that Astarion could drink your blood in order to satiate his thirst, the only side affect being your increased mind-wandering.
After another 30 minutes of watching you return to the same room over and over to loot, he had decided that you both would search the rooms together, if nothing else to lessen the time it took at each town. He didn’t expect that during the extra, private time you both were now spending together he would begin to grow fond of you. While he would be working on a lock of a chest, you would grab a book and immediately become immersed in it. At first, he would use this time to pocket the most valuable items found in whatever container he had just opened, but as time went on, he had started to ask you questions about what you were reading.
It had caught him off guard when you looked up at him with excitement in your eyes as you explained the gossip in the diary you found, and he couldn’t help but become intrigued himself. Quickly, a new routine had started: while Astarion would loot and lockpick whatever he could get his hands on, you would find diaries, notes, and books to read outloud. He would respond to the especially vulgar and outlandish things you would recite with theatrical gasps and awes. One time, you had stumbled across a particularly sad letter from a person who begged their lover to wait for them, only for their lover to respond that they had never returned. A choked sob had escaped your lips when you finished the letter, and Astarion had quickly called you over to distract you.
“It’s about time that you learn how to use one of these,” he said while he pushed a lockpick into your hands. “If you’re going to stare at me while I do all the work, you may as well get something out of it.” He had been joking, but you hadn’t taken it that way. A wave a guilt and embarrassment had washed over you as you resolved to force yourself to learn what he was teaching you. It was all in vain, however, as every ten minutes when he would ask you to demonstrate, your hands would clam up and your mind would go blank.
“Darling, is it really that hard to focus? Or am I just that distracting, hm?” he had joked.
You wouldn’t look into his eyes, instead you had begun to fumble with the lockpick in your hands. “I’m sorry,” you had whispered, “I’m really trying.”
You had expected him to berate you or to even make a joke about how useless you were, but instead he had sighed and positioned himself behind you, placing his hands over yours as he talked you through the steps, yet again, of lockpicking. When you had heard the final click of the lock, you quickly turned to look at the man who had helped you. Inches away from each other’s faces, he smiled softly and brought one of his hands up to your cheek as he placed a gentle kiss on your temple.
“See? You can focus,” he had said while giving you a tight squeeze.
The sound of your sigh brought him back to the present, and he stared at you for a moment before asking, “Do you want me to go and look for the necklace while you do this?” You stop moving things around and just sit there, defeated. The necklace had completely slipped your mind, just like the ring. Your body begins to shake as tears run down your cheek. Astarion slowly kneels next to you, grabbing the potions and arrows from your hand and setting them off to the side. “Hey, it’s alright. Shh-shh-shh, there’s no need to ruin that beautiful face of yours.”
You start to sob quietly. Why was this so difficult for you? You were able to talk your way out of situations, fight enemies with ease, and coordinate a fighting strategy that used everyone to the best of their abilities, yet you were unable to do such simple things. You draw your hands to your eyes, pressing harshly into them to try and stop the tears that fall out. Astarion gingerly moves his arms around you in a hug, as gentle as he can muster as to not startle you. He squeezes you tightly and you stay like that for a while, before you’re able to croak out a simple question that leaves a pain in his chest.
“What’s wrong with me?” You move your hands away from your face and turn your head to look at him, expecting to see frustration in his eyes but instead finding something softer. It looks as if he’s genuinely concerned. 
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Tav,” he says quietly, barely above a whisper.
“Then why,” you say with trembling words, “why can’t I do such simple things? Why is it so difficult for me to remember what I’m doing, to not get distracted?”
Astarion sighs as he looks at you with his big, round eyes. “You are capable of much more than you know, my sweet. You were designated the leader for a reason. You’re brave, witty, and above all else, kind. You are so sickenly kind and patient with everyone, yet you don’t afford yourself the same grace,” he says as he rubs circles into your back. “You’ve been kind to those that don’t deserve it, but you’re never kind to yourself.”
“Thank you,” you reply meekly. You hated crying in front of your companions, but you found that you didn’t mind being comforted by Astarion.
“Besides, darling,” the vampire joked,” It’s hardly your fault that you keep getting distracted when there are six adult children who need constant supervision.”
“Don’t you mean seven?”
He pulled away from you with a gasp. “I think I am more than capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.”
“Oh, if that’s the case, you don’t need to see me for blood anymore then, right?” you teased.
Astarion squinted at you before his eyes softened and he pulled you into his arms again. You both sat like that for a while before he spoke, barely above a whisper, “I don’t only need you for blood.” Before you can respond, Gale’s call to dinner causes Astarion to push you up. “Go on, enjoy dinner.” You start to protest and gesture to the mess that still needs to be cleaned up before he cuts you off, “I’ll take care of it.” As he begins to sort through the items, he catches your eye before you leave. 
“I hope you know that I’m still expecting to see you tonight,” he says with a sultry voice. If you hadn’t gotten closer recently, you would take what he says at face value, a meaningless flirt to rile you up. But beneath his smirk you can see a hint of sadness in his eyes.
It will need to wait for another time as your stomach grumbles, and you remember that you had forgotten to eat lunch that day. You say a quick thank-you before running off to join the rest of the party, feeling more at ease about the adventure that lay before you.
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fandomxpreferences · 1 year
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So Funny Story (I'm Fucking Your Daughter)
Funny Story Universe
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Mitchell!Reader
TW: allusions to smut, swearing, angst kind of, I think thats it?
Summary: You've had a thing with Jake for a while now. The thing is, your dad doesn't know and your brother is desperate for you to tell him.
Word Count:3.2k
A/N:if you read this on desktop and the bottom is fucked up, please know ive tried 100 times to fix it and Tumblr hates me
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It was never supposed to go this far, honestly. This whole predicament started out as friends with benefits, and that's how it was meant to stay. Somewhere along the way, the boundaries got muddy and occasional hookups turned into regular sleepovers. Without either of you trying or even realizing it, the relationship blossomed into something more serious. 
In the blink of an eye, the blonde aviator became integral to your life. It's really not your fault; falling for him was so effortless. Loving Jake Seresin is as easy as breathing once you get past the arrogant bravado. 
There's just one problem. One giant, monumental, bat-shit crazy issue. Your dad Maverick doesn't know. In fact, when you waltzed into town, the first thing that he told the aviators was that you're off limits, especially to Jake Seresin. Mav knows his type because he is his type. 
The love em and leave em type that can't be tied down. That's not good enough for his little girl, and he won't allow it.
Ironically, that's how it all began. Telling Jake he can't have something is like dangling candy in front of a child, and you love to push the boundaries and do things to prove a point. 
The point being that your dad can't tell you what or who to do. It took all of three weeks to find yourself in the aviator's bed, and you never left. With each day that passes, your anxiety grows, and you know that as you approach your six-month anniversary, you're teetering on hurting Mav when he does find out. 
The only person in on the secret is your big brother. Well, he's not technically your brother, but the two of you have been raised together since diapers, even going on to apply to the academy and flight school together. The way he found out was less than ideal. 
You and Jake are basking in the afterglow of mind-blowing sex, your naked bodies pressed together as you come back down. You're less than decent with the comforter strewn over your ankles as Jake drips out of you. 
Jake's breathless laugh fills the room as his hand rakes through the dark blonde locs your fingers were just tangled in. This has been happening for almost a month now, and you've fallen into a comfortable routine. 
You couldn't stop if you wanted to; truth be told, you'd rather pluck out each of your teeth one by one than never feel Jake Seresin on you again. You've found yourself in freefall, plummeting face-first toward love.
You're too wrapped up in each other to notice the heavy footsteps in the hall and you jump as the door bursts open and slams into the wall. 
"Hey, Hangman, I was won-"Bradley's thought is cut short as he lets out a shrill scream and rushes to cover his eyes. 
"What the fuck?! Y/N, what the hell are you doing?!" 
Jake scrambles to cover the two of you up and you shrink into his arms as he wraps you in a protective embrace. 
"Well, I'm not doing anything now." You mutter, and Bradley lets out an exaggerated gag. 
"No, no, fuck no. Absolutely not. Please tell me this is a one-time thing that's going to the grave." He begs, and your mouth curls up into a sheepish grin. 
"I can lie if it'll make you feel better." You offer, and he groans. 
"God damn it, Y/N. This is the one thing Mav forbade! And don't even get me started with you, Hangman. You're as good as dead." He peeks through his fingers before snapping them closed again.
"For fucks sake, can the two of you please put on some clothes if we're going to be having a conversation?" 
Jake rolls his eyes but moves to slip on a pair of boxers as you grab his shirt and sweatpants. 
"We weren't really looking for a conversation, but come on in, I guess." 
You give Bradley the okay to look, and he shoots daggers at Jake. 
"You're not really in the position to be making smart-ass comments, shit for brains." His voice is sharp, and you snap your fingers at him. 
"Hey, watch your mouth. You're the one who came in unannounced. I'm pretty sure that key is for emergencies only." 
Bradley looks at you in shock and sputters for a few seconds.
"Wh- you. Are you shitting me right now? You're defending him?" He asks, and you shrug. 
"That's what girlfriends do." Your tone is casual, and you can almost see Bradley's heart threatening to explode. 
"Girlfriend?! Oh dear god, please strike me down now. Do you think if we put our heads together, we could figure out time travel so I can go back to a simpler time before I knew about this?" He ponders, hands gesturing wildly between you and Jake.
You snort and shake your head at his antics, allowing yourself to settle back into Jake's chest. 
"You're telling Mav, right? Hopefully, the second I walk out the door?" 
Jake smirks, and you already know he's about to say something out of pocket. 
"I actually had other plans, and I think having Mav present would kill the mood." 
Bradley's muscles ripple with restraint, and he points a finger. 
"Tread lightly, Bagman. That's my baby sister." He growls, and you scoff. 
"Put away the tough guy act, Roo. You and dad need to get over yourselves and realize you're not my keepers." 
Bradley's features soften a bit, and he sighs. His shoulders are tense, and he begins pacing back and forth while mumbling under his breath. 
"Okay, so when are you telling Mav?" 
You shift under his gaze, and he can sense by the way you're batting your eyelashes that he isn't going to like your response. You only do that when you want something, and you know exactly how to get your way with him. 
"Well, that's the thing," You start, and Bradley sets his mouth in a hard line. 
"We- I was hoping this could be our little secret." 
Your lower lip juts out, but it does nothing to make Bradley cave this time. 
"No."
You climb out of bed and amble toward him, doing your best to look small and innocent. He eyes you with suspicion, and you stop in front of him. 
"Come on, BradBrad. Please? For me?" 
That seals his fate. 
"Fuck- fine! How long?" 
You squeal and engulf him in a tight hug that he reluctantly returns. 
"Just a little bit longer." 
He sighs in defeat, and you pull back with a bright smile. 
"When you tell him, keep me out of it. I'll be buried alongside Jake if he finds out I knew, and I can't think of anything worse than an eternity next to that dickhead."
You slap his arm lightly, and he turns to leave. 
"I can't believe I got drug into this bullshit."
That was almost six months ago, and it turns out you and Bradley have different definitions of just a little bit longer. He's resorted to calling you every day, pestering you relentlessly about when you're coming clean. 
You're sprawled out in Jake's bed while he gets water in the kitchen, and your phone rings on schedule. You answer the FaceTime call, and Bradley's distressed face pops up on the screen. 
"When are you telling him?" He asks, skipping niceties altogether. 
"Well, hello to you too." You jest, but he doesn't look the slightest bit amused. You swear you can spot a few new wrinkles coupled with gray hairs, and guilt eats at you. It fades quickly when you hear the bite in his tone. 
"Y/N, I'm serious. When are you going to tell him?" 
You groan and roll onto your side, a migraine settling in. 
"I don't know, Brad! The wedding? Why would I tell him when I'm just going to get a lecture? The two of you aren't exactly the most level-headed people when it comes to me!" 
Remorse swims in your brother's eyes, and he takes a deep breath. 
"Wedding? Are the two of you really that serious?" He questions, and your free hand comes up to rub your temple. 
"I don't know, maybe? The thought has crossed my mind." 
A ghost of a smile covers his face, and he rubs his jaw. There's a knock at the front door, but you don't pay it any mind as he starts speaking again.
"Well, little sis, if it's really tha-" 
You cut him off when you hear voices float up the stairs and shoot up in bed. 
You vaguely hear Jake say, "So, funny story." followed by another man's voice.
"Shut the fuck up. Hold on." Your ears strain to hear better, and Bradley frowns when your face blanches. "Oh my god." 
You jump out of bed and start scrambling around, desperate to find an escape. 
"What's going on?" 
Your head snaps back to your phone, and Bradley hasn't seen you this frantic since he caught you making out with your high school boyfriend that you snuck in. 
"Dad is here!" You whisper shout. "Why the fuck is he here?"
Bradley scowls and tries to sort out the situation in his head. 
"Are you sure?" 
You scoff as you climb out the window and curl up on the roof, shivering as a cold breeze whips around you. 
"What do you me- yes, I'm sure! You think I don't recognize my own dad's fucking voice?" 
Your voice is hushed, and Bradley's eyes widen when he realizes you're serious. 
"Well, what the hell is he doing there at ten pm?" He asks and the pointed look you give him causes him to snap his mouth shut. 
"Just shut the fuck up before you get me caught!" You bite, and you vaguely register him moving around. This is absurd. You're not a teenager in high school. Why the hell are you hiding from your dad on your boyfriend's roof?
"God, I have the worst luck. It could be raining dicks, and I'd look up and catch a titty!" You complain, and Bradley snorts on the other end.
You wait with bated breath, praying it's just a quick visit, but you have no such luck. 
You hear the door to Jake's room open, and Bradley searches for his keys. So much for leaving him out of it. 
"I'm on my way." He informs you, and your eyes are wild as you acknowledge him with a nod. Your breaths are erratic as panic claws at your throat; for once, you don't argue with him. 
The second you hear the window slide open, you know you're done for. You're met with your dad's hard eyes and try to muster an angelic smile. His jaw is set, and there's a burning crimson peeking over the collar of his shirt all the way up to his cheeks. 
"Hi, daddy."
You don't even get a chance to stand before a loud crash rings out, and you rush back inside, almost falling in the process. He has Jake pinned against the wall with his arm across his throat, murder clearly not off the table. 
Jake just takes it, his face relaxed and posture open. You know better, though. You've managed to get past that unphased exterior, and you can read the fear in Jake's eyes like a book. 
"What is the one thing I fucking said?" Mav growls through clenched teeth, and you're on him in an instant. 
You try your best to pull him back, desperate for space between the men, but it's no use. Mav only has maybe half an inch on you, but the man is a lot stronger than he looks. The adrenaline pumping through his veins does nothing to help and you resort to pleading. 
"Dad, stop!" 
He turns to look at you, and for the first time in your life, there's no mercy or gentleness on his face when he stares at you. 
"I'll deal with you in a minute."
You've never seen him like this, which sends a shiver down your spine. You knew it would be ugly, but never in a million years did you think he would go this far off the rails. 
Thoughts race through your head at a million miles an hour as you try to think of what to do, but the problem is solved for you. 
There are loud thumps as Bradley bounds up the stairs, and the scene unfolds quicker than you can process. You watch as he picks your dad up and removes him from Jake, your feet carrying you to your boyfriend at lightning speed. 
"Are you okay? I'm so sorry." You weep, and you can't recall when you started crying. 
You try to look behind you as Mav struggles against Bradley, but Jake cradles your face and forces you to stay looking at him. 
"Hey, I'm fine. Look at me, sweets. Don't worry about that right now, let Rooster calm him down." 
Mav fights against the larger man with a valiant yet futile effort. Bradley considers wrapping his arms around him entirely and forcing him to stay in place but decides not to push his luck. 
Just as the thought enters his mind, Mav slams face-first into realization and stops abruptly. 
"Did you know about this?" 
Bradley swallows and retreats with slow steps as Mavs wrath is re-focused on him. He feels like he's going toe to toe with a wild animal and wonders if playing dead would work.
"I may or may not have had a teeny bit of knowledge about the situation." He says cautiously, and your dad's eyes narrow into thin slits. 
"You didn't think to tell me?" He snaps, and Bradley raises his hands defensively. 
"It wasn't my place. Besides, based on this reaction, can you blame us for keeping you in the dark?" 
He immediately wishes he could take it back when Mavs fist clenches at his side. You briefly consider making a break for it and going into witness protection, but you don't have the chance before your dad's attention is back on you. 
"You know how this ends, Y/N. I have told you time and time again not to get caught up with men like him." 
His voice is softer now but still holds an edge, and Jake's arm tightens around your waist. Mav doesn't miss the subtle shift; his jaw ticks upon seeing the man's hand on his only daughter. 
In his defense, he's been through this with you before. He and Bradley are so protective because you've had your heart broken more than once by hotshot military men, and you never seem to learn your lesson. 
You know this time is different, though. You just have to get your dad to see it. 
"He's not like that, dad. He's different. I trust him." Your voice is small and Mav shakes his head. 
"You always think that! They're all different in the beginning, but it always ends the same. Let's go." He motions toward the door, but your feet stay glued in place. 
"No."
His head whips around to look at you, and you almost laugh at how high his eyebrows are raised. You've got a history of defying him, but you've never blatantly told him no to his face before. 
"Excuse me?" 
You stand a little straighter now and take a step forward, but Jake keeps his hand on the curve of your spine. 
"I said no. I'm not leaving, and I'm not wrong. This isn't the beginning when you're still under some spell, and this isn't going to end with me heartbroken."
Your dad scoffs and places a hand on his hip, clearly over this entire ordeal. 
"What do you mean this isn't the beginning?" 
You take a deep breath and try to steady your voice before answering, and Bradley looks like he wants to die. Being buried next to Jake doesn't sound so bad if it gets him out of this. 
He knows your response will send Mav into another tailspin, and he braces himself, ready to jump in again if he has to. 
"Jake and I have been dating for six months. I love him, and he loves me." 
There it is, the nuclear bomb. The words hang in the air as Mav processes the information, and his eyes dart back and forth absentmindedly as he does the math. 
"You've been seeing him since you got here?"
You can see the hurt on his features for the first time since he arrived, making your stomach twist. His shoulders drop, and all the fight leaves his body. 
"It started out as a fling. We never meant for it to get this serious. We were going to tell you but time just kept passing and it got to the point that we didn't know how to anymore." You explain gently, and he sits on Jake's bed before jolting back up. 
"God only knows what's happened in those sheets, can we go to the living room or something?" He asks with his face scrunched in disgust, and you huff a short laugh through your nose. 
The four of you go downstairs and sit in the living room as your dad continues raking over every interaction he has ever seen you have with Jake in his mind. 
"How did you manage to keep this a secret from everyone when you all work together? Or am I the only one that doesn't know?" 
You shake your head and lay on Jake's shoulder. Your migraine has upgraded to a jackhammer doing to town on the inside of your skull, and you want nothing more than to take a painkiller and close your eyes. 
"No one else knows. We haven't told them, at least." 
Mav nods and settles into the armchair, clearly making himself at home as he props his feet up on the coffee table. You feel the waves of displeasure rolling off of Jake. The man is religious about keeping the house clean, and his eye is already twitching at the fact your dad still has his shoes on. 
You're about to say something when a more pressing matter comes to your attention. 
"Wait, how did you know I'm here?" You frown, and Mav freezes. You give him the signature Mitchell look that tells him not to bullshit you, and he shrinks back a bit. 
"I tracked your phone when you didn’t answer my calls." He mumbles, and you lurch forward in your seat. 
"Pardon? You tracked me? How do you even have access to that? No, better yet, why do you have that? You don't think that's a tad invasive?" You half shout, and Bradley winces. 
Two angry Mitchells under one roof is never a good thing. The last time it happened, he had to make up a story to send the cops away. 
You're brought back down when Jake's large hand squeezes your thigh, and you close your eyes while taking a deep breath. That's one thing you love about this man. He's the only person you've ever met that can bring you back from the edge. 
Bradley and Mav share a look at your sudden shift in demeanor, and you know they're both thinking the same thing. Neither of them has ever been able to snuff out your temper once the fuse is lit, and the fact Jake did it without so much as a word speaks volumes. 
"Okay, I'm fine. Everything is fine." You breathe and Jake smiles. He's proud of the way you've grown since dating him. Your spitfire attitude makes him look tame. He never imagined he'd love a woman who encourages his antics rather than trying to control him. 
That's why you two work so well. You bring out his chaos, and he brings out your calm. It's the perfect ratio of give and take. The two of you bring out the best in each other, which is part of why you fell so fast. 
"Listen, dad. Jake and I are going to keep seeing each other whether you like it or not. He makes me feel safe, wild, and loved; I couldn't ask for a better man. If you could try and pull your head out of your ass for more than three seconds, you might be able to see that." 
There's another thing Jake adores about you. You never shy away from speaking your mind, and you never sugarcoat the truth. He's seen you make grown men cry, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that you're the only one who could ever put the legendary Maverick in his place with little to no effort. 
Mav goes to bite back, but the look you give him has the words dying on his tongue. You're a clone of him, yet somehow even more of an immovable force. He knows there's no point in arguing; you're not going to budge. 
"Okay. I'll try to get on board." He relents, and Bradley's eyes dart between the two of you. 
Mav turns to Jake, and your boyfriend sits up, ready to take a verbal berating. 
"If you hurt her, I will ensure you never touch an F-18 again. She better never call me crying over you, Seresin, so help me god." 
You feel Jake nod next to you, and some of the tension dissipates from your shoulders. 
"Oh, and for the love of Christ, don't get my daughter pregnant." 
Bradley chokes on his spit and your eyes widen with horror. 
"Dad! Oh my god." You groan, but he stands firm in his statement. 
"I mean it. You're still at the height of your career. The last thing you need is a baby out of wedlock." 
You know it's coming from a place of love and concern, but it doesn't make it less embarrassing. No one expects Jake's response, and Bradley raises his eyebrows at you. 
"What if I marry her first?"
Mav looks genuinely taken aback, and the mouthy pilot is struck silent for the first time. His mouth opens and closes a few times, and you watch with amusement as he tries to make his brain work. 
"One thing at a time." 
At that, Bradley stands up and shoots your dad a look. 
"We should get going. It's late, and I think I speak for everyone when I say I'm ready for this to be over." 
Mav nods, and you stand to give him a hug before Jake shakes his hand. 
"Love you, dad. Love you, Roo." 
"Love you too." They say in unison, and you release a breath you didn't know you were holding when the front door closes. 
You turn to Jake with your arms crossed, an arrogant smirk painted on your lips. 
"So you want to marry me and get me pregnant, huh?" 
“Is that okay with you?” He asks and you wrap your arms around his neck.
“More than okay. Why don’t we start practicing tonight?” You suggest and his eyes darken before spinning you around to face away from him. 
“Lead the way.”
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friendball-irl · 2 months
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OOC: hey, using this blog because it's got a shit ton of followers and I can use it for good purposes
IT IS NOT OKAY TO TELL SOMEONE WHAT THEY CAN AND CAN'T DO ON THEIR OWN BLOG IF THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THEIR CHARACTER OR STORY
Some of my friends over the year and a half I've been on here have been harassed or pressured into dropping stories or feeling like they can't play the character like they want to. I've seen this happen a lot with blogs that are a little darker in nature or have storylines that involve a darker tone.
That's not okay.
No one has the right to tell anyone else what they can or can't do just because their blog is different from theirs. This is a fucking community, and that means that there's going to be stuff that only a fraction of the people will like.
This does not excuse blogs that have tried to do plots that involve actually disgusting topics or storylines. There are some things that shouldn't be put out there for anyone to stumble across, let alone in a public space like this.
The point is that if you deliberately drive away a member of the community just to make yourself happier, that's the absolute wrong way to handle it.
Just block them for god's sake.
You don't want to see the story but you like the character? Block tags.
And if tags would get rid of too much, then I'm sorry but you should just not interact with them anymore. Live with the guilt/sadness about not interacting with them. Don't make them change to fit your narrative.
There's a difference between setting healthy boundaries and intentionally making a situation more difficult than it has to be.
I'm disappointed in anyone that has done this to others. This is a creative outlet for many of us, and you don't have the right to restrict how they can express themselves. It's supposed to be fun. Don't take it so seriously that it's affecting you in real life.
Period.
I'm done with this shit.
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 5 months
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No longer yours to keep
summary: what happens when you and Xaden bond with mated dragons but you're already dating Garrick?
warning: pretty suggestive, some iron flame spoilers.
Kind of part II
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For as long as you could remember it had been you three against the world. Your families had been extremely close so it was inevitable for your three to end up being best friends. And it was like that until you all started to grow up. And once the teenage years kicked in so did the desire to explore and learn new things.
You mingled in this relationship with no boundaries, no labels for a bit. Until Xaden had to uphold his duties. Had to agree to be engaged to a girl just for the sake of power. That of course meant that you and Garrick had been slightly pushed to the side. Xaden was barely free to spend time with you, barely there for your usual nights out. Meaning that you and Garrick fell into this easy rhythm. This bonding over losing a friend you two loved dearly. And without any big gestures. Without any grand signs had fallen in love.
Garrick had always been made of sharp edges, similar to Xaden. Just Xaden used that as a form of self-defense when he needed to be out in the public and Garric... He had always been on the rougher side. Had always been harder to read. To predict. But he was an amazing lover. There wasn't a moment where you felt unseen or unheard. Yes, he had his moments but once he stewed over them, he would always come to apologize. To make it right. And he was so protective. Boy, was he protective. It was both a charming thing because it empowered you even more but... it was frightening too because Garrick's heart was in your hands, he had let you in deeper than anyone else. And you had planned to keep it forever. Had planned but...
But then threshing came. You three were at the top of your squad. Ready to grasp the best spots in the section. Garrick and Xaden were already waiting when you emerged. They had remained close friends throughout the years. Lost had changed and in all honesty it was you who bitched to Xaden the most. "We can do the next shipment after we bond with dragons", Xaden said quietly. There was a revelation brewing. And surprise, surprise Xaden was at the top of it. "I'll get the boys to take the boxes tonight", Garrick said, as his arm sneaked around your waist, "Hey", he muttered pressing his lips to your temple. "Everything's okay?", you asked, earning a nod from them both. "Excited to bond?", you looked across the field as the wind picked up.
"I have my eyes set on a dragon I want", Xaden said firmly. "Of course you do", you rolled your eyes, suddenly feeling the urge to cling to Garrick as if this might as well be the last time you two were gonna see one another. "You're okay?", Garrick wrapped an arm over your shoulders, you hesitated for a moment but... they were your childhood friends after all.
"I just have this weird feeling", you breathed out, "Like something is about to change". Xaden snicked from beside you and Garrick threw him a glare. "We will be bonding with dragons today, princess", Xaden mused. "Might be. Don't be too full of yourself", you bit back, Garrick instantly brought you closer to him, hands on your hips, "Don't bite his throat out, baby". Xaden pushed away from the wall, "I'll see you two there".
You huffed out a breath. You didn't want to be a bitch but that man was grinding your gears at times. He was also putting himself in so much danger and for what? A fucking title? "Tell me about what's worrying you", Garrick cupped your face. Your eyes met his. God, you loved this man. "I just have a bad feeling", you muttered, "I don't think that anyone is dying today but... I think that things are going to be different. Really different". Garrick tilted his head to the side as he watched you. "All I care about is that you come back to me", he muttered, "with or without a dragon, I just want you back by my side". His words clenched at your heart because somehow deep down you had an inkling that that was exactly what wasn't gonna happen.
You had crossed paths with burnt flesh multiple times. Guess this year's threshing theme was roasted cadets for dinner. You were so tired. Sure, this had to end soon and you would have to admit your defeat. And just... A puff of hot air hit your back making you still. You could feel its presence behind you. You took a deep breath in before turning around. And here it stood. The biggest black dragon you had ever seen. "Holly fuck", you breathed beneath your breath.
Your head was buzzing. Every fiber of your skin was on fire. You could believe that you had bonded with a dragon. A black one at that. Black dragons rarely bonded. Lower your ego he snarled in your mind. You slide down his leg ready to give your dragon's name so you can be officially linked when an overwhelming sense of emotions hits your chest. You faltered slightly. Gripping the edge of the table a huge scroll will names was placed on it.
You hand fell on your chest as the edges of your vision blurred. You let out a pained breath as your eyes snapped up and here he stood. On the other side of the field. A blue dragon by his side. Eyes burning holes into you. Hands in fists. What the fuck... you felt an arm wrapping around your waist. Oddly enough wanting to pull away because it just didn't feel right only to find Garrick inches from you, cupping your face. And then everything went black.
Your eyes snapped open with a jolt. The moon was casting faint light over the room. Garrick was passed out beside you. His hand wrapped around your middle. You brushed your fingers through his messy hair when a wave of need rushed through you. Need that wasn't however in any way related to the man that was next to you. Come to me. The voice rang in your head making you jolt. And even if you didn't want to. And even if you tried to fight it. Tried to fall back asleep. Tried cuddling into your boyfriend. Not even fifteen minutes later you were padding through the quiet corridors.
You didn't even have a clue as to where you were going and yet here you were, standing right next to the person that had taken over your mind. "Why the fuck do I feel you in every fiber of my body, Riorson", you said through gritted teeth. Your body grew warm just from the sight of him. "Our dragons are mated", he said bluntly, puffing out a cloud of mirth-root. You instantly crossed the distance between you too, snatching the blunt and taking a hit yourself. The overwhelming feeling eased slightly, but your body still yarned for him.
"We need to sort this out, get this fixed", you muttered, brushing your fingers through your hair in frustration. "How do you plan on doing that? They have been mates for centuries. Fuck, we hadn't even been born back then", Xaden huffed out. "I'm with Garrick, I won't leave him, I...", you muttered in panic, but Xaden's hand that sneaked up your throat made your voice die down.
"They are fucking", Xaden said through gritted teeth, eyes hazy as he looked at you. You could feel it too. Gods, even the smell of him. "We can't... I can't do this to him", you pushed back, trying to keep distance between you two. "Do you think it's not eating me alive?", Xaden growled, cursing under his breath, "I watched Garrick falling head over heels for you. You're it for him, and now...", Xaden turned around, bracing a hand on the wall as he breathed. Please hold your pleasure to yourself you snarled at your dragon. But it's like your words didn't even reach him.
You took in a shaky breath, right as your eyes met Xaden, and within the blink of an eye you were pressed against the stone wall, legs wrapped around Xaden's hips. His teeth buried in your neck as you dug your nails into the back of his neck. It felt as if your body was on fire. As if only with him near you could finally breathe. "We can go back to having an open relationship", Xaden breathed against your ear. You shook your head, "Garrick will never share, we're in too deep", you muttered. Xaden let out a growl, "If he'll want to keep you, he will share, baby". His hands moved up your shirt, Garrick's shirt, and that was a reminder enough for you to push against Xaden's chest. You wiggled till he finally lost his grip on you. "If you'll challenge him for a claim of me, I swear to everything I believe in, I will suffocate you in your sleep", you pointed a warning finger at him. Xaden only chuckled, "You'll be crawling to me", he breathed out. Dark eyes watching you. "Fuck you, Riorson", you huffed, "You'll do that to baby", he mussed right as you turned around. Practically running back to your room. Heart beating in your chest so loudly that for a while it was all you could breathe.
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f10werfae · 1 year
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Act like a Mother
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pairing: Dad!Husb!Chris Evans x Wife!Mom!Reader
Summary: Chris is stressed and reader has been taking care of the kids then one day she's maybe cooking, just far away from the kids and one of them maybe falls and hurts themselves and Chris criticizes readers mothering skills (warning: argument but reconciliation) (Requested by anon)
requests are open/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️
Chris Evans Masterlist, full masterlist, taglist form
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Y/n breathed out in exhaustion, clearly needing time to herself while cooking her family of four dinner, her husband Chris had just gotten back from filming Ghosted and was intent on catching up on lost sleep. The bags under her eyes were not missable, hell even Chris’ own ma had stepped in a few times just to remind the poor woman to eat.
Having two children under the age of five surely wasn’t easy, and everyone seemed to see that but Chris. Of course don’t get me wrong he’s such a hands on, amazing doting father; yet he always seems to miss the hardest parts of parenting while filming. The teaching of boundaries, basic safety and precious memories.
Mindlessly stirring the stew Y/n huffed out before a loud high pitched squeal filled her ears, that of her son’s, Liam. Within seconds her mother instincts kicked in and she rushed to the living room, her now awakened husband shushing the poor thing with his head hidden into his father’s neck. His loud sobs slowly stifling down to smaller hiccups, his younger sister Laura luckily still asleep in her bassinet.
“W-what happened?” Y/n asked wiping her hands onto her apron before reaching for her baby, only for her heart to break when Chris stepped back shaking his head, his eyes filled with fatigue and anger.
“I’ll talk to you in the kitchen, go wait for me there” He said coldly, walking away to put baby Liam back into his bassinet, lulling him back to sleep by padding around the room.
Feeling the tension, Y/n walked into the kitchen grabbing her hair out of frustration, her husband’s footsteps following behind her.
“What the hell was that Y/n?” Chris said closing the kitchen, his voice now raising, his voice accusatory.
“What do you mean?” Y/n was now confused, she’d done nothing wrong?
“Our baby hurts himself and you’re not even there to protect him? What if something serious had happened and I wasn’t there? He hit his head off the wall, luckily not too hard. Is this what’s been going on when i’m gone? God do you even care about our kids, because your attention is clearly elsewhere”
He shouted pointing at the stew which was now definitely overcooked,
“B-but you were on the couch so I thought maybe-“
“What? Does that suddenly relieve you of all responsibility? Come on Y/n, you’re a mother, act like one”
Now that sentence did it
You’re a mother, act like one
A loud ringing noise filled Chris’ ears and his cheek hot, his wife had thrown her hand so fast it was a surprise, he noticed her eyes were now watering, before he could even try to reach for her she had thrown off her apron and stormed off.
‘fuck sake’ Chris groaned leaning onto the countertop, his his hands rubbing his gruff beard in frustration,
(Y/n’s P.O.V)
“Oh no” I whispered feeling tears and sobs make their way out of my mouth, I hated crying or being upset, walking towards the living room I saw my two babies awake and sitting in their respective bassinets which were in the living room during the day.
“Mama’s sorry, didn’t mean it” I sobbed picking up Liam and holding him against me, his tiny hands going around my neck,
“Mama cry?”
“I’m okay honey” I whispered smiling at my son’s caring nature, leaning down to also pick up Laura, I headed up the steps and into their shared bedroom.
For the past few months, I had basically acted as a single mother. Chris visited as much as he could, sending us things we needed, but I can’t deny the feeling of being alone in this. Having to change every single diaper on my own, feeding time, bath time, every single tear was on me. Of course Scott and Lisa helped out as much as they could, but I couldn’t let them parent my kids, that would be too much.
So to hear my own husband accuse me of not caring for our kids and insinuate that i’m not acting like a mother? That was fucking disrespectful and out of line, as if he’s been here the whole fucking time, what a prick.
Placing them onto their shared double bed, the two of them instantly cuddled into one another, tucking in with their favourite stuffies. Liam was genuinely protective over his little sister, never denied her cuddles or offers to play, something I was glad about.
“Momma 'tay please” Laura whined moving over on the bed to be in the middle, patting the mattress beside her, feeling another set of tears choke me up I moved in beside them. My arm reaching over to hug both of them, Laura’s tiny body flushed against my chest, as if she was still a newborn. With her hand gripping onto my shirt cutely, her big brother cuddled in behind her, both of them falling asleep almost instantly. Just like their father.
Soon enough just like them, I found my eyes slowly closing, the stinging from the tears making them seem more and more heavy.
(Chris' P.O.V)
“Chris I did not raise you to talk to women like that, especially your own wife. Have you not seen my poor daughter-in-law? She’s 24/7 caring for your kids, she’s even missed out on enough meals to feed a country. Did ya know that? Scott and I had to make more than a few runs just to make sure she had remembered to eat. Two kids under five isn’t exactly a trip Christopher, it’s hard enough with two parents, now imagine doing it as one”
“I know ma, I know. I messed up real bad, what do I do?”
“You’re her husband, figure it out son”
Breathing out I listened as the beep rang telling me my ma just hung up on me, looking around at the kitchen around me, my heart broke hearing her apologise to our babies like that. I did that. Y/n did nothing wrong to deserve that.
Walking up to our bedroom I saw our bed was still made, she hadn’t come to bed yet. Had she left with the kids? Had it really been that bad? Rushing towards the kids’ room I opened it to see my whole life right in front of me, my amazing wife and the lives we created.
(No one’s P.O.V)
Leaning over Chris watched Y/n sleep peacefully, her eyes still puffy from earlier making his heart break that much more. With on hand under her back and another under her knees, he picked her up effortlessly and carried her back into their shared room. A small smile on his face when he felt her cuddle into his chest, his eyes catching their wedding photo pinned above their bed.
Putting her down onto her side, Chris slipped in beside her and just stared at her, taking in all of her beauty. She looked so soft and calm in her sleep, showing Chris just how stressed she was. Angry at himself he brushed a bit of her hair back, her doe eyes fluttering open, a bittersweet smile making its way onto his face.
“W-what am I doing here?” She asked confused, her eyes trailing around the room tiredly, grabbing onto the comforters more tightly.
“Honey- I-“ Chris started but before he could even say anything, Y/n had cuddled into his chest, sobs wrecking through her entire body making her shake. Her hands tightly held onto the bottom of his shirt, Chris could feel his shirt slowly dampening, his hand coming up to rest onto the back of her head.
“H-how could y-you say that to me? I thought w-we were a team Chrissy? That hurts” She cried, hiccups interrupting her every so often, Chris hated himself at that moment. Never in his life did he want to retreat his woman to tears, never.
“I-i’m so sorry honey, to be honest, I think I just didn’t wanna blame myself for what happened. Instead I did the selfish thing and took it out on you baby, something that is not excusable whatsoever. You’re right, we are a team and I know I completely ambushed you back there. Like we said 6 years ago, I love you with my mind, body and soul; please forgive me Y/n” He whispered cupping her wet face with his hands, his lips brushing over her pink pouting ones ever so slightly.
“You hurt me Chris, you hurt me bad i’m not gonna lie. I do everything I can in my power to be there for our babies, I just wish you could see that.”
“I do see it, trust me I do. It was so so stupid of me to even accuse you of something like that, I shoulda been taking care of you as soon as I got back. I-I heard from ma-“
“It’s okay Chrissy, I’m fine now, now that you’re back. Just please don’t hurt me like this again, I gave you my heart, don’t stomp on it.”
“I won’t butterfly, i’d rather meet death himself before letting that happen again. Now let’s get to sleep, because I have something planned for you tomorrow yeah?”
“You do?”
“Mhm so shut those pretty eyes of yours and let me cuddle on ya”
“Okay okay mr bossy pants” Y/n laughed turning around into a spooning position, the tension from their heated argument slowly dissolving thankfully. They both knew this fight wouldn’t even be remembered in a weeks time, that’s how well they worked together, sure they had their bumps but so does everyone. It all just depends on how you overcome it, together.
“Oi, just sleep will ya?” Chris laughed pressing kisses to her neck, her lemon scented shampoo filling his nostrils. Her hands placed over his on her stomach, their legs all tangled up under the sheets, frankly to keep her icy ones warmed up. This was what he missed most, just this.
———
Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @patzammit @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @mirikusashes @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @emvebee @annajustwrites @mischiefsemimanaged @madebylilly @marvelgurl @cevansgurl @chrisevansangel @chrisevansdaughter @evanstanwhore @caps-shield1918 @seren-a-ity@mrspeacem1nusone @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @tojisbabymomma @bxdbxtxh15 @tinyelfperson @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @royalwriteroftheuniverse @fdl305 @mdpplgtz03 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @adoreyouusugar @imboredat2am @meetmeatyourworst @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @oliviah-25 @s-void @aerangi @roofwitty779 @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry @bluebellsn @feltonswifesworld87 @ravenhood2792 @lastwandastan @angelmather1 @diyabhanushali1 @bval-1
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poppy-metal · 2 years
Note
"we shouldn't be doing this" sex with Eddie where he's been trying to leave you alone so your reputation doesn't get ruined but you keep trying to hang out with him and he's so obsessed with you that he caves every time. When you finally sleep together he gets sooo drunk off your pussy but he's still mumbling a moaning "we shouldn't- we shouldn't do this-" into your neck, into your chest, into your mouth, but he keeps going. He doesn't stop. You beg him to fuck you harder, tell him you want him so bad and he tells you you shouldn't but complies anyway. Your cunt is so wet that you're soaking his happy trail and your whining is addictive and you keep looking at him like he put the stars in the sky just for you. Your panties are tucked away in his back pocket as a memento because he's so sure that he won't let this happen again, for your sake, but when you keep coming back for more... with your pretty smile and bedroom eyes... how could he resist?
eddie trying so hard to be valiant and failing because he can't say no to you is my favorite thing ever in the whole wide world.
he's shocked by how much you dont care because the anxiety of people being mean to you because of him eats him up inside. he's all about non conformity and fuck what other people think until it comes to you because the thought of people saying the kind of things they say about him to you? it makes him feel violent and he doesn't consider himself a violent person at all.
so, all this to say, he puts up a fight. hes not standoffish, because hes weak to your smile, it makes his legs feel like jello, but he puts up boundaries at first. doesn't let himself sit too close to you, doesn't share the blunts he rolls you because then he'll get stuck in his head about indirect kisses because, yes, his crush on you is that bad. he doesn't let himself hang out with you after midnight, or brush your hair behind your ear like he wants to when it falls into your face.
you push though.
you ask to see him for longer, you scoot closer into his space because you're interested in what he has to say, you pluck his own blunt from his lips and take a hit, completely ignoring the separate one he made for you, you show up at his trailer in your skirts and high thighs with your twinkling lips and soft eyes and curiosity about his life and just him in general and hes pretty much your slave.
he hears himself stuttering when you lean in to kiss him, hears him choke out some shitty excuse about not wanting to ruin your reputation or hurt you. he says all these things, and still you move closer and its like his brain shuts off the second you settle yourself on his lap and ask him to "touch me eddie, please." the moral part of his brain goes bye, bye, and by the time it clicks back on, all fuzzy, your legs are around his head and hes got a mouth full of your wet cunt. he pulls back, your eager little clit throbbing in protest from where he'd been tonguing it hungrily, god he'd been eating at you like some kind of animal, but fuck you'd loved it. his lips are shiny with you when he has the wherewithal to say,
"we shouldn't be doing this. you shouldn't be letting me do this."
but do the words even matter when hes shoving his jeans down as he says them, pushing your thighs out and up so your pussy plumps up to him? he doesn’t think so. still, he shakes his head like this is bad, bad, bad, and he knows it, his hair shifting around his pale shoulders, as he rubs the fat head of his cock through your weeping slit, taps it lewdly against your little button just to see you jerk.
you say, "want you to be my first. want your cock inside me, eddie please, show me what its like. want you to fuck me."
there goes his moral compass again. clicked off. he thinks he says something like, "aw, hell." before hes shifting his hips, and his cock is enveloped in the warm wet hug of your cunt.
its just sensation after that. warm. tight. hot. wet. so fucking wet and tight, like a vice around his cock, you're gripping him like your pussies hungry for it, dripping all the way down to his fucking balls, and he can hear the loud wet slap of them, god, you're more slutty then he gave you credit for, all those school girl skirts and high thighs and stuffed animals are jusr a ruse, huh? just a little ruse trying to disguise the fact that you're a naughty girl with a dirty cunt that wants to be fucked.
he must be saying all this out loud, babbling it probably in some delirious haze your pussy has cast over him because your eyes are crossing and you're nodding like you're agreeing.
you guys shouldn't be doing this, yeah, but hell, if an angel walks willingly into a demons lair, what do you really expect to happen?
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 months
Note
heyyyy ariiii happy sunday!! (if its still sunday for you)
heres a free pass for anything you feel like!
Clark looked down at the phone on your tool chest that had not stopped ringing. Fuckboi Prime was all it said on the screen. And given that you hadn't so much as turned your head, he assumed you weren't concerned.
But. Still. He didn't understand giving people funny names in your phone. And he wondered what his was. Or if he had one. Did he have a Fuckboi title?
You were at the Watchtower to do some maintenance. Checking some of the stuff you made. Hell if Clark knew what, Just that- wll. He kinda liked watching you work. There was an artistry there. Just as much muscle memory and effort as your skating.
"You gonna answer that?" he asked," leaning against the wall near where you were welding.
"To unsnarl Bruce's new mess? No. He adopted a child. I'm not going to help raise him."
"What-"
"Blah blah trauma. Blah blah sad. Blah blah I don't understand how to respect boundaries and let other people have lives."
"Fair but how did anyone let him do that?" Clark asked blinking.
"No one let him so much as it just kinda happened," you sigh. "I sent gear. And my condolences to Alfred but I'm not going back to Gotham while he's still messing with Selina."
"Fair," Clark said, keeping his tone neutral. Waiting as you lift your face mask and wipe sweat off your face before stealing a kiss. "You okay?"
"Frustrated."
"Also fair. Do you want-"
"Don't get involved," you plead, "I just- God I'm so tired. If fucking feels like he tried to baby trap me."
Clark snorted, "It seems like that," he admitted. "Is he trying to get you to come home?"
"As if I know how to do anything with kids- for fucks sake. Jackie let me live on canned Ravioli and apple sauce for the first year I lived with him for the most part."
"You lived though. And became a world-class Athlete."
"Yeah. But Bruce has Alfred. And a pretty solid staff. He doesn't NEED me. He just doesn't like that I'm not there."
Clark smiled a little and swept a sweat-damp strand of hair out of your face. "I'm proud of you," he said, "I know it sucks. But you deserve to live your own life."
You sigh and thud your head against his chest tossing your mask on the table.
"I do have one question though," he hummed.
"Hmm?"
"If Bruce is Fuckboi supreme in your phone, what am I saved as?"
"Clark, what else would you be?" you ask looking up at him, "Did you want-"
"No! No, Clark is good. My name is fine."
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viridianevergarden · 1 month
Text
Reading comprehension and critical thinking has really gone out the window hasn’t it? At least in a portion of the fandom.
People are forever stuck under the presumption that Az feels pure lust for Elain and nothing more. That lust suddenly doesn’t go hand in hand with love? That Az is mentally fucked up and should get therapy yet no one else in the IC should? That Az is wrong for naturally shifting his feelings of love from one person to another? That he’s wrong because he didn’t “take a break”? That because of these, Az doesn’t deserve to have love and to love in general?
People are also forever stuck under the presumption that these characters are oh so evil and shouldn’t deserve love at the same time? Take Rhys for a popular example. (When it’s a book series about the ‘villain’ getting the girl. The math isn’t mathing. He’s not even a real, true villain).
No character in ACOTAR is meant to be a saint, I thought everyone knew that. (Oh my god! Morally grey characters when they do morally grey things, shocking😧)
I find most Azriel antis are literally just people who can’t put two and two together. Or just don’t like him for whatever reason they may have. (Everyone has their opinions, yes). But my god, the shallow interpretation and failure to understand his character annoys me ngl. He’s a complex character but he’s not a damn mathematical equation. (He is complex yet linear.)
“He only thought about sex in the bonus chapter.”
As if Elain also wasn’t aroused too? And gave him permission? (Omg, mutual consent! Blasphemy!)
But also the fact that they disregard Az’s noticeable and careful attention to Elain that he has shown throughout the entire series? They disregard purposefully romanticized moments?
“What happened with Elain?”
“What about Elain?”
“I’m getting her back.”
“I can imagine.”
“Would you like me to show you the garden?”
“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”
“This is Truth-teller.”
Shadows gathered around the room like snakes preparing to strike.
“Sit. I’ll take care of it.”
“Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”
“We need to get these chains off her.”
Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring [Elain]…
“She doesn’t need anything.”
“The Cauldron made you a Seer.”
“Happy Solstice.”
Staying up with her til 3 am, talking about her gardening plans.
The kiss on the cheek.
“Beautiful.”
Countless times of him gently carrying her around.
Him constantly looking out at her garden.
Him spending actual effort to get her a thoughtful gift for solstice.
Facing death itself to get her back immediately by himself.
A laugh so deep and joyous.
Looking at that headache powder every night for over a year without ever using it.
The absence of his shadows in her presence.
“His secret to tell, never hers.”
Need I go on? Azriel is always hyper focused on Elain. Always. If it weren’t for him, Elain would probably be dead or in more trouble than she ever would have been before.
If all Azriel cared about was slipping under Elain’s dress, why did he attend to her so? Why is he hyper aware of her? Why is he so assertive with her needs over anyone else? Even over Nesta? Why would he feel the need to defend her against Nesta, her own sister, if it called for it? Why does he respect her and Lucien’s boundary by refusing to have eyes on Lucien for the sake of their privacy? Why was he the only one to show initiative over anyone else to get Elain back to safety now rather than later, by himself, even if it meant certain death?
But yeah, all he wants is her body. Right? Yeah, that makes sense…
I’m just saying. No main SJM character would ever go through so much effort just to bed another character. Thats not SJM’s style nor is it logical in the slightest.
But oh yes, he feels entitled to her and her body…
…Entitled?
Wrong E word.
Envy ≠ Entitlement.
Feeling Envious of the love that his brothers have? Of the bonds they have with the other sisters? Yet he’s the only one left all by his lonesome? He feels left out. Third wheeled. And rationally so. He’s happy for his brothers but envious all the same. (As if Cassian didn’t feel the same but no one said shit about him did they?)
I’ve said this in another post too but he is NOT looking at Elain and going “she should be mine.”
He doesn’t even think he deserves her for freaks sake.
Rhys doesn’t really know Azriel. Cassian doesn’t really know Azriel. No one truly knows Azriel. The only one who has truly understood some semblance of Azriel is Elain. Even when his heart and feelings are so incredibly gated off from everyone.
So that word —entitlement— that people keep throwing around from Rhys’ lips is completely misguided.
The sheer mischaracterization makes me see red 💀
But back to the point, with obvious and mutual romantic feelings, being horny is normal. (This is also an adult romantasy series, shocking that there’s sexual content).
I’ll die on that hill for Az and Elain.
I don’t get how it can be this hard, but maybe it’s just me.
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🤍 Venus - The essence of beauty.
शुक्र - Shukra is known as Venus .
In Sanskrit , Shukra (Venus) means clear or bright. He is also known as the Guru of the the Daityas - the powerful but demonic beings. ( In whom ignorance , selfishness, dullness , greed is more high ) . These are the most difficult students & difficult lessons to learn . And these are also the traits that are also within us that lead us away from our true self .
There's deeper meaning to it .
Venus signifies beauty , material wealth , sensuality, Art , love , sex , creativity, relationships, great depth of understanding , soft & tender feelings , comforts , addictions , and most importantly spiritual wealth too.
On a superficial level Venus grants outward beauty , good relationships , love , sex , material wealth & possessions but on a deeper level , Venus is clarity & illumination . It represents the true essence of beauty which can only be felt within , the clarity we attain after realising our true self , the love we discover for our all parts of personality - the soft tender & the rough rejected dark edges . Understanding our selves and thus the compassion we feel for ourselves , the brightness of our hearts .
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Venus also represents our relationships. How our relationship is with our inner world reflects in our outer relationships & world as well. 💌
🤍 When we establish and honor our need for quality time for solitude , we are able to connect with something permanent within. The silence & the depth of stillness. And in that stillness , true love blossoms . This love encompasses not only ourself but all others.
☘️ It's significations - singing , painting, literature , dance etc carry the song of the soul . It's for its own sake. The blossoming happens within & the fragrance shares itself & thus attracts. 🪷💚
🌻Sex is another way to transcend the boundaries of our timid self and experience that unification with everything & nothing .
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🤍 Venus also teaches us that lower levels of addiction are in itself just inadequate ways to obtain that true understanding and love . It's the teaching as well as a lesson. You can get lost in the Mirage of Maya ( Illusion) that Venus creates or you can see through it and realise what really matters. The truest , most intimate love relationship you will ever have is with yourself first.
🤍 In solitude , silence , stillness & with proper guidance , in the environment of pisces , Venus finally gets to emit it's true brilliance. It's true face.
🪷The understanding that the other is the self too.
🪷That there's only oneness. Letting go of our boundaries & merging.
🪷That You and I are one on the deepest Level. That god is everything & nothing . And this is the reason why Venus is exalted in pisces in the sweet tender creative nurturing last Nakshatra of the karmic zodiac cycle - Revati. 🤍 Total dissolution , transcendence & Realisation of self.
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💌Life itself is art & thus living intensely & fully in the moment . The beauty , terror & the adventure . Venus teaches us the tantrik way of living . Immersion and witnessing .💌 Simultaneously.
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balkanradfem · 1 year
Text
Holy practices and tradition that are okay and universally good:
making trees, forests, mountains, rivers, seas and springs holy places
protecting them and going there for special occasions
planting holy trees as a religious practice
making animals sacred and protected
promoting the communal instinct to help others who need help
solving the housing and starvation crisis
promoting peace
promoting the freedom of choice, human rights, healthy boundaries, freedom of thought, and survival resources and safety for everyone
meeting up to listen to stories and legends of the past, which come with wisdom and promote healthy morals and community
meeting up to sing together
celebrating life, freedom and happiness
creating art in celebration of life and happiness
connecting with cycles in nature, celebrating natural occurrences
acknowledging that women are the source of human life and that they have the sole right to make decisions over that sphere
rituals and decorations to cheer people up when the seasonal depression is up due to the lack of sunlight
Holy practices and traditions that are absolutely unacceptable:
promoting suffering, subservience, poverty, starvation, sacrifice and endless servitude as the only ‘correct’ and moral way to exist
rituals where everyone has to listen to a man speaking for an hour or longer
repeating stories where the moral is to submit, to give away your personality, identity, even friends and family, in order to serve ‘the greater good’, promotion of ‘don’t think, don’t doubt, don’t ask questions’, or, stories talking about the horrors that would happen to non-believers, where the goal is to terrorize children who ‘don’t believe enough’
promoting the depictions, statues and art, of suffering, body harm, slow and torturous death, glorifying such images as ‘holy’, celebrating torture and death in essence
promoting an idea that the only humans who are ‘pure and saint’ earned their sainthood by being brutally murdered or tortured
limiting what women can and cannot do, punishing and shaming women’s bodily functions, or telling them that certain body functions must be used for the sake of ‘god’ or cannot be intervened with because of ‘god’
shaming women’s normal and healthy feelings, emotions, urges, desires, sexuality and appearance
telling women that their rightful place is to be ‘property’ or ‘servants’ to the other half of population
suppressing women’s freedom of thought, women’s freedom of mind, women’s bodily autonomy, and the important decisions of her life
joining a man and a woman to live in an isolated private space where the man is in control of all major decisions, and the path of her life, while she gets to be in control of nothing
putting women’s sexuality under men’s control, allowing men to violate it or ignore it at their own will
telling women they’re responsible for male’s predatory and perverse urges, telling women to take steps to ‘prevent it’, in which the goal is to make men not accountable for their own actions, and women ashamed for being unable to control something beyond their control
making rape of women mandatory, or normal, or acceptable, or permitted or something that should in any world be going on
threatening women and children that god can ‘hear their thoughts’ and that they are to be punished if it goes against god’s ideals
encouraging people to bond and communicate with an imaginary ‘father figure’ who takes credit for the creation of human population (which women actually did), who then argues that women should suppress themselves and be convenient and pleasing to men if they want to reach the imaginary afterlife
promoting the beliefs of any book that men wrote
claiming to promote peace while having a history of religious wars and spreading the idea that people of all other religions are ‘less’ or ‘sinful’ or ‘needing to be saved (converted)’
putting men in charge of anything
equating male desires to god’s desires while female desires are condemned and punished
equating purity, innocence and value in women with inexperience with physical intimacy
punishing and shaming women both for accepting and refusing physical intimacy (if they accept they lose value and are seen as tainted, if they refuse they displeased the man who wanted it, she doesn’t get any agency and whether she wants it or not is irrelevant to religion, except if she does she’s sinful)
failing to promote well-being, satisfaction, health, freedom, human rights, bodily autonomy, natural rights to administrate or refuse to administrate a human life, and overall safety and happiness of women
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hana-no-seiiki · 4 months
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Saw that post you made a little bit ago and was hit with an idea (ow)
A yandere that tries so damn hard to hold themselves back from crossing boundaries because while their love is, in fact, incredibly twisted and probably unhinged, they do love their darling. Hearing that Darling never had anyone respect them the way they deserved really grinded their gears. So the Yandere asks for permission before giving hugs, kisses, ect.
Is it out of genuine respect? Is a ploy/plot to gain Darling's affection a bit faster? Up to you, I'm very tired. I'll also let you decide how successful the Yandere is at Not Crossing Boundaries
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My yans in general are yans because they have no sense of boundaries, do not care about these boundaries, or expect you to have no boundaries because they have none themselves.
I think the only yans in my roster that will definitely respect that in a direct sort of manner are the Midnight Darling (Yan! College) ones. Purely because the reader there is at the top of the foodchain and they have a system for organization’s sake. Most of them would still stalk you, or ‘feel’ you indirectly by taking your stuff. But if you ever voiced it out, they’ll make sure that no one messes with the lines you’ve set.
That being said, they do expect a reward and will very much coax it out of you if not outright force it if enough time has passed by that they get impatient.
Try not to implicate who didn’t respect your boundaries, unless you want them dead or humiliated to death. Though I do see them hunting your family members down since that’s where stuff like that usually happens eitherway (totally not speaking from personal experience h a h a)
Particularly speaking, Justin (Yan! Jock) is actually the best at keeping his hands to himself. He’s great at adjusting. You just have to not tick him off or intentionally provoke him and he’d basically do whatever you wish. He cares more for how he can serve you rather than how you can reciprocate his feelings.
Amir is also very good at respecting your boundaries. Physically speaking at the very least. He is incredibly bad at verbal boundaries and can easily say something real bad at the worst times, but he does apologize and feels awful afterwards. He does awkwardly hover over you sometimes and is too shy to ask for permission, so you have to read him yourself to know when to ply him with kisses.
The worst for respecting your boundaries would be Yichen (Yan! Himbo)
What are boundaries? You’ve been bros for forever! Friends don’t have boundaries! You guys should always be open to each other! And y’know what he’s been feeling rather pent up lately. Won’t you be a dear and jerk him off as you sit prettily on his lap?
God while his is more innocent in nature, there’s also someone I haven’t written specifically here yet but have been brainrotting in dms w/ @not-a-bot-just-shy . Caterpillar (Yan! Ex Goon/Now-A-Villain) who just doesn’t care entirely. You’re hers whether you like it or not. Who are you to set boundaries when she owns you? Possessions don’t have rights much less should have the ability to say no.
She’s very similar to The Scientist (it’s in the name) who doesn’t even see you as human. Reader in that story is a monster so it makes sense but 🤷‍♂️ i dunno sounds kinda fucked up-
but yeah, a lot of my ocs are crap at it ngl. They’re needy sluts.
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spectorcomplex · 2 years
Text
—WE NEED MUSIC! e.munson x reader
you’re more madonna, blondie, and bowie and eddie munson has to find common ground to save your life
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pairing: eddie munsox x fem!reader (she/her pronouns) 
warnings: swearing, descriptions of blood, cuts, wounds, drowning. 
word count: 3.7k
my masterlist
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Nancy Wheeler has it all. The beauty, brains, and ferocity. But unbeknownst to the majority of Hawkins, what she lacked was a friend. You two have shared classes before, exchanged kind smiles in the halls, and even engaged in small talk whenever the opportunity presented itself. But the two of you never truly got to know each other— until Senior Year. 
The summer air still lingered as it slowly intertwined itself with the fall cold when you saw the announcement on the classroom bulletin board. It was the first day of your senior year and you were already having post-graduation anxieties. Should you have participated more? To prepare yourself for college interactions? Or to be more knowledgeable and worldly—
“Miss Y/L/N.” The teacher’s stern voice broke you out of your stupor. You quickly hung your head as a weak form of an apology but your eyes discretely lingered on the paper pinned to the board. 
Shortly after that, you pushed all inhibitions aside, dug out the converse shoebox containing wrinkled papers, and submitted a small compilation of the short stories you’ve written over the past few years to The Weekly Streak. 
You had gotten more than you bargained for. The editor-in-chief of the school newspaper, Nancy Wheeler herself, excused you from Calculus class to gush about how the news staff loved your writings. The Weekly Streak was only looking for contributors but Nancy convinced them to give you a full-time spot.
If you want it, of course.
Of course, I want it, Nancy. If it means getting pulled out of Calculus more then yeah. 
She laughed, you laughed, and the rest was history. 
—+—
You really wished your history going forth with Nancy consisted more of laughing and gossiping while painting your nails and not getting your skin ripped apart by interdimensional-tentacle-vampire hybrid bats.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” You groaned as more of the creatures tried to tear into your flesh. “We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die!”
“Don’t be so pessimistic, angel eyes!” 
If Eddie Munson wasn’t helping you to survive by smacking an oar around you would’ve wrung his neck at the nickname. You seriously regret wearing that ABBA shirt when the group dropped off food for him at that cabin by Lover’s Lake. 
The screeches stopped and all that was left was an eerie static in the air and Steve Harrington softly crying out in pain. 
Never in a million years would you have thought that you’d end up in an alternate dimension of your hometown with probably the most random combination of people. “The Freak” and “The King” and you three girls. 
It was scary how quickly you were accepting that this entire predicament you found yourself in was real. Nancy never held back when opening up to you, her relationship with Steve, with Jonathan, her brother, the misogynist pricks at The Hawkins Post and she definitely did not sugarcoat all the crazy events surrounding Will Byers’ disappearance. All she avoided was talking about Barbara but you respect her boundaries. 
It’s okay if you think I’m crazy. I’d think the same if we switched roles. 
Honestly, Nance, it sounds like the plot of those science fiction movies and you’d kill it as a scriptwriter. 
Well, you better start thinking about writing drafts about all that’s happened in the past week and what’s about to happen and submit them to a Hollywood producer. 
“C’mon, chiquitita, we need to find cover,” Eddie addressed you again. You glared at him but followed nonetheless. 
You didn’t even notice that you were mindlessly walking around a few seconds ago until Robin grabbed your forearm. 
“For both our sakes,” She chuckled. You also nearly fell into the lake that day you wore the ABBA shirt.
It wasn’t long until your group stopped again. You froze at the thought of more “demobats”, or whatever you heard Steve call it, coming your way but thankfully it was just Steve coming to a halt due to his injuries. 
Nancy immediately came to his aid and you watched in curiosity. Their glances towards each other lately were not as discreet as they think and you would’ve easily jumped in to nag Steve’s ear off to protect your best friend if he wasn’t being nice. It was odd. You were never in his line of fire when he was still in school but you saw from a distance how much an asshole King Steve was. But during this entire ‘adventure’ he was actually decent and your rudeness would be unwarranted. You saw the genuine fear in his eyes when Max Mayfield’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she started lifting off from the ground. Sure you were scared too because she’s only a child, she doesn’t deserve this but you could tell that the look in Steve’s eyes was fear coming from a place of losing a loved one. 
Steve was grunting in pain as Nancy wrapped the scrap fabric around his torso and it was only then did the sting of the bites from earlier settle in your nerves. Someone was saying something about guns but the blood pumping in your ears overpowered their voices. 
“Fuck,” You said as you eyed the red gashes. “Am I gonna have rabies?!”
“What?”  “That’s what I was saying!”
The sight of blood never did anything good for you. It always creeped you out and made you woozy. It didn’t matter if it was your own or from someone else’s wound, oh, but it was definitely way worse if it was your own. You felt like throwing up at the sight. And you were trying to keep the tears of pain at bay but it was as if all the hurt from the bats only registered now. It was probably a coping mechanism; you hated blood and everything about it and that’s why you only looked now. 
“Woah, hey,” Was that Robin or Eddie? “Y/N? Are you okay?”
Oh, it’s Munson. You could tell from the long strands of hair softly tickling your cheek. 
“She hates blood. Like really hates blood,” Nancy said in panic.
“And there’s lots of it,” Robin let out in a breath.
That seemed to alert you subconsciously and your breathing picked up until you were sure you were gasping. You’re overreacting. Steve has it much worse and he’s still standing. 
You tried to right yourself by shaking your head. Snap out of it! Then you felt a fabric, almost like a handkerchief, running over your bare arms— you hated that you ditched your denim jacket at the Wheelers— and the sight of ring-clad hands wiping away the red liquid confused you enough to distract you from the pain. 
“There you go.. okay now, Y/L/N?” You oddly felt deflated at the lack of a nickname. 
“Yeah, yeah, sorry for being such a little bitch,” You chuckled but your voice was devoid of humor. 
“You helped me by grabbing those things with your bare hands,” Steve suddenly spoke, his hands mimicking your actions. “That’s badass.”
You huffed out a thanks with a truer chuckle this time. This whole dynamic was weird but everyone’s presence was the only comfort you had right now and you would not let it slip from your fingers. 
“Let’s get moving then,” You suggested. “I heard something about Nancy’s guns?”
Said gun owner gave you a watery smile. She gently pulled you in, careful to avoid your cuts, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” You sighed. “I’m glad everyone’s okay.”
Your group got to trekking the ghastly landscape towards the upside down Wheeler house. What a mouthful. It was exhausting watching every step because of the apparent vine mechanism but your adrenaline still hasn’t run out and you hoped it would last until you got out of this literal hellhole. 
The dust particles and never ending midnight sky sent shivers down your spine. You sent a quiet prayer for all of you to make it out alive. 
“Hey,” It was Munson again. You nearly tripped backwards when he appeared next to you. 
It felt nice that he was talking to you. You’ve had English with him twice and you would be lying if you said the metalhead didn’t intrigue you. He intimidated you, sure, but there were layers to that. He was an enigma. The most interaction you had with Eddie was that group project for midterms and finals. You were probably giving yourself too much credit but you felt as if you had gotten past the first layer of his facade during that time. To everybody else, it was a teenage boy not caring for his studies, but to your keen eye it was obvious that Eddie Munson was purposefully orchestrating that appearance to the world. He submitted works two weeks late but when you got a peek, his poetry blew you away. As if it was some lyricist’s magnum opus. But you knew he had more to offer in the future and he was only going to get better from there. The piece was so good that even if it was submitted way past the deadline, the poem still got a B. 
“Hey,” You greeted back. When he didn’t reply for a minute, you followed up with a “How are you holding up?”
He looked taken aback. It was quite adorable really. You were used to his scowl and exaggerated faces to tease someone. You couldn’t find a better description for right now than puppy dog eyes.
“You’re asking me that? You, who got beaten up by bats?” Eddie asked, bewildered. 
“I mean, you’re dealing with a police investigation, a Salem witch hunt– you’re the witch by the way, and the actual supernatural all at once and you probably haven’t had a proper meal in a week,” You frowned. “And I wasn’t beat up.”
“Well, since you put it that way, it is pretty fucked up. But I’d rather deal with this Vecna jerk than the new chief of police.” He smiled this time, directly at you and it felt like a metaphorical light in this literal dark. 
“I actually kinda miss Hopper,” You shrugged. You hugged your arms to your chest. The feeling of the dried blood bothered you. “Chrissy would have already gotten her justice by now.”
It was silent after that when Eddie had no reply to your words. You feared that you said the wrong thing and your heart sinked even further. More anxiety wasn’t needed in this life or death situation. 
“Do you-” He started, Your head whipped towards his direction so fast that you felt your cheeks warm at your eagerness. “Do you think he’d accuse me? Hopper, I mean.”
This time you didn’t break eye contact. “No. He wouldn’t even name you a suspect so quickly like they did. They’re so prejudiced it’s insane.”
“Prejudice, heh,” 
“What’s funny?” You asked, eyeing his sly grin. It was a look of trouble. 
“Nothing, just,” Eddie ran a hand along his chin. This time you eyed the chunky, intricate silver rings. “I remember we were grouped for a class and you scolded poor Logan Clarke when he asked too many questions while you were trying to read your copy of Pride and Prejudice.”
You had no recollection of that memory but you couldn’t help but flash him a curious smile, “You remember that?”
“Is that weird?” He asked, suddenly looking self-conscious. When you shook your head no, his grin made a return. 
Robin was now suddenly yelling directions and you all quickly followed. The sooner the better. You had a family to come home to. And after getting out of the upside down you had to save them. You had to.
The grimey distorted version of the Wheeler house came into view and all of you stopped to catch your breath. All that was needed was to safely get into Nancy’s room and grab her weapon. The notion of having something to protect you in the upside down gave you relief. 
The other three made their way up the stairs quickly but a gentle hand on yours stopped you in your tracks. 
“Here.”
You were dumbstruck. Eddie Munson was offering you his leather jacket. You didn’t know him that well but you think you know his sentiment over the piece of clothing he was handing to you. 
You started to shake your head to refuse but he shook his head back and went around your frame to help you slip your arms into the sleeves without hurting yourself. You caught a glimpse of his pale forearms, the only marks littering it were artsy tattoos. You didn’t know why you felt relieved when he didn’t have the same teeth marks and blood on him. 
He stepped away when the jacket was finally on. It smelled of dark mahogany, real leather, and something so uniquely Eddie. One part of your brain was telling you to return it but it was warm and comforting that your tense shoulders finally had a moment to sag and relax. 
“Take it, dancing queen. You’re practically shivering.”
—+—
So close. You were so close. 
You had practically burst into tears of joy when Nancy returned to normal. You jumped back into the other side without hesitation when you heard Steve calling out to her. You felt like sinking into the floor when you saw her rolled back eyes. You were straight up sobbing and you were surprised you pulled enough strength to hold her unconscious body next to Steve. 
“Nancy!” You shook her harshly. If that was what needed to be done to wake her up while the others looked for cassette tapes then you’d shake her til your arms fell off. “Nancy, no, no, no, please. Please. No.”
Flashes of past memories came and go through your mind and you didn’t pay it attention when the present sight of your best friend at the verge of being killed is as terrifying. 
She came back with a gasp. You didn’t have time to ponder how she did come back without the physcological effects of music but you were thankful. You told her to get back to the other side, the normal side, as you watched her along with Steve. 
Steve, ever the gentleman, let you go first. You were not the most athletic so climbing up the makeshift rope was a bit of a struggle. Nancy didn’t let her exhaustion take over, not until she helped you by grabbing your hand. She was still clutching your hand by the time Steve came back and you didn’t know why suddenly the grip was almost bone crushing. 
“You’re so happy aren’t you? That everyone’s back?” Nancy said. Her voice was clear of the raspiness it had earlier. Too clear. Almost artificial, as if something was mimicking her. 
“Yes, I’m so-“ You mentally prepared yourself for it but it still caught you off guard. 
One half of Nancy’s face looked as if it was melting like candle wax. You weren’t stupid. You knew it was your turn. 
“Nancy, I—“ You started. It was probably pointless that you called her Nancy since obviously this person in front of you isn’t your best friend anymore. 
“I thought we didn’t keep secrets, Y/N.” Her ‘voice’ was pitching lower and lower that it was now scary, horror like. She sauntered towards you and kept getting closer without stopping that you fell back. Her face was so distorted to the point she looked like a corpse and you cried at the sight. 
You felt sand. Sand everywhere. But the menacing red sky surrounding you didn’t fit the scenery of a beach. A sob slipped past your lips. No no no. You cannot relive this all again. The heartbreak of everything would actually manage to kill you before this Vecna creature did. 
“Please, stop,” Such a juvenile act, covering your ears with the palm of your hands. “Please, let me go.”
Then you heard it. A chime of a clock. A booming sound that vibrated in your chest and you knew this is what haunted Max.
“Why would I do that, Y/N.” The voice was completely different now. No trace of Nancy in its echo. Your name was hissed like a taunt. 
“Just like you let me go?” The shout was so loud it forced your eyes open. And you screamed. 
—+—
“Fuck! Y/N, wake up!” 
The sight of your skin, once full of life, was now turning grayer by the minute. No sight was scarier than your eyes lacking its vibrant color as a milky white took its place. The leather jacket covering your frame looked more vibrant than your ghostly appearance. 
Everybody’s hands were shaking. Nancy’s as she helplessly shook your body. Max’s and Robin’s as they went over the piles of cassette tapes that were most likely not going to have your favorite bands. Dustin and Lucas’ as they each set up a boom box and a cassette player with headphones just to be safe. But all these precautions were going to be in vain if they didn’t find a song that will pull you out of this godforsaken curse. 
“No, no, hey, hey!” Steve desperately clutched onto your wrists as he saw the first sign of your feet lifting off the ground. 
—+— 
“I didn’t mean to,” You shook your head. The tears were overflowing now. “I’m sorry, you know I’m sorry. I regret it every single day of my life.” 
“Do you now?” The face of your cousin was as distorted as Nancy’s. But this felt a lot more eerie as the last time you saw it was when—
You screamed in utter fear as the face and body morphed again but this time it wasn’t into another person. A monster. With vein like lines crawling all over their giant body and surprisingly human eyes. They were cold and hateful. 
You tried to get up and crawl away, feeling the black sand scratch at your wounds, opening them up again. You cried in pain. Worse when you were pulled by your feet and dragged backwards. The pain was unlike anything you’ve felt before and you hoped that if it was your time to go, this horrendous monster would have the mercy of making it a quick departure. 
—+—
“Fuck, fuck,” 
Dustin looked over, surprised at his friend, the mighty Eddie Munson, having tears well up by his eyes.
“I-I know she likes ABBA–shit! I don’t have anything like that, fuck. Fuck!” Eddie was carelessly tearing through his collection. Most of these cost a good amount of money but right now he couldn’t even think about anything like that when saving you was his top priority. 
This had already happened once in his home and he was not about to let it happen again. 
“Anything close! Like a soft rock or something that sounds like pop! Anything—anything!” Nancy was sobbing now. She couldn’t let another best friend of hers be taken away from her. 
Suddenly, a tape with a black cover and gold lining was in Eddie’s grasp. This is the closest he can get away from his heavy metal. 
He raised it to Nancy so she can look but she was teary eyed and trying to grasp onto your legs. Eddie showed it to the person closest next to him, Robin, who nodded.
“I think she listens to them. It’s worth a try.” Robin’s deep voice was raspier than usual as fear consumed her eyes that were looking over at you. 
Eddie gave a mumbled sorry to the Sinclair siblings as he practically shoved them out of the way to place the tape into the boom box and pressed play. The sound was surely going to draw attention from the neighbors but it was just a famous song playing so all they could hope for was that there will probably be no danger. 
—+—
“You left her there to drown, Y/N,” You swear you heard Vecna tsk. The creepy, sluggish vines slithered towards you and were tightly wrapping around your limbs. 
This was the end. 
But just the beginning. Of a song. Of hope. Of a familiar song you would scream to when you had the chance to be home alone. 
Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me
“You are going to die today, Y/N, you are going to drown. Just like your beloved cousin did.”
You shut your eyes. It was an accident. You were a child. You have not fully forgiven yourself but what is important you were in the process of it. 
It hurts. Every single day you feel the pull of guilt and you may never be without it, but you were living in the way you can still love your family. This isn’t your time. Not in the hands of a monster named after a silly game character.
Too late, my time has come,
Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time
The vines were pressing into the minor cuts on your legs. Your hands were still free and you caught a glimpse of the leather adorning your arms. You were not going to go without seeing the boy who owns this jacket. 
So you took your chance, rattled Vecna like how Steve demonstrated you did with the bats, and fled for your fucking life. Your knees were killing you, the cuts all over your body were determined to slow you down, but not even this beast could defeat Freddie Mercury.
You didn’t look back. Only let the sound of Queen consume you with hope as you saw the image of your friends hold onto your body. It was the light at the end of the tunnel. 
And when the operatic section hits, you felt connected with yourself once more before falling into carpeted ground. 
You vaguely heard a female voice saying they were going to get a glass of water. Something small and cold pressed against the side of your neck and you just knew. 
“You had Queen?” You teased with a broken voice. 
You heard a collective sigh of relief and never felt happier. A hand gently smoothed over your tangled hair. 
“Yeah, thank god, I wouldn’t know what I would’ve done with myself. I better start calling you Killer Queen now, eh?”
That nickname doesn’t sound so bad. 
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my first stranger things fic :> please reblog if you enjoyed it <3
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Note
advice on making a villainous god less ‘evil for the sake of evil’ especially if they’re omnipotent/omniscient in some way
Avoiding "Evil for the Sake of Evil" Character
1 - Give them a solid motivation and goal. "Evil for the sake of evil" characters occur when characters do evil things for no reason or for superficial reasons (because they can, because it's fun, etc.) So, what does this villainous god want and why do they want it? What are they trying to accomplish? How do the evil deeds help to accomplish that?
2 - Give them a related back story. Now that you know what they're trying to accomplish and why, what happened in their past that made them want to reach this goal? What led to the mindset or situation that made them want to achieve this? Giving them a back story that makes their motivation/goal make sense brings reason to what they're doing.
3 - Give them lines they won't cross. "Evil for the sake of evil" villains usually don't care about anything, including boundaries. So, give your villain lines they won't cross... things they would never do, a type of harm they would never cause, or beings they would never harm.
4 - Make them oblivious, misguided, or determined - "Evil for the sake of evil" occurs when a villain is aware that what they're doing is evil and they just don't care. So, one option is to make the villain completely oblivious to the harm they're causing or the true implications of that harm. So, it's not that they know and don't care, it's that they don't even know. Another option is to have them be misguided in some way, like maybe they think the harm they're causing is okay because ___?___. One common option is the "for the sake of the greater good" argument. Like, they're ridding the land of magic and imprisoning all magic doers because they believe no magic makes for a better/safer world. A final option is to make them aware of the harm they're causing, and sorry about it, but they are so determined to reach their goal they see the harm as an unavoidable byproduct of what they must do. It's not that they don't care about it... they do... it's just less important than their end goal. And I want to point out that none of these things make the character sympathetic or absolve them of their evil, it's just that it creates depth behind the evil they're doing... they're not just doing evil to do evil.
5 - Consider a redemption arc - One potential way to sidestep the "evil for the sake of evil" villain is to give them a redemption arc. Through the course of the story, their eyes slowly open so that they see the realities of what they're doing... who they're harming, why it's bad, learning the truth behind whatever belief had them misguided, or learning the realities they weren't aware of when they were oblivious. Having their attitude change so that they stop doing the harm they're doing. This won't work for every villain, but it's something to consider.
I hope that helps!
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hsgucci94 · 11 months
Text
The CEO - H.S.
Summary: The one where you, 25, confessed your feelings for Harry, your 38 year-old boss, but then he showed up at your doorstep.
Word count: 3.6k
A/N: feel free to leave feedback at the end cuz I’m not really sure about this one to be fair 🫣 x
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You were caught off guard when you opened your front door and found Harry standing on the other side. His eyebrows were frown, and his curls messy as if he had ran his fingers through them uncountable times in the last minute. He was still dressed in his office attire, his suit jacket perched in his arm and the last two buttons of his white shirt undone.
God knows you weren’t expecting to see him any more that night. If fact, you weren’t expecting to see him ever again after your last encounter.
It happened unexpectedly, and you were sure that was karma. Your karma for falling for a man you shouldn’t have.
Harry Styles was the CEO of the enterprise you worked at, and despite having your own degree and a freshly acquired master’s, you happened to be stupid enough to sleep with him not once, but multiple times.
From the very first day you’d made such mistake you two were just supposed to stay friends with benefits. Well, not friends. He was your boss, after all. But just strictly share a sexual relationship, with no strings attached.
Everything turned around when, once again, you were dumb enough to catch feelings for him and actually confess them out loud. You should have known this was not one of those romcoms or cheesy novels you liked to read, because it definitely didn’t have the outcome you expected. He didn’t return the feelings, and if anything he felt awkward and uncomfortable once you worded them out. The air in his bedroom room became so thick so soon after your confession you quickly got up, put on your clothes and left, embarrassed to the core, but kind of relieved to have been courageous enough to express your feelings to him. You saw the chance and took it, and for that you were proud.
When you arrived at your flat that night you texted him, apologising for somehow overstepping his boundaries. He made it seem like everything was fine after that, but when Monday arrived and you ran into him on the corridor, he didn’t even make eye contact with you. He’d usually greet you with a swift move of his head followed by a discreet smirk, but not anymore. If he wasn’t busy on his phone whenever you passed by, he’d pretend he was, and his efforts to ignore you for the following two weeks pissed you off more than his lack of decency. He was 38, for God’s sake! Wasn’t he supposed to be the mature one?
It was safe to say you weren’t expecting him to show up at your front door that night, although you didn’t allow your surprise to let your guard down. Harry had been giving you the cold shoulder for days and now you were going to return the gesture, not because you were immature, but because you had a pride and the right to show indifference, too.
“Why are you here?,” you spoke in an stern tone, body rigid next to the door. You were dressed in your pj’s, and if he had knocked a few minutes later than that you wouldn’t have opened up because it would have been past your bed time, even if it was a Friday night and barely 11 p.m.
Maybe you just shouldn’t have. Maybe allowing him on your front door was another mistake.
You saw his muscles relax as soon as he heard your voice, but his deep frown and strong stare stayed untouched. Harry’s eyes scanned every inch of your countenance, his lips slightly parting when you felt his gaze reaching your soft ones.
“Because you are mine,” he mumbled, too hypnotised by your mouth to look anywhere else.
“What?,” you retorted, confused.
“I said you are mine.” His eyes moved up to yours, and his green pupils brightened just before darkening. He didn’t smell of alcohol, he didn’t even look high, just drunk on something, an emotion even, you just weren’t capable of explaining which one.
You gulped. “No.”
Your gaze stayed on his, challenging.
Then something in you clicked and you finally understood what had brought him there. Such reason only pissed you off more than his unannounced presence, so much you had to verbalise it. “Fuck off, Harry.”
You and him unexpectedly ran into each other at the restaurant you were both having the dinner at that night. His was a business supper, while yours was a date. You hadn’t meant to, but now it looked like it struck a nerve on him. Seeing you with someone else, giggling and flirting with another man had caused something in him to shift, and apparently pushed him straight to your flat that night. Two weeks of texting, calling and even trying to reach him in his office did nothing. But, oh, did it do him seeing you moving on with someone new.
Harry simply shook his head at your previous words, although the gesture was cautious enough for you to peek a small smile between his lips.
“You know I wanted to be yours, but you made me change my mind,” you mumbled, frustration palpable in your voice.
“I needed time to wrap my head around it.”
You let out a dry laugh, “Yeah? And ignoring me at work has given you that?” It wasn’t the fact that he didn’t return your feelings back then, he was allowed not to, but he needn’t to be a prick about it afterwards. His lack of tact after your unasked love confession made you feel like you’d been nothing but a toy to him. A disposable someone.
“I told you at the very beginning I don’t do relationships.”
“And I accepted that, the same way I accepted you don’t like me back. So now if you excuse me, I’d like to go to bed. Good night,” you went on to close the door and leave him in the dark on the other side, but he was quick to slide his foot between the wooden piece of furniture and the doorframe. You followed his now trapped shoe with your eyes all the way up until they reached his face, where your eyes locked.
“I’m not here to fuck it up again,” Harry spoke in a low voice, almost pleading when he added: “Let me in.”
No. You wouldn’t do that. You’d grant him more of your time, but not a chance of him getting closer to you. Not anymore. Last time he did, it didn’t end good for you, and you’d learnt your lesson. You were a quick learner, after all, or so he liked to praise you for.
“I’ve got two minutes. Whatever you’ve got to say, better be quick,” and you leaned your body in slightly forward to show him there was no trespassing that night.
He responded with a firm nod of his head, taking a deep breath afterwards while he passed a hand through his curls and messed them up a bit more.
“Listen. It’s not that I don’t like you back. I don’t want to like you back, which is a completely different thing. Already divorced once, Y/N, relationships aren’t exactly my thing.”
“I asked for us to date, not for your hand in marriage.”
Harry chuckled slightly at your answer, but your tone hadn’t been sarcastic or meant to be funny, more like irritated. It pissed you off the way he was so quick to push you away after that confession of yours.
"I know, baby. I know." The way the pet name rolled out of his tongue had your stomach flipping over, and for that you wanted to punch the air. How was it possible for you to want nothing to do with him anymore, but get your heart racing as soon as he called you baby? "But I'm not planning on getting to know you better just for us to break after a couple of months. If I'm gonna do this, I need to be sure it'll be for as long as possible."
No more divorces, no more nasty breakups. He was so fed up with feeling so emotionally dragged and used, and would only risk it if he knew you weren’t planning on leaving him any time soon.
"I freaked out and became adamant about what we could be. And for that... you can't blame me," he continued, cautiously mumbling the last sentence. You knew what he was referring to, you just wished he would have come to you to talk sooner. You had no intention of breaking his heart. "I'm a fucking mess, but I'm also a narcissist, arrogant, son of a bitch and when I saw you at the restaurant with that guy... Fuck, did I make up my mind fast," he growled, the muscles on his jaw tightening afterwards.
"Was kinda hoping for that... Kinda wanted you to hurt a bit seeing me with him. Wanted you to care at least enough for that," you spoke in a low voice, feeling a bit embarrassed now that you were admitting it to him.
"It worked," the side of his mouth lifted in a bittersweet smile, "For once I wanna make it right, Y/N. I..." he let out a puff of air, "I want to see where this takes us."
You quietly nodded. The anger, frustration and confusion you had felt earlier was no longer there. His words and confessions had softened your heart, and now you couldn’t help but feel the warmth and safety and tenderness you always felt inside you whenever he was around. And you wanted those emotions to stay there forever, so you stretched your arm and curled your fingers inside one of his empty pant clips, closing the step that kept you apart and pulling him to you, chest to chest. When you had him where you wanted, you wasted no time and lifted your chin up until your lips locked. Your mouths glued to each other's like magnets pulled by a higher force you were both very aware of since the very first time you slept together.
Something felt different back then.
Everything felt different back then, and you finally understood why with that kiss.
The longing feeling of his lips on yours was not enough, however. You needed more. Needed more warmth, more safety. You needed to know he was fully yours. So you parted your lips as your wandering hands made their way up to his curls, caressing his hips, arms and shoulders until they buried themselves inside his dark chocolate hair. Harry was quickly to follow your command, his tongue entering your mouth and playing with your own with so much fervour you could have melt right there and then. His arms wrapped around your lower back, grip tight to make you understand he was not letting go.
Your tongues fought; your tongues spoke and exchanged all the unspoken confessions and feelings that consumed you inside. All the time apart finally coming to an end with that declaration of intent.
"Fuck, baby-," he groaned after your lips unattached, his voice raspy and doing unholy things to you already, "Eager, aren’t you?"
You smiled, hypnotised by his green eyes, his shy dimples and slick smirk. Drunk on him after only that one taste. "You’re to blame, sir."
"Good," he replied, shaking his head a bit. The hand that wasn't holding his suit jacket behind your back moved up to your jaw and he passed his thumb over your slightly swollen lower lip, his eyes following its every move. "Good, this is the kind of stuff I wanna be guilty of."
With his hands still on place and his eyes on your face, Harry walked inside your flat, taking you with him as you blindly walked backwards. He closed the door with his foot, and soon enough the back of your knees reached your dinning room table. You gasped the moment you staggered back a bit, but his hold on you only became tighter, steadying you against his chest as a reflex reaction.
"I've got you."
"Thanks," you mumbled against his shirt.
He smiled with dimples and all, before helping you sit on the table. Your legs were parted –well, he parted them, only so that he could stand between them and have better access to you. Harry's hands came to lay on your knees, caressing your thighs with soft, innocent strokes, and he kissed your nose seconds before he rested his forehead against yours and sighed.
Happily sighed. Like a kid after stuffing themself with their favourite candy, like anyone would do after a good day. Because today was a good day. Everything turned out okay, and for that he was content.
"I can't wait for Monday to grab lunch with you at midday, and for you to come pay me a visit to my office whenever Mike's giving you a headache with all the legal stuff. To actually stop in the hallway and properly greet you every time we run into each other, and to walk in and out of the building with you in hand under everyone's curios stare," he confessed.
That all sounded so dreamy, and his words so convincing for a moment you really pictured yourself spending your breaks with him, and actually walking around the building confidently knowing the man behind the big desk was the one you were driving home with. But the bubble pooped up the moment you remembered you were no longer a Styles Enterprise employee. No longer part of the legal department, and no longer a part of the big team that kept the business going. You got yourself a way out.
"I signed my resignation this afternoon, Harry," you spoke softly, watching attentively as the words sucked in and reacted to them. His face went from relaxed and hopeful to confused. He pulled away from you, his face scanning yours in search for an indication that told him you were joking.
"Why?"
"I thought we..., what happened, was a sign to move onto something else. A new workplace, a different workplace." One where he wasn’t around.
"No," he shook his head, gaze fully on you to make the imperative final, "You’re not leaving the company. I want you next to me at all times, and if I can’t always get that at least I want you around as much as posible.”
"Is that my boss or my boyfriend speaking?," you rose your eyebrows.
"Your boyfriend," he replied, savouring the taste that word left in his mouth when spoken out loud, "But if it isn’t convincing enough, take it as an order from your superior."
You rolled your eyes at that, fighting a smile.
Harry was quick to pinch your waist, "No eye-rolling outside the bedroom, Mss."
"Sorry," you giggled, and he smirked.
"That's better."
He leaned in to kiss your lips one more time. Although your mouth was no longer enough, so he moved to your neck, where he started leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses right under your jaw that gave you goosebumps. By now you were sure he knew the multiple effects he had on you, which you were convinced he always used for his advantage.
You buried one of your hands in his curls to make sure he kept his mouth glued to your skin and he smiled against it, loving how needy you became for him. Your free hand grabbed the table, keeping you as steady as possible as Harry's hands moved past your thighs and into the inside of your pj's. As soon as his fingers grasped the hem of your panties, you held your breath.
Two weeks. It had only been two weeks since he last touched you, but it now felt like an eternity. And luckily for you the agonising break was coming to an end. It had been an eternity because just a few minutes ago you would have swore you would never get to have him again, so touchy, and ready to give it all to you and more. So desperate to run his lips all over your body and use his hands to get to those spots that were beyond his reach.
But while your body was having the time of its life, your mind was actually having a hard time switching off. It was like a gear that never ran out of oil. And as per usual, you couldn’t stop thinking about work. More specifically about what you two being together would mean inside the office, the impression it’d make.
You had to speak up your mind if you really wanted to come undone that night, otherwise your thoughts would block your pleasure and, truly, that was the las thing you wanted.
"Harry...," his name coming off like a whisper, "What about... I don't want this to be a problem, though. I don't want people to use it as-"
"It won't," he interrupted you and lifted his face from your neck to press a soft kiss against your mouth, his hands now paralyzed in place. He already knew where your words were heading to, where you mind was diving into. You wanted no special treatment from anyone for being the CEO’s girl. "Because from now on I'm not interfering in your work. I'll have no saying in it. Mike will be your new and ultimate boss, alright?" You nodded, finding comfort in his words. They put your mind at ease.
Michael, aka his right hand and your Head of Department, had in that instant become the man you'd go to when things were not looking good in paper. It was no longer Harry. You didn't like that as much, not being able to go for his advice specially when work was looking messy, but it was the fair move to make. The last thing you wanted was for your colleagues to believe you were there for the money and status inside the enterprise. That you made it that far in the department because of your nice pair of tits and your ability to suck it off.
Many would still think so, nonetheless, but hopefully not all.
"We're leaving work out of this equation. I won't have it be an issue in our relationship." Harry continued, this time sweetly caressing your hips under the top of your pj's –a large old t-shirt, while he looked at you, reassuring you with his eyes what his mouth was stating. His touch was far for sensual, and you loved how quickly he could go from horny to caring, and viceversa. "So do we have ourselves a deal? You'll stay?," he asked, catching your attention by tilting his head in your direction and breaking into your line of vision, now a bit desperate to get the confirmation he was looking for. He wished nothing but to still have you on board with him and the rest of his team. In your short time working at Styles Enterprise you had become a very valuable asset. "I'll go to the office first thing tomorrow morning just to burn that piece of paper you signed."
You smiled faintly at him, before stretching your hand out and keeping it between your bodies. He didn't hesitate and shook it. "Deal," you agreed.
"Good," he nodded, a smile making its way to his face, "And don't think that just because I was fucking you on top of my desk during your breaks I didn't notice how hard you've been working this past two years, baby."
"Yeah?," you tried to not sound surprised, unaware that all this time he had kept such a close eye to your work, as well.
"Mm-hm. That's how I first noticed you," he slowly resumed the work with his hands, one lowering to get inside your parties and caress the skin just under your stomach, while the other moved up to cup one of your breasts in it, massaging the tender and sensitive skin as he pinched your nipple with his index finger and thumb, causing your breath to momentarily get stuck in you throat, "Always working late on the other end of the floor. It made me curious as to know whose sleep schedule I was ruining with overwork."
"Oh, don't flatter yourself like that, Styles,” you wanted to sound confident, a special hard task when Harry had lowered the hand inside your panties and was about to reach dangerous territory, “You didn't ruin my sleep, Law school did."
He chuckled both at your answer and hopeless status, "Can't I at least take a bit of credit for that? Or you stayed fucking till 3 a.m. at college, too?
"Specially at college,” you emphasised, humor in your voice.
"Fucking hell," he cursed to himself, throwing his head backwards, "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"
"Yup," you grinned. Regardless, exes belonged in the past, and you two were in the present, right where you needed to be. There was no need to open the Pandora's box, so you redirected the conversation. "Wait, but what was that first thing you said earlier at my doorstep? That I'm... whose?"
He smirked, "Mine. You're mine. Understood?"
"Positive. Does that make you mine, as well?"
He crushed his mouth to yours,
"It's the only way this deal works, baby."
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