#Like truly I'm imploding

[earanie]

first post high-fever clear thought: im still so fucking in love and still so fucking heartbroken about it

[hylianengineer]

Seething with rage because my DnD character might be about to die (mini boss fight, unconcious, already failed a death save, and I'm the healer), we won't get to resolve the cliffhanger for three more weeks (my job is making me do fieldwork on our game nights), and on top of everything else happening in my life right now that just feels unfair.

[averalia]

When Agencies Collied

|Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x Reader, Spencer Reid x Reader

| Summary: Your a NSA deep cover agent, and are furious after the FBI's BAU team inadvertently exposes your two-year operation.

| Warning/s: Strong language, Implied violence & discussions of trauma, Emotional distress, Confinement.

| A/N: OMG, can you feel the tension?! Your having a really, really bad day, but look super cool even when your totally ticked off! 🥺

The sterile white walls of the interrogation room seemed to press in on you, but it was the glare from the one-way mirror that truly rankled. Your hands were cuffed to the table, a stark reminder of how badly this had gone south. You were Agent [Y/N] [L/N], an undercover operative for the NSA, and your carefully constructed world had just imploded, courtesy of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit.

The door creaked open, and in walked the two agents who had been circling you like sharks since your arrest. Aaron Hotchner — stoic, sharp, and radiating an authority that usually commanded respect, but today just ignited your fury. Beside him, Spencer Reid — brilliant, observant, his eyes normally full of a gentle curiosity now held a cautious, almost accusatory glint.

"Agent [L/N]," Hotch began, his voice calm, clipped, and utterly infuriating. "We'd like to understand your involvement with the Weston group. We have evidence placing you at multiple locations where their operations were carried out."

You scoffed, a raw, bitter sound. "My involvement? You want to talk about my involvement? How about your involvement in blowing a two-year deep cover operation straight to hell?"

Reid’s brow furrowed. "We understand you're upset, but-"

"Upset?" You leaned forward, the cuffs digging into your wrists, but you barely noticed. "Upset doesn't even begin to cover it, Dr. Reid. I was this close," you held up your cuffed hands, gesturing with them, "to bringing down a major international arms trafficking ring. Two years. Two years of living, breathing, eating their lies. Two years of sleeping with a knife under my pillow, wondering if today was the day I'd get made. And you two, and your whole damn team, just waltz in and throw a grenade into all of it!"

Hotch’s expression remained impassive, but you could see a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or a dawning realization. "Agent [L/N], we followed standard protocol. Your profile matched several key indicators for association with this group. We had no information that you were-"

"No information?" You cut him off, your voice rising, fueled by pure, unadulterated rage and exhaustion. "That's convenient, isn't it? Because I'm pretty sure 'NSA Undercover' is a pretty crucial piece of information! Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? I watched them execute a man in cold blood because he owed them money. I smuggled illegal weapons across three borders. I earned their trust, piece by agonizing piece. And for what? So you could come in like a wrecking ball, all guns blazing, and make me a target for every dirty mercenary on the planet?"

Reid shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting to Hotch. "We genuinely had no prior intelligence, Agent [L/N]. Had we known you were an undercover operative, our approach would have been entirely different."

"Oh, I'm sure it would have been," you spat, sarcasm dripping from every word. "But you didn't know, did you? Because you didn't bother to check! Or your internal communication is so utterly fragmented that you're endangering agents in the field! Do you know how hard it is to build a new identity, to shed every piece of who you are, to become someone else so completely that even you start to forget the real you? I can't go back to that life now. They know my face, they know my voice, they know my name. Because you exposed me!"

Hotch finally spoke, his voice lower, more measured, but no less firm. "Agent [L/N], we understand the gravity of your situation. However, your arrest was based on solid behavioral analysis and forensic evidence. If your cover was that deep, why were there no safeguards? No emergency contact procedures, no fail-safes in place with local or federal agencies?"

"Safeguards?" You let out a disbelieving laugh. "My safeguard was not being found! My safeguard was blending in so perfectly that I was invisible! And as for 'fail-safes,' my chain of command doesn't exactly hand out gold stars for calling in every time some FBI agent wants to play cowboy! My job was to infiltrate, not to wave a flag saying 'I'm a spy, please don't arrest me!'"

You leaned back, taking a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain some semblance of control, but the anger was a roaring fire within you. "Do you have any idea how many lives are now at risk because of this? Not just mine. The people who helped me, the informants I cultivated. They're all vulnerable now. And for what? A few quick arrests that won't even scratch the surface of what I was about to uncover?"

You looked from Hotch's unyielding gaze to Reid's troubled one. "You think you're the only ones who care about justice? About catching the bad guys? I've been doing it for years, quietly, effectively. And now, thanks to your 'profiling,' I'm a ghost, a dead woman walking, and that entire network is going to scatter like roaches."

Hotch slowly pushed a folder across the table, his eyes still fixed on yours. "Agent [L/N], we've made calls. We've verified your identity. Your NSA handler is currently en route. This is a massive misunderstanding, and we will work to rectify it. But your cooperation is still vital."

You stared at the folder, then back at them, the raw fury slowly starting to mix with a bone-deep weariness. "Cooperation? You want my cooperation after you just handed my life over on a silver platter to a bunch of killers? You want me to help you clean up the mess you just made?" You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "Fine. But know this: you didn't just blow my cover. You may have just signed my death warrant. And if anything happens to me, or to anyone connected to this operation, I will hold every single one of you personally responsible."

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with unspoken apologies and the crushing weight of your accusation. Hotch and Reid exchanged a look, and for the first time, you saw something akin to genuine regret in their eyes. But it was too little, too late. Your world, as you knew it, was irrevocably shattered.

[kikithekiwi19]

I love your panty/stocking reader for invincible!!! Did you think if would be possible to see them interact with mark variant and they completly different from the reader of their world.

Also did you see it will be a new season in July?!

COOKIE JAR!

Mark Grayson Variants x Panty/Stocking Anarchy! Reader

❛❛I caught yo ass red-handed in my cookie jar.❜❜

YES I HEARD ABOUT THIS!? My days of Invincible withdrawals are coming to an end. Essentially, this is how they'd react to the reader. Be prepared for unimaginable levels of horniness. Also, no specific variant mentioned.

Let's get one thing straight. You most definitely tried to fuck a variant or two. You'd be lying if you didn't find the idea of multiple versions of your boyfriend manhandling you hot.

When you and Mark arrived on the scene, he had to physically keep you from pouncing on the variants. No matter how funny it would have been to watch. You were drooling for just a touch, cooing for them to come closer.

Some of them were deeply disturbed, they were scared shitless as thrashed around in your Marks iron grip, while others actively implored your chaos

Actually battling them was a different story.

Mark internally groaned as you bantered with his alternate. It was like you guys were practically fucking each other with your words alone.

"You know, you weren't as fun in my dimension. Killing you was a bore."

"Of course I'm better, this pussy can work magic."

"My, my, your even more bold than I imagined."

"Then why don't you come closer and see how bold I truly am, sweetcheeks~"

God, he doesn't know if he should be flattered that you loved him in every universe. Or for the fact that it only seemed to boost your already high libido tenfold.

Other then the high tensions between some of them, you guys worked in sync taking them down. Your razor sharp aim mashed well with his skills, you guys handled them with ease.

You even got to captor two of your own!

"Can we keep them?"

"God no!? They've murdered millions!"

"They could murder this pussy next!"

"Is all you do is think with your clit?!"

You did get to keep those two. Helpful for the GDA and your libido.

You hated all of them. They were all poor imitations of your beloved. So when you were put on the battlefield, you gave them hell. Blades drawn, their heavenly light reflecting in the sun as crimson splatters conceal their beauty.

Like, Mark was genuinely concerned; it was like when you'd crash out before getting your morning sugar. No matter how hot you looked, killing his alternates. He feels like an ass for being painfully hard while helping you fight.

"All of those pieces of shit should repent for even dreaming of crossing paths with me!"

"How about we go to that new bakery before you kill anyone else?"

"I knew there was a reason why I'm with you."

"What's that supposed to mean!?"

So you guys leave mid battle, not like there was a battle anymore anyways, you killed a majority of them anyways. For their safety and your sanity.

The ones you do come across along the way were barely spared a glance before attacking.

"Your stronger in this universe, perfect for the empire. Come back to my universe."

"Maybe all that fighting finally made the little brain cells you had left implode."

"C'mon, I'm better than him by a long shot."

"The only thing long is my katana as I viguriously fuck your ass with it!"

Yep, the sweet break was definitely necessary.

[grimrester]

i am really so sorry to continue harping on about the watcher entertainment streaming service. but this kind of stuff (internet content as a business & marketing it as such) is truly my obsession, and i think i will implode if i don't talk about some of the takes i'm seeing.

i'd like to emphasize again i don't have strong feelings about watcher either way. i like ghost files, i watch mystery files sometimes, i watched worth it back in the buzzfeed days. i don't watch any of their shows religiously.

anyway, here's the main things i keep seeing crop up and my thoughts on each:

"watcher has 25 employees they have to pay, and employing people in this economy is good, so we should be banding together to pay them."

employing people is good if you currently have the capacity to pay them. i checked watcher's linkedin page, and many of their employees were hired within the last year or two. if they hired people they cannot pay with the business model they had before, something is seriously wrong with their internal bookkeeping/decision making. it means they either didn't know they couldn't pay these people long term, or they did know and were content with risking newly hired employees' livelihoods on a huge content pivot in the next year.

of note is that none of their employees' titles have anything to do with managing the finances of the company. they are the size of a small business but have no one aside from the figureheads of the company in charge of their finances.

this is the kind of company decision making that leads to downsizing and layoffs, which can be devastating. but you know what's worse than laying off a portion of your staff? laying off everyone because your business is going under.

"not everyone can afford the subscription, but those who can should pay it to support the watcher team."

no. $6/month for a couple hours of content (depending on what shows you actively watch and the natural fluctuation of their release schedule) is a fundamentally bad value. i can pay that much for a few movies on amazon. i can pay that much for dropout, if i want to support a smaller business instead.

and to be totally frank, even if people do sign up, i don't think they'd get enough to compete with the amount they get through patreon/sponsorships. and the fact that they didn't know how many of their subscribers would realistically sign up is a bad sign.

a pretty good conversion rate of free to paid subscribers of a service or content is 3% (usually accomplished through a free trial). given the very poor reception of the announcement, let's say about 1% of their 3 mil youtube subs pay for their service. that's 30k people paying for their new platform. that's $180k a month in their pocket.

(they currently only have 12k subs on patreon so we are being generous here.)

a sponsorship deal (based on my googling, i have less direct experience with this) is anywhere from $10-50 per 1000 views. they've gotten about 1 mil views on their last few videos. 3 mil subs is nothing to shake a stick at, but let's say they're on the lower end of the payscale at $25 per 1000 views. that's $25k a video, $100k a month if they release 1 video a week. their lowest patreon tier is 5 bucks, so even if all their subs are at that tier, that's another $60k, so $160k total. it's entirely likely they're bringing in much more than that when you factor in merch, adsence, etc.

did anyone on their team crunch numbers on how many people would need to sub to make the switch worth it? did anyone do market research on how many people they could convert to paid users? because if not, if they really didn't have a game plan for this, the subscription service was always doomed to fail.

"this was their only option to continue making the content they want to make, with the production value they want."

i watched their announcement video. a key point in that video is that they have done sponsored videos and that's what used to pay for their content, but they did not like the amount of creative control the sponsor had over the content.

look, i get that's no fun. we'd all love creatives to be able to make whatever they want. but when you are a small business with a team of employees relying on you, you have to think about making money, sometimes at the cost of creative liberties.

and they had so many other options to make money for the projects they want to make without jumping to a subscription platform.

they could have started actually promoting their patreon, and maybe done some restructuring of the tiers. why not a highly produced, special series just for patreon members? or a special high-budget episode of each series, while the main series is lower budget?

bite the bullet and continue taking sponsorship deals on some less-produced shows, while axing sponsorships from the ones the crew feels more passionate about.

schedule larger, blowout-production shows only when they can be afforded. this is what Notorious Amongus Guy streamer jerma does. he saves up for big productions like his baseball or dollhouse streams, so he can really get creative with them.

they had other options and they've tried very little, especially when you compare them to other content house business at similar scales. try guys and good mythical morning both put out significant content with significant staff, and have had to diversify their income streams with auxiliary products, shows with widely varied levels of production, etc. but it seems to be working for them. watcher has merch and that's about it, and seems to only want to increase the production quality of ALL their shows.

really, all this just boils down to a terrible business decision. it's hard to say if the watcher team is working with a consultant or anyone outside of their team, but they certainly don't have anyone internally who is experienced with running a business like this. to me, it seems very much like they got in a room together and did some extremely optimistic income ballparking with no research behind it.

and that might have been fine for three dudes running a channel alone, but if they're a business, they have to start making decisions like one.

[bugs1nmybrain]

✨️ L Lawliet w/ a Shy & Insecure Reader Headcanons ✨️

Notes: I got real specific here. I need some validation haha. I swear if L ever complimented me I'd implode and then explode like I've done many times in the DS game (don't make fun of me >:<)

I'm adding pink text and sparkles to the title. Cope with it DN twt

Warnings: 18+!!! There is some sexy content, no gendered terms or pronouns. I tried being inclusive with the sexy stuff. Talks about poor self-esteem and insecurities. L being his rude ass self at one point. Reader described as quiet. I did indeed write L as a sweetheart, and I don't regret it one bit! :D. Not proofread

For starters, shy isn't a problem for L. He appreciates that you're quiet and relatively polite. It makes it easier for him to get away with dating you because he knows you're not going to be obnoxious around headquarters, and there's a good chance you'll never even mention that you're his partner

He finds it vry cute. Especially when you stumble over your words when he flirts with you. His pride is very comfy with you.

You are a perfect parallel play lover!!! He's grateful that you don't pester him when he's busy, but he doesn't mind you being around him. You can draw, do homework, write, play video games, anything. He just appreciates your company. He's also 100% paying attention out of his peripheral vision.

But because you're quiet, sometimes you don't share all of your thoughts with him and it can make for a satisfying relationship. L sure as shit isn't disclosing a lot of stuff, so he sees it as even

A lot of your secrets are insecurities, though. You worry a lot about your competency as a romantic partner. Whether it's your intelligence, physical beauty, personality, interests, anything really. You're always anxious that you're not enough, and not enough for him.

L knows well that you lack confidence. He's torn, actually, because he wants to see you become more sure of yourself and he'll try to help. He teaches you skills when he has time and makes sure to compliment you when you do something good. Sometimes he stretches the truth in his praises just to make you feel better. He knows you value his opinion a lot.

However, your insecure nature is an easy opening for him to get away with a lot. Nothing that serious, but secret tests are a given with L, and he does like to test if you'll push through him not given you the validation he knows you want. It actually does make him feel like 10% bad, though, and he'll make up for it.

He understands why you're insecure, but at the same time, he thinks it's silly. Especially when you admit to him that you're worried about your physical appearance or sexual abilities. It's in those moments he just wants to tell you to stop because "have you seen me, y/n?"

But yes please flatter his ego

When you started sleeping together it actually was pretty smooth and natural

I truly believe L was a virgin until you, so he probably wasn't much more confident than you

The doom of adult virginity/inexperience is that everyone expects you to be pornographic by now, and for an insecure person that can be very demanding

L doesn't expect that and won't be disappointed by something slow and "vanilla." He likes that, honestly. But of course, if/whenever you're ready for something more spicy, he's very open to communicating about it

This guy is just happy to touch you, period

If you fumble because you're nervous, he's not upset, but he'll redirect you with affirming words

He does admittedly get irritated by consistent nagging and the self-deprecating comments you make. It annoys him after a bit. He'll likely disengage to avoid hurting your feelings, but if you're persistent, he'll give it to you straight.

"The only thing you should be insecure about is that you're a broken record."

Fight the tears

It actually does make him upset when you doubt him and his love for you. It makes him feel like you don't trust him. L is aware that he's deceptive by nature, but he wants you to trust that he values you. He certainly wouldn't be in a committed relationship with you if his feelings weren't genuine

So he reminds you. Again. And again. That he wants you in his life and treasures you

You're lucky that he loves you so much

Sometimes, you'll go through periods of isolating from him because you're afraid of bothering him. Trust me. He's glad to have time to work, but he does pick up on your distance quick

You're so afraid of asking him for attention

or even just a bite of his cake. He always offers, tho.

But yea. L is a busy guy and comfortable in seclusion, so he isn't that clingy. He can go a long time without checking in on you, which doesn't help the paranoia

When he decides to take a break for once, usually his first instinct is to either 1. Get coffee or a treat, or 2. Make a bee line to see you!!

OR 3. BRING YOU FOOD TO SHARE

Know that he loves you much more than most things. You are his priority, even if his work takes precedence at times.

He'll attempt to build your trust over time because he understands how hard it is to believe in someone's honesty. It'll get better, and you'll likely start to feel more self-assured with him. L talks a lot, but he believes actions speak louder than words, so he'll show you how much he loves you through the little things because you light up his world after an exhausting day full of murder and nonstop thinking. You're home to him and he wants you to feel the same way about him.

[anyasathenaeum]

Partner (Eriks!Vash x Reader)

A/N: Howdy, everybody. Sorry for having disappeared off the face of the Earth for a while without a word. I ended up getting injured, worsened the injury and now I'm recuperating. Anyways, have this. I highly recommend listening to this song while reading since it's the song that randomly inspired me to write this. I imagined the dancing in this fic as being kind of like Regency Era dancing (think of the dancing in Pride and Prejudice (2005) or Anna Karenina (2012)). Also, see if you can find the reference to one of my other fics in this piece. Also also, thank you to all of you who still like and reblog my writings - I see each and every one of you and I'm grateful to you all. ��️❤️ Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, tearful reunions, Wolfwood being a big brother, a menace and a terrible dancer (not a warning, this is a fact) Word Count: 5.7k

One year.

It had already been one year since the destruction of Julai city, killing 90% of the population as a result.

The man looking back at Vash in the mirror wasn't somebody he recognized - this man was haggard, tired-looking and radiated a sadness that could almost be physically felt. This man, with his gaunt face, his scruffy jaw, chin and cheeks, his messy, long blonde hair, his dull and lifeless blue eyes, looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and all the suffering that came with it. This wasn't Vash.

This man was Eriks. The wanderer that was found a year ago by Grandma Sheryl and her young granddaughter, Lina, after... after...

'Don't.'

The little voice in Vash's head warned him, but the pain burned through him regardless the moment he remembered all he had lost that day a year ago.

His brother.

His freedom.

You.

And just like that, your face, so vivid and full of life with a smile as vibrant as the sun, popped into Vash's mind before he could truly stop it. The pain from before exploded into sheer agony, and Vash found himself squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to will away the image of you in his mind, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the washbasin in an attempt to ground himself.

To remember you was too painful. Too heartbreaking. Especially when the reason you had been lost was him and him alone.

The last time Vash had seen you, you'd been pulled away from him by Wolfwood as Vash fought with his twin brother, Nai. He could still hear your voice, screaming his name, trying so desperately to get to him despite Wolfwood's grip on you.

Soon after that, the city had imploded around Vash when he fell back down to the ground, and as he struggled to escape the carnage left behind, he caught no glimpse of you, saw no proof of your survival. And so, Vash was left to accept the only conclusion that remained - that he had killed you, his best friend of so many years, just as he had 90% of the residents of Julai city.

'Stop. Just stop it.'

The little voice in Vash's mind scolded him as it so often did, and when he reopened his eyes and looked into the mirror, somehow, the man looking back at him looked even more exhausted, lifeless and sadder than usual. In an attempt to distract himself and pull himself back together, Vash splashed some tepid water on his face before drying himself rather roughly.

"Eriks?" came a soft call through the door of his bedroom, accompanied by a gentle knocking. Grandma Sheryl.

Quickly pulling himself together as best as he could, Vash stood up straight and took a deep breath before walking over to the door to his room and opening it. Sure enough, there stood Grandma Sheryl, her wizened old face filled with concern and a gentle, motherly warmth, a bundle of cloth in her arms.

"Hey," Vash answered, forcing as best a smile on his face as he could manage with the lingering pain he was still feeling. "What's up, Grandma?"

Grandma Sheryl relaxed a bit, but the concern never disappeared from her face as she took in the man she considered her adoptive grandson, "Sorry to disturb you, dear. I had a favour to ask of you, and I'll be honest, it's a bit of a big favour."

"No such thing, Grandma," Vash replied immediately, waving away her concerns with gentle reassurance. "What can I help you with?"

"Well..." Grandma Sheryl trailed off, shaking her head a bit before sighing, "It's Lina. Apparently, there's some kind of dance happening tonight at the saloon in town and she's dead set on going. And you know how stubborn that girl is when she's decided on something."

This drew a small, genuine chuckle from Vash as he knew exactly what Sheryl meant - Lina was well known for her spunk, her boldness and her stubbornness despite only being all of 12 years old. "Don't we all?"

"Well, the issue is that chaperoning Lina at a dance is much harder for me now as I'm getting older. I'm afraid it's getting to be beyond my abilities to do such a thing, but I don't want her going alone. Would you be willing to go with her and keep an eye on her tonight?" Grandma Sheryl asked, her lips twisted in a frown.

Vash almost let a tired sigh slip, but he restrained himself. It was obvious that Sheryl felt bad asking this of him, as she knew he was struggling. She wasn't blind, but it was evident that she really had no other choice with this.

"Sure," Vash found himself answering before he could really think about it. "I'll go with her."

The surprise on Grandma Sheryl's face was clear, but it was quickly followed by relief, "Thank you, Eriks. I can't tell you how big a help that is. I promise, I'll find some way to repay you. In the meantime, please take these. You can wear them tonight."

Grandma Sheryl held out the bundle of cloth she'd been holding for Vash to take, and once he did, it immediately became evident to him that what she'd offered him were dress clothes, made of much finer material than his typical homespun shirts and pants.

"I hope they fit you. I borrowed one of your shirts and one pair of your pants so I could get you something that's close to your size," Sheryl admitted sheepishly, her face turning a gentle shade of pink. "I'm sorry, Eriks."

The admission pulled another small laugh from Vash as he looked down at the old woman in front of him, "You're forgiven. It was kind of you to think of me being prepared for tonight."

Vash glanced over at his bedside table, taking note of the time - it was already getting into the early evening, "Speaking of tonight, it looks like I ought to get ready."

"Right! Of course," Sheryl replied immediately. "I'll leave you to it. Lina's getting ready, too. I'll tell her to wait for you in the living room."

"Thank you, Sheryl."

Vash's reply was gentle, his voice surprisingly quiet. Deep down, he knew that his thanks was much more profound than simply for the clothes Sheryl had gifted him. It was for everything she had done for him since the first time he had crossed the threshold into her home a year ago, a mess and even worse a wreck than he was now.

With a soft, warm smile and without a single word, Grandma Sheryl simply approached him and reached up, patting his stubbled cheek with her hand gently. It seemed she understood what he had truly meant. After that moment of quiet, maternal tenderness, Sheryl turned on her heel and left him be, giving him time to get ready for the night ahead.

Vash closed the door with his hip before walking over to his bed and getting changed into the dress clothes Sheryl had bought him. The fabric felt smoother and almost silky against his skin, his numerous scars particularly sensitive to the feeling of the fabric. As he tucked in his shirt and brushed off the pants, he returned to the mirror at his washbasin to take a look at himself.

The dress shirt was a simple white button-down, but it was much classier-looking than his usual attire, with gloves to complete the upper half of his look. His pants were black and sleek and seemed to fit him perfectly. Suddenly, the man in front of him seemed to transform from haggard to rugged. Almost... handsome. Though, something was definitely missing.

After studying his reflection for much longer than was probably necessary, Vash finally figured out what it was that was missing - he had to do something with his hair. It was far too long and messy to be left down for such an event, so he did the only thing he could think of: he grabbed an elastic band from his washbasin shelf and tied his hair up in a bun. A few strands that were too short to be pulled back remained, framing his face and his glasses.

'There. Much better.'

The little voice in his head gave its approval at the sight in front of him. Tying his hair back had done just the trick.

"Well, well, well, Mr. Stampede, look at you! You clean up nicely."

The voice was so clear in Vash's mind that he believed for a moment that he had truly heard it, going to far as to look around the room for the source of it. But even as he looked, he knew it was futile - the voice he'd imagined had been yours. It was what you might've said if you'd been standing next to him, looking at his reflection with him. He could picture you standing there with him, grinning brightly at the man in the mirror, a teasing glint in your eyes.

Another hot, piercing bolt of pure agony jolted through Vash, making him flinch. In that moment, all the willpower he had had to go through with this evening left him. What had he been thinking? He couldn't do this. Not now.

How could he possibly go out, be around other people, keep an eye on Lina and pretend to be alright when it was the last thing in the world he was? How could he possibly partake in dancing, something you had loved so dearly, something the two of you had done together countless times over the years, whether it were on dance floors or sandsteamer decks? How could he face all that he had lost when his partner wasn't there to face it with him anymore?

'But you have to,' the little voice chided. 'You promised Sheryl. You owe her and Lina this much.'

Taking a slow, deep, steadying breath, Vash collected himself as best as he could, willing away his sorrow and his grief as best as he could before heading downstairs to where Lina was waiting for him. The young girl was wearing her own dress clothes, a few clips in her hair and an excited smile on her face, which only widened when she caught sight of him.

"Woah! Eriks, you look so nice!" Lina exclaimed, taking in the sight of Vash in his dress clothes.

"So do you," Vash replied, a soft smile on his face and a hint of teasing in his tone. "Turns out that you clean up nicely, you little rascal."

"Hey!" Lina retorted immediately, pouting at him. "Don't you start with me."

Raising his hands up in the air in surrender, Vash laughed, "Yes, ma'am. My apologies. Shall we get going?"

"Yes, we shall," Lina replied with a huff, but the girl couldn't fully suppress her smile as she took Vash's arm.

"Be careful, you two. And have fun!" Sheryl called from the kitchen, poking her head out to smile at her family.

"Thanks, Grandma! We will!" Lina called back for the both of them, smiling at her grandmother and waving. "Love you!"

"Love you, too!"

The walk to town was filled with banter and teasing, jokes and sass, as conversations between Lina and Vash typically were. The young girl's excitement about the dance seemed to be contagious, as Vash found himself feeling more relaxed and excited than he had in a very long time. By the time they got to the saloon, they could see and hear how busy it had already gotten - laughter, talking, music and sounds of glasses clinking and chairs being moved could be heard from outside the saloon itself.

"Dang, looks like the whole town was excited for this," Vash chuckled, more to himself than to Lina, but the young girl answered him anyways, "Yeah! All the kids in my class were talking about it since the start of the week!"

Sure enough, when they got inside, the saloon was more alive than Vash had ever remembered seeing it. Decorations dangled from the second-story balcony, and the entire town seemed to have joined the party, with people sitting and standing wherever they possibly could. The only place that had some open space was the dance floor, so dance partners could dance without trampling each other.

"Oh, look! There are my friends!" Lina shouted abruptly over the volume of all the talking and laughing, drinking and eating around them. She waved to a group of kids her age, all of whom waved back to her excitedly before beckoning her over.

"Go on. Have fun. I'll be by the bar if you need me, okay?" Vash encouraged her with a soft smile.

"Thanks, Eriks," Lina replied, giving him a big hug with her small arms wrapped around his waist and her face pressed against his chest before heading off to join her friends, who eagerly greeted her.

True to his word, Vash made his way through the crowd towards the bar, only stopping briefly to exchange some small talk with townsfolk who knew him. As he spoke with them, however, he suddenly caught a familiar scent that stopped him mid-sentence - your scent. It wasn't a perfumey or cologney smell, but your scent, the scent of your skin, the same scent Vash often caught and secretly cherished whenever the two of you had shared a bed and slept side by side, more often than not ending up with your limbs entangled together by morning.

He looked around frantically, trying desperately to see if he might catch sight of you in this tightly-packed crowd. His heart began to race faster than it had in the past year, and the sounds of the saloon became muffled as he focused, searching for any sign of you. That scent... there was no way that, too, had been a figment of his imagination. It had been faint, but it was definitely real.

Vash searched and searched the endless sea of faces, his heart beginning to ache from how fast it was beating against his ribs. It felt as though his heart would burst out of his chest and lead him straight to you. It was calling to you, calling to its other half, begging you to answer him, to be here with him, to soothe him, hold him, love him and comfort him after all he had been through.

For the past year, he had believed you were as good as dead, but he had never gotten any true confirmation of that. It had been too painful to even think of you, let alone take action.

So maybe... just maybe...

Yet, the longer he searched, the quicker his hope began to die. There was no sign of you anywhere. But just as Vash began to give up his search for you, something caught his eye in an opposite corner of the saloon from where he was standing - a giant cross, wrapped in cloth and bound by a strap, leaned unassumingly against a wall.

The Punisher.

There was no way Vash could ever mistake it. He knew that gun well, and he knew its owner even better. And standing there, leaned against the wall next to his gun, was Wolfwood himself. The undertaker looked tired and even gently annoyed as he studied the crowd carefully, but Vash watched as the man's eyes softened as he caught sight of something. Or rather, someone.

A figure approached the undertaker, holding two glasses. The figure offered one glass to Wolfwood, keeping the other for themselves and taking a sip before turning to face the crowd.

As he caught sight of your eyes, your face, Vash felt his heart stop.

You were here.

You were here and you were alive.

Vash felt his breath hitch as he took you in from where he stood, all the way on the other side of the saloon. In that moment, the world seemed to fall away - there was nobody else in the room except for you and him.

'You're here. You're alive,' the little voice in Vash's mind repeated the same thought, over and over again, on an endless loop.

You looked much the same as the last time Vash had seen you in Julai. But one thing that caught his attention was just how tired you seemed. Your posture, the way you held yourself, with your shoulders curled forward, made it seem like you carried the weight of the world on your shoulders. Your expression wasn't the calm or happy one he remembered. Instead, your face was a mask filled with sadness, your eyes dull as they flitted aimlessly across the crowd. You almost seemed... unwell, somehow.

Something about you, even like this, felt eerily familiar to Vash. And then, it hit him; you looked the same way his reflection had looked earlier today.

The ache in Vash's heart at that realization was enough to make his eyes sting. It was clear that you were hurting just as much as he had been all this time. Of course you were hurting; you'd lost him just as he'd lost you. How could you not be hurting?

Before he could stop himself, Vash found himself moving, pushing through the crowd in a desperate attempt to get to you. He had to get to you. His life, his very existence, depended on him getting to you as soon as he possibly could. He didn't care about anything else, he couldn't care about anything else, not when you were here in the same saloon as him after a year of being apart. After a year of believing he had lost you for good.

But before he could make it to you, the music for another round of dancing started up, and the crowd shifted as eager dancers took to the floor, rushing in front of Vash and blocking his path to you. It made him want to scream, to yell at every person who kept him from you for even a second longer. He wanted, no, needed to reach you, to confirm you were really here, to hold you, to cry in your arms and beg your forgiveness for all the pain and grief he had brought you, to thank every deity in existence for your survival. He needed you.

As Vash struggled to find his way through the crowd to you, though, the tune that was playing caught his attention. He recognized the song as being the tune for a popular dance well-known across No Man's Land, a dance shared typically by lovers. You and him had danced together many a time to this song, you both knew the dance through and through and could dance it even without the music guiding you. In fact, you had done just so on many a sleepless night, with nothing but the desert wind as your orchestra.

So much had been up in the air between the two of you back then. Nothing was straightforward or particularly clear, the lines between you and Vash blurred. Neither of you really ever knew what the relationship you shared was. Were you just friends? Were you more? The two of you were certainly much closer than just friends should be, knew more of one another than friends would, but... neither of you acted on it. Neither of you took the leap to ask the question that would clarify it all. And so, the two of you remained stuck in that strange world of the in-between, not really just friends, but not really lovers, either.

But now, as Vash fought to get to you, to be reunited with you after grieving you for a year, there was no doubting it anymore - you were his everything. You were his life, his better half, and he loved you more than anything and he had to tell you that.

Vash could see Wolfwood saying something to you, gesturing to the dancefloor, his expression softer than Vash had ever seen it. Wolfwood seemed to be encouraging you, and given his gestures, it seemed like he was trying to get you to dance with him. But the sheer pain and sadness in your eyes and on your face as you looked back at Wolfwood made it plain how you felt about dancing. It hurt Vash's heart to see you refusing to do something you had so dearly loved, but deep down, he also found himself feeling weirdly comforted that it was likely due to how much it (and by extension, he) had meant to you.

Wolfwood was persistent, though, and after a little while of talking to you, Vash could see your expression becoming more open as you became more receptive to his encouragement. Then, Vash watched you let out a deep breath before putting down your glass on a nearby table, Wolfwood doing the same before he took your hand and almost dragged you to the dancefloor.

Within seconds, it was evident that Wolfwood had no idea what he was doing. He wasn't a dancer, despite being a good fighter, and he very clearly didn't know the dance, his attempts clumsy at best. But still, admirably, Wolfwood persisted, doing his best to dance with you and make you happy. In any other situation, Vash might've laughed at the scene, but right now, all he was focused on was getting to you.

Then, with a sudden flash of inspiration, he knew exactly how to get to you. There would be a moment in this dance where you and Wolfwood would step away from each other as part of the steps, and given that Wolfwood would come towards where Vash was standing, he could easily step in and take Wolfwood's place. He had only mere seconds to get into position on the edge of the dance floor as he knew that dance step was coming shortly based on the music.

As the music flourished, you and Wolfwood went your separate ways on the dance floor as anticipated, with Wolfwood approaching the edge of the dance floor where Vash was standing while you went the opposite way.

The world seemed to slow as Vash stepped forward onto the dance floor, swiftly stepping in and taking Wolfwood's place with practiced precision.

This was it.

As you returned to where you and Wolfwood would rejoin for the rest of the dance, you were instead met by a man you hadn't seen before.

Your eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by your new dance partner. You could see Wolfwood standing by the edge of the dance floor, looking equal parts confused and relieved not to be dancing with you anymore as he watched you and the man who had taken his place.

The man was a much better dancer than Wolfwood, and within seconds, it was evident that he knew the steps as well as a professional dancer did. The way he spun you, held you, walked with you in time to the music, all of it felt so easy, so natural, so... right. As if you had done this dance with this man a thousand times before.

You couldn't help but stare at your new partner, trying to figure out why the hell he'd stepped in and decided that you, out of all the people on the dancefloor, were to be his partner. The man was rugged and extremely handsome, but something about the way he held you, the way he guided you and touched his hand to yours as you danced together spoke to a profound tenderness. His eyes, such a beautiful shade of blue, never left your face, studying you with such intensity that it almost made you uncomfortable. It might've, if his gaze hadn't felt so familiar.

You took in every detail of this man - his hair, his body type, his eyes, his nose, his lips, the stubble on his chin, the glasses on his face, the way one of his hands felt cold and hard while the other was soft and warm through his gloves as they pressed against yours. Something inside you was screaming, your heart aching every time you shared a touch with him or looked at him, but for the life of you, you couldn't figure out why.

What was it about this man that was making you feel like this? Why did it feel like you'd known this man for ages? Why did your body and his seem to move in such perfect synchronization, as though the two of you had practiced this dance together?

Who was this man?

The endless questions that swirled around torrentially in your mind all vanished the moment your eyes once again met his.

He was crying.

This beautiful man, with his hand still pressed to yours, was crying openly before you, tears slipping silently down his cheeks as his gaze remained trained on you. He didn't seem to care if others saw.

It felt so wrong, seeing tears in those beautiful eyes of his. They didn't belong there. It felt as though you'd been punched in the stomach, all the air in your lungs leaving you in a second at the sight of him crying. All you wanted was to reach out and wipe those tears away, comfort this mysterious dance partner of yours.

Then, in a way you've only ever seen one man do before, the beautiful man smiled at you through his tears.

Vash.

The realization hit you like a thunderbolt.

This man, with the same blue eyes, the same beauty mark by his eye, the same smile, and same colour hair, the same build, the same practiced ease in dancing, was-

"Oh, my God."

The words left you in a breathless whisper, and you couldn't help but stop dancing, too shocked to remember what steps came next. Not that it truly mattered, since the dance was ending, anyways.

You stood there, eyes wide, heart pounding frantically in your chest as you stared at the man before you - the very same man you had spent most of the last year searching for. The same man you had prayed to whatever deity existed to find each and every night. The same man whose loss you'd grieved and cried over countless times.

"(Y/N)."

His whispered call of your name broke you from your thoughts, only for you to realize that now, you too were crying openly before him.

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything, but your body seemed to move before your mind could. You stepped forward and all but flung your arms around Vash, hugging him tightly and burying your face into his chest, trying not to start sobbing hysterically while still on the dancefloor. You felt Vash's arms immediately wrapping around you in return, hugging you to him tightly and holding you close as the two of you simply stood there, the dance coming to an end around you.

As the other dancers began moving off the floor, you found yourself being led away yourself by Vash, with him guiding the pair of you towards the stairs to the second floor balcony.

The upstairs of the saloon was much quieter than the first floor, with only a handful of people lingering around, most of them too drunk to be paying any attention to the two of you. When there was enough privacy, peace and quiet, Vash pulled you into his arms once more, allowing himself to sob against you the way he wanted to from the moment he saw you again.

"(Y/N), oh, (Y/N). I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Vash's cries were muffled by your hair as he held you against him, his tears staining your skin as he wept and begged for your forgiveness. He wasn't even really sure what he was apologizing for in particular - he had so many sins that he had committed against you that he couldn't even begin to think of choosing which one he was apologizing for. Despite the guilt, despite the pain, all that Vash could really feel was overwhelming relief and happiness to have you back in his arms once more.

While Vash's heart had broken when he saw the tears coursing down your cheeks, he couldn't remember ever feeling more relieved than the moment when he saw the recognition in your eyes, when you pieced together who he was. It was all he possibly could've hoped for, to have you back, alive and here with him. It felt as though he were getting a second chance; a chance to take better care of you, to love you properly and protect you and keep you by his side. A second chance at life.

"Vash! Oh, Vash, it's you! You're here," you sobbed into his chest, clutching onto him as though he would disappear the moment you let him go. "You're here!"

Was it possible that this was really happening? That this wasn't just some dream of yours, a dream sent by your mind when life had become too difficult? The feeling of Vash pressed against you, of his arms wrapped tightly around you, of his tears against your skin and his scent surrounding you made you believe so. There was no way this could ever be a dream.

The two of you simply sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, crying in each other's arms as you both realized that this was real. You had somehow found each other again after a year of pure hell, and now, the two of you were reunited once more. Neither of you were sure of how long you'd spent crying, but neither of you cared. All that mattered was that right now, neither of you let go of the other.

Then, Vash was pulling away from you just enough to be able to cup your face, that same tenderness you remembered so well ever present. Following his gentle touch, you felt something soft pressing against your lips. Your eyes flew open as you realized what was happening - he was kissing you.

Your heart stopped for a second, unable to process what was happening, before beginning to race faster than you'd ever felt it do in your life.

Vash was kissing you. He was kissing you.

You could've screamed from the overwhelming joy you were feeling, but instead, you opted to melt into the kiss, your eyes closing as you returned it with equal fervour.

Vash relaxed significantly as he felt you return the kiss, and his hand came up to cup the back of your head, holding you close to him as he tried to convey everything he felt for you through this single gesture. He wanted you to know how much he loved you, how much you meant to him, how happy he was that you were alive and here with him.

When he pulled away, the words spilled from his lips before he could stop himself, "I love you. I love you, (Y/N)."

You let out a tearful laugh, unable to believe what you were hearing. This man, the man you'd loved so deeply for so long, loved you, too.

"I love you, too, Vash."

How good it felt to finally get those words out into the world, to finally tell Vash the truth of how you felt about him. After the agony of past year, you knew you had to tell him. He had to know the truth. And now, he did.

Vash let out his own tearful laugh as you confessed your love for him in return before pulling you back into his arms, holding you tightly to him. This moment felt like one out of a fairytale, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered except the fact that you were here and that you loved him as much as he loved you.

"Thank God. About damn time."

A sudden voice startled the both of you, and you and Vash looked over to see Wolfwood leaned against the wall next to the both of you, smirking like a cat who'd had cream for its supper. If looks could've killed, Wolfwood would've died instantly from the way both you and Vash were glaring at him.

Wolfwood clearly got the message that you both wanted to be left alone, because he raised his hands up in surrender and exclaimed immediately, "Woah, woah, woah. Okay, okay, I get it. I'm leaving. Damn. I'll be downstairs by the bar."

As he turned to leave, though, Wolfwood glanced back over his shoulder and gave a small grin, "Good to see you again, Spikey." before heading back downstairs.

After a few moments of silence between the two of you, you let out a deep sigh, "One of these days, I'm swear I'm going to kill him."

"Not if I kill him first," Vash answered gruffly, shaking his head in slight annoyance and amusement. "Good to see he hasn't changed one bit."

"You have, though."

Your voice was soft and filled with worry as you looked up at him, studying him once more from top to bottom. It's true that Vash had changed significantly from when you'd seen him last, but behind it all, you could still clearly see the man you loved. He was still here, waiting for you, loving you, hoping you'd return to him after all this time.

After a few seconds of simply taking in Vash's appearance, you couldn't help chuckle, "You look very rugged, Mr. Stampede. This look suits you." You reached up, tugging lightly on one of the strands of blonde hair framing his face.

"You think?" Vash chuckled quietly at your gesture, reaching up to wipe the tears from his face.

"I do," you answered simply, but then, your voice fell, becoming quieter and much more serious. "You look so tired."

"I am tired." Vash knew better than trying to lie to you. He reached his hand out, cupping your cheek tenderly, "But I have a feeling that things are about to get a lot better."

You couldn't help but smile, your heart feeling warm and fuzzy as you leaned your face into his touch, "I think so, too. We have a lot to talk about, you and I."

Vash nodded his head, a warmth flooding through him as he gazed down at you, a loving smile on his face, "We certainly do. But for now, I just want to hold the one I love most in the world, if it's all the same to you. And maybe dance with them again, too."

Your smile couldn't have been bigger.

"I couldn't ask for a better partner than you."

[centrally-unplanned]

VOR: Henry Kissinger

Ugh, HUGELY overrated, Bismark has nothing on him. What, truly are his accomplishments? Oh, rapprochement with China? You mean the country that had just experienced a huge split with the Soviet Union, to the point where they were scared of military conflict, that was simultaneously backing North Vietnam in a war against the US? And so we opened doors to them and gave them literally everything they asked for, hanging Taiwan out to dry, and in return got absolutely nothing; China's aid to North Vietnam actually *increased* the year after? The corpse of a roadkill dog could have done that.

The "cease fire" with North Vietnam? That's just losing with coat of paint to poorly cover the shame! At least he had the self-respect to try to return his Nobel Peace prize. Ho Chi Minh handed him his ass on a platter and somehow that is a win on his ledger.

Accelerating arms sales to the Shah of Iran in order to back separatist fighters in Iraq? Whoops! Wow, that uh, wow what a call there. Really picked the right side.

Coup against Allende in Chile? That went well! Not to mention...he didn't. Chile coup'd Chile, Allende was a complete disaster imploding the country's economy. The Chilean military asked for permission as like a token gesture, we gave them support that didn't matter. Its like taking credit for a sports team win because you bought box seats, except at this game they dropped the opposing team's family out of a helicopter headfirst onto the pitch.

All the SALT treaty stuff started under Johnson, he continued it which is fine but is VORcel stuff. His grand "pivot to Europe" was trying to link trade policy to increases in defense spending from European partners...which didn't happen. They didn't increase them. We gave them trade deals anyway. Its fucking Trump without the memes.

On March 1, 1973, Kissinger stated, "The emigration of Jews from the Soviet Union is not an objective of American foreign policy, and if they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern.

Awww "I'm such a cool little edgy boy, look at me and my joke about the Holocaust when discussing systemic discrimination against Jews the Soviet Union, surely this will somehow score me Realpolitik points on the Big Board that I can cash in for prize money while shedding America's moral legitimacy because it makes my dick hard."

He is the academic definition of style over substance, snottily walking from fuck-up to disaster to status-quo free ride and putting a pithy quote about The Nature of Power over it to pretend he had any to begin with. Hurry up and die already so I can stop running into you haggling over hostess tips at overpriced Georgetown restaurants.

F-

[skylinesnsunshines]

pac: what's your next significant partner like? -`♡´-

disclaimer: all for entertainment purposes only, free will exists and energies are subject to change. if it doesn't resonate then it might not be the pile or reading for you. remember that this is a general reading, so i'm channelling the energy of the majority, not a specific individual.

(italicised is the card on the bottom of the tarot deck which is meant to represent the subconscious/blind spot of the situation + rx means reversed)

PILE 1 -> PILE 2 -> PILE 3

photo cr: pinterest | dividers | personal readings | tips

pile 1 ~ queen of wands, the emperor, 8 of wands rx, page of wands rx, 9 of cups oracle cards ~ ceremony: invocation. seduction: attraction, flirting, dating, hooking up, temptation, third-party interference. candle: you will be shown the way, leg: stepping into a new experience.

hello my pile 1's! immediately HEAVY fire energy here, either you or your person could have fire sign placements (mainly feeling leo and aries). i see that this person could be your next romantic interest and that they can deviate from your usual type. this person seems to have a commanding energy and a certain charisma that they embody, and even physically they could be seen as quite conventionally attractive. i believe there is a difference between how people perceive them and who they are within, as their physical presence could impact people's perception of them. sometimes people might think they're "too good to be true" and people could find it difficult to keep their attention. their mind or attention might be sporadic, so this seems to be the person that's "difficult to pin down". they're giving the eldest child energy and may have been the type to carry a lot of burdens due to their family's expectations of them. they seem to have a silent confidence about them and keep their cards close to their chest. even though they're very fiery and express their thoughts easily, there's a conservative nature about them and they keep what they're truly thinking or feeling to themselves. people in their daily lives could idolise them and see them as the people they want to be or be with. this assertive presence often causes people to be intimidated and create an image of this person that is incongruous with who they truly are. just like fire, this person's energy keeps others warm but they can set themselves alight for their loved ones. to outsiders this person might seem shallow due to their demeanour, but they do this on purpose to weed out those that aren't able to see them for who they truly are. although they are quite fiery, i feel that they might struggle with expressing their anger at times which can cause them to implode. there's a deep layer of sensitivity within this person even sacrificial at times. i'm seeing that you help bring out their lively side and are even childlike at times. they could have had to grow up quickly which is why we have 2 cards tied with royalty here, but with you, they seem to feel more at ease with expressing their impulses.

you might meet this next person at an event or celebration or some kind as it could be a wedding, a party, a concert or something along those lines. i think when you meet them for the first time there's an immediate connection, once you lock eyes you both share the immediate feeling of being like "that's my person". there's this magnetism and instant pull that you feel from this person and you and/or them could feel a sense of flirtyness. i'm seeing your first interactions will have playful banter and a lot of lighthearted flirty energy, they could have other suitors vying for their attention but they don't seem fazed by it as their focus is on you. you had an extra oracle card fall out, which describes stepping into a new experience. this reiterates the idea that this person might not be your usual type, or their background could be different from what you've experienced. when it comes to the candle, again it reiterates the instant attraction that you both have and there's a sense of being drawn to each other with no explanation.

pile 2 ~ 2 of cups, 2 of swords rx, 3 of wands, knight of wands rx, 6 of pentacles rx oracle cards ~ spring equinox: rebirth. palm tree: stability, security, permanence, growth, endurance, flexibility. egg: success is assured with good plans and hard work.

hi there pile 2's! immediately 2 cards with the number 2 jumped out which tells me this person might have significant 2nd house (or taurus) placements. with the 2 of cups, they give me libra energy, as this card usually describes people who love hard and enjoy being in partnerships. tauruses are known to be quite stubborn or hardheaded which is totally the energy i pick up from this person, in my mind's eye i'm seeing "tunnel vision" which tells me that this person could struggle with multitasking and needs to feel like they've accomplished a goal to let it go. seems to be the type of person to not take "no" for an answer (respectfully of course). they seem to not be serial daters and only enter a connection if they feel a sense of stability and long-term potential. they have a clear vision of who they are and who they want to be which is why they don't tolerate anything less. they seem to be quite resourceful with big dreams, but they have a bigger drive which is why success seems assured in their future. i'm hearing that they prioritise working smarter, not harder, and will do anything to ensure success for themselves and their loved ones. i don't see them as opportunistic as their need for energy seems to stem from a lack of mindset that they've had growing up. they feel a sense of accomplishment when they can provide for their parents, partners, friends, etc. which ultimately is the fuel for their drive to success. they seem to only be able to enjoy their success if it's tangible and will do anything to ensure their family's long-term stability. they seem to struggle with staying put and stagnancy, which is why they feel the constant need to reinvent and improve themselves and their life. they always seem to think 2 steps ahead and their self-preservation lies in security for their family. they like to feel depended on, which is why they might struggle with feeling enough for themselves. they feel that their life's mission is for them to be able to provide and make other's proud, i'm unsure if this is due to external factors such as upbringing or if it's their innate nature. i do see your relationship teaching them to live in the present more and to appreciate the little moments.

in the northern hemisphere, the spring equinox usually falls on march 20th-21st whereas, in the southern hemisphere, it usually falls on september 22nd-23rd so these dates could be significant. i feel that this person doesn't like labels and doesn't let them define their identity. they hate to be put in a box and see themselves as an ever-evolving being that is always learning and improving. they could also have more of a provider mindset with the palm tree card, as this card describes an unshakeable figure and security. they pride themselves on their endurance and in their resilience. figuratively, they don't seem fussed if they are behind others because they know they'll eventually catch up or even surpass them anyways. i'm hearing the phrase "it's hard to make it to the top, but it's even harder to stay at the top" which could be a testament to your person's character. they're a planner and could be a very type a personality, they have a life plan and will do anything to achieve it. i do feel they aren't as rigid as you might think, but definitely resourceful. if they can't get to plan b from plan a in a straight line, they'll still get there even if it means that they'll take 20 left turns and 40 right turns.

pile 3 ~ 9 of cups, 5 of cups, knight of pentacles, king of swords, 3 of swords oracle cards ~ full moon: completion. heartbroken: deeply hurt, sad, separation, breakup, feeling lost, grieving, mourning. shield: you need to defend yourself.

hi pile 3's! i definitely pick up a strong masculine energy from this pile, they don't have to exclusively identify as a male but their energy just seems more dominant than most. i think this person is on a journey to find self-fulfilment as they've experienced heartbreaks and difficulties throughout their life. they might come off as a brooding character sometimes, or someone who's more reluctant to share their vulnerabilities. they seem to be a person who has it all, for example, they could be quite intelligent, they have a stable job, or they grew up comfortably, but there is a part of themselves that is missing which they are yearning to find. i think their biggest difficulties lie in their relationships, as i can see someone who has such a tender heart but experiences difficult individuals who aren't able to reciprocate the depth that they can. they have a strong sense of self but have feelings of insecurity when it comes to their relationships, as i'm feeling more romantic connections but it could be platonic as well. due to their heartbreaks, they could come off as standoffish or uninterested, but this is mainly a defence mechanism because they don't want to trust the wrong person. these people might like being approached rather than approaching, as i feel like their hurt stems from their unresolved fear of trusting others. they take a while to open up or pursue any connections, but that's because they want to be 100% sure and don't want to provide you with anything less than their worth. they seem incredibly self-aware but need more time to heal their wounds than you do. i'm seeing you being incredibly kind and encouraging for them, which greatly helps build the foundation of trust between you two. they might be someone who often looks to the past as well, and is hypercritical of their mistakes. i do feel that your relationship will help this wound for them and helps them to trust again. they will really try to improve their boundaries and engage in conversations that stimulate you both intellectually. i'm getting that their love language could be words of affirmation and gift-giving. they will learn to be more able to put their feelings into words and work through their traumas to be the best for you and your relationship.

now they might be born under a full moon or you might meet them during a full moon, or even during a time when you are towards the tail end of a chapter of your life. i'm envisioning that you might meet this person towards the end of a chapter so you both can go through the next chapter together. i feel like you could meet them not long after they've had a heartbreak or are in a period of mourning. this energy isn't full of doom and gloom though, as i feel that you were meant to be in this person's life at that specific time to teach them a lesson about resilience. you seem to be this person's endgame and help heal their wounds regarding relationships, they seem to feel like you are their shield and safe space. although they are extremely capable of defending themselves physically, i'm getting the vibe that you are such a fierce protector of their heart and energy which is rare for them. i feel that you will also teach them a lot about self-worth as i'm hearing someone say "why me?", cause they sometimes feel that you are a godsend and that you're too good to be true. you seem to be the last footnote in their chapter and you revitalise their feelings of romance.

that is all! if you have any feedback, comments, queries or requests please don’t hesitate to reach out to me my ask box is always open. sending you all love, light, positivity and abundance <3 much love

[allyricas]

there's just something so delicious about friends-to enemies-to lovers

barely teenage steve and eddie who have a devastating end to what they both thought would be a forever friendship. maybe it's a misunderstanding or maybe it's just teenage angst that felt impossible to fix in the moment.

but i am feral over the idea that the only reason steve ever became 'king steve' strutting around with tommy and carol with his aloof, semi-mean girl attitude was because of the falling out with eddie. that he did it so he didn't feel so much hurt over it. still has no idea what he did to make eddie suddenly hate him.

same with eddie. he definitely liked metal and nerdy shit all along, but maybe he only leaned into the whole 'forced conformity, it's what's killing the kids' freak persona to guard himself. as armor. because he fucking misses steve as much as he hates him. so he glares and makes snarky comments. finds his solace in DnD and his band.

they fight with words and shoulder shoves in the hallway. each of them too proud to ever talk it out and fix things. to the point that their peers don't remember that steve and eddie used to be inseparable. everyone but steve and eddie forget the obvious affection and closeness they once shared.

it takes a bunch of freshmen to put them back into each other's orbit.

it takes the upside down, a dead cheerleader and an evil wizard for them to actually get along again.

because steve is meant to hate eddie but the moment he sees the trailer and hears the word 'murder' he feels like he might throw up.

Please, god, not eddie.

only to find out he supposedly murdered chrissy cunningham. despite all the animosity between the two of them, steve knows in his soul that eddie would never kill anyone.

even when he's against a wall with sharp glass pressed to his neck, heart racing as he looks into the eyes he tries not to think about, steve knows that eddie won't actually hurt him.

steve has the urge to stay with eddie at the lake house and make sure nothing else happens to him. instead, he stops forcing himself to be an asshole towards eddie. it's exhausting and he's never truly meant it anyways. the upside-down shit is threatening the one person he hoped would never be a part of it.

it takes eddie watching steve get pulled under lover's lake and attacked by demon bats to realize that the biggest misunderstanding was of his own thirteen year old self's feelings. that he could've lost steve and he'd have never even told him the truth of why he let their friendship implode over such a ridiculous misunderstanding.

that he wanted more than friendship and that scared the hell out of him at thirteen.

he sees steve bleeding and throwing himself into danger over and over. realizes that yeah, steve harrington is a good guy. his own personal munson doctrine is fundamentally flawed and untrustworthy and he's in love with this stupidly brave man, maybe since forever.

make him pay means i'm sorry, i love you, please be safe, come back.

it takes eddie nearly dying and his steve carrying him out of hell for eddie to realize that steve never hated him either. that what eddie always views as aloofness and superiority was hurt and steve trying to deal. regardless of whatever lays in the past, steve holds him together with his hands and begs eddie to stay. whispers that he loves him, always has loved him, always will love him.

eddie thinks about all the years they lost due to teenage angst and fear. fights to keep his eyes open and stay, because steve his sobbing and begging him not to go.

and when eddie finally wakes up in the hospital, it's steve and uncle wayne next to him. steve won't leave his side, maybe ever again. neither of them with any desire to ever look at each other with anything but love.

[deanwritings]

The Guest House - Chapter 12

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 3,760

A/N: I'm back! Therapy has been great, I'm feeling like myself and that I can breath again. It's been a tough year and ya girl's mind needed a restart, but I am back and doing good.

Also, hope this chapter can be a bit of escape with the election insanity this week. Take care of yourselves everyone! 💖

Dean squeezes his eyes shut as he rests against the door.

What the fuck are you doing? Is all that rings in his mind.

Here he is, with some random girl who's staying in his guest house, put there by his bitch of an ex wife, basically groping her while his mother is a room away. Like he’s seventeen again. 

Really and truly. What the fuck. Are. You. Doing?

Dean rubs an exasperated hand down his face, the heels of his palms digging into his eyes before his hands slap down against his sides. 

It’s the whiskey. He tells himself. Just the whiskey. 

It has nothing to do with your smile. Like when you lit up on the track when you found out Rick would be taking you racing in your dream car. 

Nor your smart ass remarks that always seem to be waiting behind those pretty lips of yours. Or how you drive him crazy in the best and worst ways. Like making him say “please” in the garage this afternoon. 

It definitely has nothing to do with the way you look at him, no longer with disdain, but more recently with shining Y/E/C eyes and something that makes him want to throw you against this damn door, his nose running down the delicate skin of your neck as he takes you in as his hands explore every part of you. 

It also doesn’t help how you react to him; like when he turned your manners game around on you in the garage, and your eyes lit up in a way that made him want to throw you across the hood of Baby and have his way with you. Then just now in the hallway, how you seemed to want this as much as he did. How you leaned into him at his touch, the feel of your curves everywhere as he held you against him.

Those god damn hips. 

Dean’s jaw tightens at the thought, his teeth grinding down as something besides his heart rate starts to rise. 

Fuck. His head falls back with a thud against the doorframe. 

Y/N is hardly the first woman he’s been attracted to since his separation from Lisa. Hell, in the beginning, women were what kept his mind off his imploded marriage. Benny had laughed that Dean was making up for lost time since he and Lisa had gotten together when they were so young, but in reality, Dean just hated coming home to an empty house every day. All he could think of was Lisa and Gavin in his house. In his bed.  

But Dean would be lying to himself if this was only attraction. Ever since their hike, he’s found himself looking towards your cabin everyday before work, hoping to catch a glance of you before he has to leave. When sitting at his empty dining table, he would think about texting you, or maybe even going over and knocking on the cabin door, envisioning interrupting your own meal and riling you up in the process. Watching that fire come alive in you set something alive in Dean. It was like a wildfire, and he was happily caught in its path. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that. Somehow, at some point, you had drawn him in, and god damn did he want more. So much more. 

And it’s not just your body he wants to get to know. He’s found himself wondering what your favorite color is, or what movies you like to watch. He wanted to know, besides him, what made you tick? What makes you happy?

Could I make her happy?

Dean shakes his head and toes his boots off, shaking his head, trying to rid his thoughts of you. He doesn’t want to think about that last question, because he knows the answer. 

And while he tries to focus on undressing, his body is not willing to let go of the idea of you just yet.  

He’s wound up, and god damnit did he need a release. 

He undoes his belt and reaches into his boxers, feeling himself strain against the fabric as he takes a deep breath. He grunts, squeezing his eyes shut before pulling his hand out of his pants.

He shakes his head. He can’t do this. Not with you a wall away and his mother across the hall. He has some self respect. Not much, but he couldn’t sink as low as jerking off to you while you slept in his little brother’s room.

Sam.

And just like that, thinking of Sammy snaps him out of it. He relaxes with a deep breath, the tension finally beginning to fade away.

For extra measure, he pushes himself off the door and pulls it open, striding quickly down the hall to the unoccupied bathroom. He locks the door behind him and reaches into the shower and throws the water on. He drops his undone pants, letting them and his boxers pool around his feet before stepping out of them and throwing his sweater over his head before stepping into the shallow tub. 

He takes in a sharp breath as the cold spray of the shower meets his heated skin, his teeth clenched tight as he drowns himself under the stream as he works to think about anything but you.

Your eyes flutter open, a glimmer of the morning sun sneaking through the gaps of the curtained window. You take in a deep breath, flipping from your side to your back and sigh as you look up at the ceiling. 

Your mind is still reeling from last night; Dean’s hands holding you tight against him, his lips teasing your neck. 

You shut your eyes and swallow.

It was simultaneously one of the hottest and most frustrating things a man has ever done to you. Of course you had wished he had done a hell of a lot more, but the tease of it somehow made it that much more exciting. It made you wonder what else was in store for you. Just a sweet little taste of the possibilities that was Dean Winchester. 

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand beside you, and you shake off last night’s memories as you lean over to pick it up, the screen reading 9:52 with a few notifications beneath it.  

Shit. You quickly sit up. Normally, this would be a regular wakeup time for you on vacation or on the weekends, but you were a guest in someone’s home, and it felt incredibly rude to be up here sleeping while they were most likely downstairs waiting for you. 

As you scramble out of bed, the throb from last night’s wine is front and center in your head. You reach into your purse and throw back two Advil with a swash of water that you set out on your bedside last night before you throw on some fuzzy socks and a hoodie large enough to snuggle yourself into.

Before you reach for the door, you peek at yourself in the full-length mirror and grimace. You smooth down your hair and give it a fluff with your fingers before you reach into your makeup bag, dabbing on some concealer under your eyes and on a few of your red spots, with a light swipe of subtle blush on your cheeks before you deem you look good enough without looking like you’re trying.

You take a deep breath and open the door, taking in the quiet hallway and noticing both the doors to Mary and Dean’s rooms are ajar.

Fuck. You were at least hoping Dean might have also slept in after last night. But no such luck. 

You head down the stairs, your hand on the rail so you don’t slip in your socks before you wander into the kitchen. Mary is sitting at the table in front of the windows, one of her legs propped up and her head hidden by a book. Dean is hunched on a barstool at the island, a plate of food in front of him, currently being shoveled into his mouth, his usual caveman behavior, you’ve noticed, when it comes to food. 

“Morning,” you offer softly as you head over to the coffee maker, a half pot waiting for you. Mary had given you a tour of the kitchen while you cooked dinner last night, and you reach into the cabinet above the brewer and grab a light yellow ceramic mug and fill it about 3/4s of the way.

“Milk’s in the fridge.” Dean mumbles over the food in his mouth and you turn to face him fully. His eyes are cast down at a paper spread flat in front of him next to his breakfast. A smile you hadn’t intended falls at his lack of attention and you head over to the fridge, pouring until your coffee resembles the color of sand. Exactly how you liked it. 

“Want some coffee with that milk?” That deep voice rings out again, and this time when you look up, you’re met with Dean’s enchanting, forest eyes. Your heart skips a beat in your chest and you recap the milk before putting it away and closing the fridge door.

“Some of us enjoy flavor.” You smirk at him as you lean against the counter behind you, your hands wrapped tightly around the warmed mug, the kitchen cool in this March morning. 

“Milk doesn’t have flavor.” Dean grumbles, shoving a fork filled with eggs into his mouth. You frown at him. 

It’s like the tale of two Deans. The suave, sexy sweatered Dean who looks at you like he’ll throw you over your shoulder and make you scream until your voice is hoarse, and the pain-in-the-ass, mannerless idiot you’ve mostly grown accustomed to these last few weeks. 

Looks like you were getting the idiot this morning. You sigh at your own disappointment and swallow down your frown, wondering what that means about last night. 

When you don’t respond, Dean looks back to you, a question in his eyes. 

“There’s a plate for you in the oven.” Dean points his fork to said appliance. You turn your head, following the direction of his utensil-turned-compass.

“Oh,” your shoulders drop. “You didn’t have to save me a plate.” You feel your cheeks flush at the thought that they waited for you so long this morning that they had to keep a plate warm for you in the oven. 

“Oh don’t worry, Dean made it fresh.” Mary peeks out from behind her book for a quick second before disappearing again behind the cover. Dean drops his fork with a clank and shoots his mother a look, one she misses. 

You push off the counter and pad over to the oven. You pull open the door to find a blue ceramic plate.

No way.

You pull out the plate from the oven, the platter only slightly warm, and are greeted with two pancakes and a side of bacon. 

You quickly close the oven and turn on your heel facing Dean.

“You made me pancakes?” Your voice catches in your throat as you stare down at the fluffy buttermilk pancakes sitting poised on the plate. 

“Yeah, well, mom made eggs and I know your picky ass won’t eat those. Can’t have you starve before a big day.” Dean’s eyes met yours for only a moment before he shifts on the barstool and returns to his paper. 

You smile, even though Dean’s not looking at you anymore. You maneuver around the kitchen, grabbing a fork and knife before settling down at the island, a barstool between you and Dean.

You turn and look at him, his shapely jawline adorned with a devilish level of scruff.

“Thank you.” You say earnestly. This catches Dean’s attention, his gaze finding and holding yours long enough to make your heart skip a beat. 

“Don’t mention it.” He lingers on you for a moment longer before turning back to his paper and flipping a page. 

Your lips quirk but you try to not think too much on it as you begin digging in; the pancakes, buttery and full of vanilla, melting deliciously in your mouth. 

The rest of breakfast goes on in silence; Mary reading her book, Dean focused on the paper, and you left flipping through your phone since no one seemed interested in chatting. 

As you load up your dishes in the dishwasher, Dean folders his paper up and slaps it down on the counter before sitting up straight and crossing his arms as he stares you down.

“Think you can be ready in an hour?” Your face falls.

“More notice would have been nice, but yes, I can be ready in an hour.” 

“Good, cause we’re leaving in an hour.” You cross your arms, matching his stance.

“You don’t say.” Dean rolls his eyes at you and you huff. 

“Just go get ready.” He shakes his head, and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. 

Such a pain in the ass. A handsome pain with a handsome ass. But still a pain. 

“Fine. See you in an hour.”

Forty-seven minutes later, you’re showered, your hair is dried and curled into a soft wave, and you’re putting on the finishing touches of your makeup when there’s a soft knock on your door.

You peek at your watch.

“I still have thirteen minutes!” You call out. 

Dean really was pushing the boundaries today. And it was driving you crazy. 

He practically dry humps you last night, ignores you this morning, but makes you a delicious breakfast because he remembered you hate eggs. The man was impossible and it was starting to annoy you. And frustrate you, in a way you were not used to. You bite down on your lip.

“It’s just me.” Mary’s gentle voice calls back.

Shit. 

You drop your mascara into your makeup bag and push yourself off the floor and scurry to the door.

“Sorry about that,” you apologize as soon as Mary comes into view. “I assumed you were Dean.” You offer a half smile as Mary chuckles.

“It’s okay. Mind if I come in.” You step aside and open the door fully, allowing Mary to step in. 

“I just wanted to see if you need any help with your outfit.”

“My outfit?” Your brow furrows, and you look over to your bed where your black chunky sweater and jeans lay waiting for you. Mary’s eyes follow your line of sight. 

“I’m going to guess Dean didn’t give you a heads up, since men never think about these things, but these car shows tend to be on the dresser side.”

Fuck. No, Dean did not tell you that. Your jeans were the nicest thing you brought with you. 

“Yeah, he failed to mention that.” Now you stare at your outfit, anxiety flooding through you at the thought of sticking out for being underdressed. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Mary just smiles at you.

“Come with me.” She waves at you before heading out of the room, and like you’re told, you follow her, heading across the hall and into her bedroom.

The room is large and full of windows and natural light. The lake-chic theme of the downstairs continues through the primary bedroom, with white furniture, a canopy bed with a blue bedspread that matches the wainscot walls, and yellow accents throughout the room. On one of the dressers is a large, framed, selfie of Mary and John, which looks more recent than a lot of the pictures in the living room. Mary’s smile is bright as ever as John kisses her cheek, the two of them in heavy jackets and beanie hats, the hint of snow behind them. 

Mary continues through the room, stopping in a short hallway before disappearing through a doorway. 

“I’ve got a few options that will probably fit you.” Mary’s muffled voice carries through the open doorway before she steps back into view, several hangers in her hand. “You look to be about my size from twenty years ago. And luckily I’m terrible at throwing out old clothes.” She chuckles as she lays out her six options on the ombre comforter that probably matches the lake when it’s not frozen. 

They’re all a mix of dresses, different colors and styles, but the fifth from the end catches your eye.

“Ohh, how about that one.”

Dean taps his foot as he waits in the foyer, checking his watch again. It’s now been an hour and seven minutes since you went upstairs. 

“God dammit woman,” he mutters out in a sigh. 

He meant to tell you last night what time you had to be ready, but the two of you got a little preoccupied. Now he was paying for it by not giving you more of a heads up. 

He should have said something the moment you came downstairs this morning, but he wasn't ready to face you right at that moment. The dreams he had about you last night made it hard to look you in the eyes. And when he finally did, you looked absolutely beautiful, sleep still in your Y/E/C eyes and a glow in your cheeks. You looked like you belonged here, resting against the counter in his mother’s kitchen, cozied up in some giant hoodie and pajama pants with coffee-flavored milk in your hands. 

The floor above him creaks and he turns quickly on his heel, his face dropping with his mood when he sees who it is. 

“Is she ready yet?” Dean all but whines to his mother as she descends. Rather than answer him, she stops two steps from the bottom, standing slightly higher than her statuesque son, and smacks him right in the side of the head.

“Ow!” Dean’s hand jumps to where his mother landed her stinging blow. Not that there was much power behind her swat, but she hasn’t smacked him like this since he was a teenager. 

“What the hell was that for?” Dean bemoans with a grimace, cradling his head.

“Dean Michael Winchester.” Dean’s eyebrows furrow at his mother’s use of his full name.

This was not good.

“You didn’t think,” Mary takes another step down. “To one,” she raises a finger. “Tell her that the car show is cocktail attire.”

Shit. 

“And two.” The second finger goes up. “What time to be ready. So don’t you stand here with a puss face asking when she’s going to be ready.” Dean drops his hand at his mother’s scolding and rolls his eyes. 

He starts to shake his head when Mary’s hand makes contact again, the surprise sending Dean stumbling.

“OW!” Dean yells louder this time, more annoyed than actually hurt. With how much smaller Mary was compared to him, Dean doubted she could actually hurt him even if she really wanted to.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Dean.” Her voice is sharp as her grass-green eyes stare him down. 

“I’m sorry, fine.” Dean concedes. “I just didn’t think about it.” But Mary doesn’t break eye contact.

“She’ll be down in a few minutes.” Mary gives him one last pointed look before taking the final step down and disappearing into the living room. 

Dean watches her go before glancing back towards the empty staircase, sighing out his frustration and giving you a few more minutes of grace.

Three minutes and forty-two seconds later, Dean is leaning against the frame of the front door when the upstairs landing groans again.

Dean’s head whips in that direction as he pushes off the door, just in time to see you take the first step. You’re wearing the black heeled boots you had on yesterday, but it’s paired with a strapless beige dress, the edges trimmed in black with a matching belt wrapped tight around the gentle curve of your waist.

Without thinking, Dean lets out a low, impressed whistle, ignoring the pounding in his chest as he stands up just a little straighter. 

Your hair is down, styled off to one side, with the most makeup Dean has seen you in so far; with full, dark lashes, pink cheeks, and bright red lips, which Dean can’t seem to look away from.

Something else is starting to stand a little straighter too.

Dean clears his throat, and offers out a hand as you get to the last step.

“Thanks,” you reply gently before you drop his hand and head for the coat rack.

“You look nice.” Dean’s now taking in the view of you from the back, leaving little to the imagination like those workout pants did a few weeks ago as the dress seemed to hug your body perfectly. 

Damn. And here mom thought you weren’t prepared. 

You spin on your heel, one arm shimming into your jacket sleeve, your eyes as bright at your smile.

“Thanks.” You repeat. “The dress is your mom’s.” You smirk.

Dean’s mouth drops open as his stomach falls.

“Please don’t tell me that.” Dean groans. The last thing he needs to think about is his mom in that dress. The same dress he was just checking out your ass in.

You just quietly chuckle as your other arm flails for your second sleeve, just missing the opening.

Without a word, Dean steps closer, grabbing your jacket for you and holding it steady so you can slip your arm into. Once it’s in, Dean raises your jacket just a bit before resting it on your shoulders. 

You turn back to him with a smile of thanks, which he can’t help but return.

“Ready?” 

“Sure am.” 

Dean opens the front door for you and you step outside into the bracing afternoon air.

“Have fun, kids!” Mary’s voice travels behind the two of you as Dean steps outside and closes the door behind him. 

You take gentle steps across the driveway, avoiding the few patches of ice that are still lingering. This gives Dean the opening he needs to step in front of you, getting to the passenger door of the Impala about three steps ahead of you.

Without a word, he pulls open the door.

“Wow, getting the full gentleman treatment today, huh.” Your cheek dimples with your half smile as you lower yourself into the passenger seat. Dean smiles down at you.

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” You chuckle as Dean gently shuts the door before heading around to the driver’s seat and hopping in.

With one last check of the mirrors, Dean backs out of the driveway, and the two of you were off. 

[ann-non]

SVT reactions on finding out their partner reading smut

Author’s note : it truly has been a while since I posted anything at all.. I honestly have been passively using tumblr. I hadn't been motivated much to write even though I have ideas in my head. I wish I can write more, but for now I'm just gonna focus on my life and post on rare occasions like this when I feel like it. This one is just a sudden thought because some ppl at work are making this book club but they’re sharing all these high literature books. Like no hate, it just requires more brain power for me to read, so I don’t read them as often and I gravitate more to those easy to read spicy romantasies if you catch my drift. But anyway, they don’t need to know what I read in my free time so I just pretend I didn’t see anything lol But yea, it got me thinking about how SVT members would react when they found out the kind of literary corn their partner is reading hihihihihi Obviously, this is just a work of fiction, in no way I know how they would actually react and I wrote this solely for entertainment purposes. Please enjoy and lemme know what you think!

Rating : not sure how to rate this. I guess, there are some innuendos, but nothing explicit.

S.Coups

He walks into the room, sees you quickly shut your book, and immediately gets suspicious. "What are you reading?" He reaches for it, but you hold it tight. Now he has to know. When he finally peeks at a passage, his whole face goes red. He stammers, "I—uh—I didn’t see anything!" and power walks out like he’s on a mission. Later that night, he awkwardly asks, "So… Can I borrow it when you’re done?”

He immediately notices the playful glint in your eyes and before you could say anything, he quickly added, “It’s nothing, I’m just curious!”

Jeonghan

This man is a menace, he’ll have a field day. He would say things so casually just to watch you implode and be like “Aha~ so that’s what you like~” Before you can react, he snatches the book and starts reading out loud in the most dramatic voice possible. "‘His hands traced down her—’ Oh? Interesting." If you try to take it back, he holds it above your head and laughs. Later, he leans in, whispers with that shit eating smirk of his, "I should start using your books as references, huh?" and leaves you completely speechless. And the worst (best) part? He’d bring it up at random times too, like when you're least expecting it. "Hey, which chapter was your favorite? Asking for research purposes." 💀

Joshua

Bro is blushing when he reads what you were reading. He doesn’t expect that kind of scene when he joins you in bed and then reads along with you out of boredom. "My goodness… Is this what you love to read?" You, unaware that he was reading behind your shoulders all along, quickly closed your book as blush crept all over your face. "I—uh—I didn’t mean to intrude!" He hugged you and encouraged you to keep reading as he pulled you closer. But later, as he was on his phone with one hand while the other wrapped around you, he suddenly muttered, "So… do you, um, read those often?" and instantly regrets asking. He’s too polite to tease, but his brain is racing trying to process it.

Jun

Your book was laying on the table unattended as you were busy with your phone. Jun slowly picks it up, reads a line, and gives you a knowing smirk. "Ah… so this is what you like?" He savors your embarrassment. "You should’ve just told me~" Then, for the rest of the day, he randomly brings it up— "Would you like me to act out a scene for you?" Like he would say it completely seriously with that innocent but dangerous glint in his eyes. He’d lean in, smirk, and be like, "You know… I’m pretty flexible. We could test it out, purely for science." And then just grin knowingly when you start blushing.

Hoshi

He gasps so loudly you think something is wrong. "BABY. WHAT IS THIS?!" He dramatically grabs his chest like he’s about to faint. But then he gets curious. "Wait… lemme see that." Next thing you know, he makes it a whole event. He’d flop down next to you, stretch dramatically, and be like, "Okay, hear me out—I could definitely do this." Then he’d actually start attempting the position in the middle of the room, while you’re just sitting there face palming at his antics, "Babe… please—" 

Wonwoo

Wonwoo would glance at your book, read a few lines, and then give you that poker face of his. Then, with the straightest face, he’d say, "Is the writing good, or do you just read it for the plot?" You stammer, and he smirks, "I should borrow it next. Expand my literary horizons." He won’t tease you outright, but you’ll catch him randomly quoting suggestive lines just to see your reaction. "Ah, so this is what you meant by 'intense character development'? 😏" 

Woozi

He catches a glimpse of your book and immediately looks away. Ears red. He pretends he didn’t see anything, but later, he can’t help but ask, "So, uh… that book. What is it about?" If you try to explain, he’ll awkwardly nod and mumble, "Yeah. Okay. Got it." But if you tease him, "Do you want to read it with me?" he will malfunction on the spot. "Wh—NO. I mean—why would I—" and then he’ll be avoiding eye contact for the rest of the week. Dude is traumatized lmao

DK

He sees the book, skims a sentence, and literally jumps back like he got electrocuted. "WAIT—IS THIS—?!?!" His face is pure shock. "BABE, I THOUGHT YOU WERE INNOCENT!" He covers his eyes like he just walked in on something scandalous. But later, when you’re reading again, he peeks over your shoulder and whispers, "…What’s happening now?" He’d stare at the page, tilt his head, then look at you like, "Wait… is that physically possible? Are human spines supposed to bend that way?" Then he’d probably try to reenact the pose just to prove his point, and now you’re sitting there watching your boyfriend nearly sprain his back because of a book. He’d pause, look at you with wide eyes, and say, "Okay but… HOW?! Like, WHERE are their legs at this point??" Then he’d proceed to read the entire passage out loud just to make it sound even more ridiculous, laughing so hard he can’t breathe, but then he keeps reading because "Now I need to know how it ends." 

Mingyu

He’d walk in, glance over your shoulder, and freeze. Then, after a solid three seconds of silence, he’d gasp so loud and grab his chest dramatically like he’s in a K-drama. "WAIT. HOLD ON. A REVERSE HAREM?? AM I NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU??"

He’d literally act heartbroken, pacing around the room, muttering things like:

"I give you all my love, all my attention, and THIS is how you repay me?!"

"So what, you want four more guys? Is this why you’ve been reading so much lately?"

"IS IT BECAUSE I CAN’T MULTIPLY?!" 

And if you try to explain, he’s not hearing it. He’s already on his phone googling “how to kagebunshin no jutsu” while fake-sniffling in the corner. Bro is dramatic AF, but then he’s also the type to proceed to borrow the book (for research purposes he said), and end up getting way too into it. He’d come back blushing and stuttering like, "Sooooo I read it… and uh… I have some thoughts?? 😳"

The8

He’d glance at the book, shrug, and say, "Cool, do you like it?" before going back to whatever he was doing. But if you explain the plot, he might actually get curious and ask more questions in a totally nonchalant way. And when you least expected he would be like, "Hmm, it actually sounds kinda interesting… Can I read it after you?" but completely unbothered, like he’s asking for a normal book. He'd probably even come back after reading the book like, "Honestly, the plot wasn’t bad. The world building was solid. 4,3 stars out of 5"

He would even be willing to have an open discussion about the book and dissect it if you wish to. BUT!! He'd still take his chance to tease you by randomly dropping spicy one-liners just to fluster you. "I see why you liked chapter 12. 😏" 

Seungkwan

The moment Seungkwan catches you reading a spicy book, he already knows something is up. You’re too focused, flipping pages way too fast, and your expressions keep shifting between wide eyes and bitten lips. His senses are tingling. So, of course, he just has to know.

"EXCUSE ME—WHAT ARE YOU READING?!" He snatches the book, skims a paragraph, and squeals. "OH MY— SWEETIE, THIS IS FILTHY!"

But then, it happens, the performance of his life aka reading it out loud dramatically while also reacting in real time.

“He traced his fingers down her—OH MY GOD, WHY IS IT STARTING LIKE THIS?!” 

"His breath was hot against her ear as he whispered—" he pauses to look at you, scandalized. Cue his signature BOMBASTIC side eyes. "WHAT KIND OF LITERATURE IS THIS?!"

"She gasped as she felt his— NOPE. NOPE. NOT IN MY HOUSE."

But it doesn’t stop there. Oh no—he’s acting out the dialogue like he’s in a full-blown historical drama.

One moment, he’s dramatically dropping his voice to play the male lead, "You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you, my love." 

Then, without missing a beat, he switches to a high-pitched, breathless tone to play the female lead. "B-but what if someone hears us?!" 

He keeps reading, while still adding his own commentaries.

"Excuse me, WHERE are their hands right now???"

"Are they in a library? A CHURCH?! Oh, these people are going straight to JAIL."

"How is she still standing after that? I would’ve collapsed three pages ago."

He gasps, clutches his chest, and falls to the floor like he’s been fatally wounded by the sheer audacity of the scene. Meanwhile, you are absolutely DONE. You’re trying to snatch the book away, but he’s holding it above his head like he’s holding the last piece of food at a buffet.

 "OH NO, I NEED TO KNOW HOW THIS ENDS."

And yes, he will never let you live this down. He will bring it up at the worst possible moment. "Hey guys, did I tell you about the time I caught y/n reading a BOOK OF SIN?"

Vernon

He walks in, glances at the book, and just goes, "Oh, cool." That’s it. No reaction. No judgment. Just vibes. Later, when you're talking about books, he casually asks, "So is that one of your favorites?" You choke on your drink, and he just nods, "Nice." The next time you’re reading, he randomly goes, "Oh, this one is a classic  slow burn enemies to lovers trope. Good tension." You looked at him in shock at the realization that your boyfriend had read the book before and he just looked back at you with his usual laid back expression. “What? Did I say anything weird?”

Dino

He stares at the book, then at you, then back at the book. "Oh. Um. Cool." But five minutes later, he suddenly blurts, "But WHY do you read that?!" He’s so confused, but he tries to act mature about it. However, if you tease him, "Do you want to read it with me?" he IMMEDIATELY runs away, only to come back literally a minute later. He’s a little hesitant, but curiosity wins. He’d be like, "Wait… is that what people are reading these days?" and next thing you know, he’s HOOKED.

End note : obviously, I got carried away with Seungkwan’s. 🤣

[tootsmcscoots]

OK, so. I'm not sure if it just isn't in my circles, but I haven't seen enough people talking about Chronos' design in Hades II and I need to point out an interesting design choice or I'm going to implode. Okay? Okay.

So what do y'all know about Kintsugi? For those who don't know, Kintsugi is an art form wherein pottery that has been broken or shattered is repaired with gold.

Here is an example of a piece, notice how the gold is filling in the cracks of the pottery, not just covering them up, rhe gold is taking the place of the broken ceramics. That is the point of Kintsugi, to highlight the fractures with the gold and show that, yes, once this was broken, but the gold made it whole again and better than before.

Now, what's some baseline knowledge about Chronos? King of the Titans, ruler of Time, ate his kids, and was torn asunder by his children with his own sickle. This is where that design choice comes in.

At first, I just assumed it was just a nice little flourish in the design, he has scars from his dismembering and the scar tissue was a gold hue because of his divine blood. But no, Chronos, over however many eons he spent in Tartarus filled in his missing flesh with gold, like a piece of shattered pottery.

It just... it just works on so many levels to me. Given his personality and self-importance, he treats his body like its a piece of fine pottery repairing it as such. It also helps to show off his overwhelming nature, these wounds that took all Six of the original Olympians, hundreds of Giants, and the Hecatoncheires to inflict meant absolutely nothing in the end, only making it so that he may be more glorious still, illuminating his wounds and showing that he is truly invincible and unstoppable.

God Supergiant is so good at character design.

(Source for Pottery below cutoff)

[obsidianpen]

unpopular opinion: admit it or not but no glory would've been more popular on ao3 than blood & gold if it wasn't locked, considering it's popularity on tiktok. even big accounts on tiktok about fanfic recommendations and stuffs, recommends no glory and their videos is always a hit. don't get me wrong i'm a blood & gold fan, like seriously. but i think no glory is more closer of getting popular along side of manacled, like seriously check tiktok and search no glory and all videos are hits. everytime i search blood & gold on tiktok hoping if some people read it, i barely see any videos compared to no glory. is this a sign to read no glory?😭

well this is certainly part of the problem - something being popular on TikTok is NOT a surefire sign that it’s a good story. There are a LOT of amazing fics that aren’t on TikTok. Like most of them probably. And honestly, I’ve seen some pretty atrocious ones get posted about and reccd there, particularly in tomione. Cough cough.

let’s talk about the tiktokification (and adjacent, instagramification) of fanfics! Like all things, I think there are good and bad parts of this. I think it can be fun when readers like a story so much they make a TikTok about it to hype up the author. That’s how the exchange of fandom is supposed to work: the writer makes and shares a story with the world for free; the reader says thank you by providing feedback in the form of a comment or in this case, reccing it on social media, maybe even going as far as to make a fun video or edit. Fine. Fun. Go at it.

(side note to give special thanks to all fan artists; I think I speak for most writers when I say this is the BEST???? Fanfic inspiring fanart is the best exchange ever, true fandom love)

where I find a problem with TikTok and all that is when writers themselves are hyping up their own work on social media like it’s a job, making catchy funny videos with the intent to reach many people as possible and blow up - on a site that where posts can be monetized. It feels very cringey to me. Like, ulterior motive-y. Sorry if I’m offending anyone with this take, feel free to disagree and do your thing!

but on to No Glory’s presence on TikTok - truly, this was a surprise to me when I first saw it. I don’t agree that it would be ‘manacled popularity status’ because… it’s harrymort. It’s a far cry from Draco and Hermione, that’s for sure (not that I can’t and won’t make a solid argument for how canon compliant - though admittedly very fucked up - harrymort is!). I think it’s fair to say that No Glory is a bit of a ‘despite the’ situation, meaning, it is somehow popular despite having graphic torture, death, trauma, rape, etc. And none of those things are done lightly, nor are they ever excused (the murderer/rapist is not pardoned for any of his bullshit nor is he coerced into doing any of it; he is a Villain, capital V). So yeah, it’s surprising to me that it is as popular as it is, given all that AND that’s it’s a WIP, seeing as there is also (I think) a big trend for people only reading completed fics (these folks are almost missing the point of fandom and how it works and they suck, but that’s a different rant).

I’m losing the plot. Er, I don’t think NG being locked for a while would have made TOO much a difference, but maybe it would have - I’m sure people were sharing it with those who didn’t have accounts and so it probably would have more ‘hits’ or whatever if it hadn’t been. But all in all I don’t think it would be ‘manacled popular’. Because Harry is a (poor young) man, Voldemort is Voldemort, the age gap is both much too large and much too small (if it were an inhuman number of years, book tok logic says it becomes okay again), and everything is so fucked and unforgiving almost all the time. And not in the cute ‘I can fix him and everything!’ way. In the ‘there is nothing that can make him redeemable ever so I’m going to disassociate until I implode over and over again’ kind of way.

[lurkingshan]

Unknown Episode 6

Well, we wanted them to bring the pain, and my god did they do it. If you had any remaining doubt that this show knows exactly what it's doing with this story, this episode surely put it to rest. There were so many excellent scenes this week, and not all of them are strictly from the source material. I'm going to walk through the episode by favorite moments, because there is so much worthy of discussion here.

That first scene between Qian and Yuan, when Qian put his hand on Yuan's face and expressed his worry, was original to the show, and it got me right in the heart. It is exhausting to love someone you know won't love you back in the same way, and Yuan has been crumbling under the burden of trying to restrain his feelings while staying close to Qian. That Qian is both the source of his comfort and his agony makes it all so much harder, and Qian's blinders to Yuan's feelings means he is constantly making it worse for Yuan without meaning to.

I also loved the whole sequence at the H.O.T. party, from Yuan arriving sad and sick and vulnerable only to see Feng Ning getting cozy with his brother, to Qian knowing instantly that something was wrong with Yuan and becoming distracted, to Qian and Feng Ning's chat clearing up their relationship and the show allowing her to be awesome and not at all villainous about it, to Qian following Yuan into the backroom for the confrontation. It was a short sequence but it all built masterfully to the moment we've been waiting for since episode 1.

And what a scene that was. I loved that it began with Qian trying to care for Yuan like he always does. He is at a work event but he cannot focus on anything else until he knows Yuan is okay. But Yuan has hit his limit while his guard was down, and it all finally comes spilling out in the worst way possible. The emotions of this scene were perfect--Qian was truly shocked, deeply upset, and importantly, betrayed by Yuan crossing this boundary and imploding their relationship. And Yuan is also feeling upset and betrayed, because he has always counted on Qian to accept him no matter what, and in this moment, Qian failed him by rejecting him in a way he never has before. They are both clearly devastated to have this relationship ruined because for both of them, it is the most important one in their lives.

It's not surprising that Qian goes into full avoidance mode in the aftermath; he has no idea how to navigate his conflicting instincts. He doesn't want to reject Yuan and in fact it hurts him deeply to do so, but he can't accept him either. He's too shell shocked and angry to return to caretaking, but the guilt is clearly eating at him. So he hides, and finds a way to keep avoiding it by sending Yuan away. And this led to two more fantastic scenes, because this show cares about all its characters and the entire family unit, not just the two leads.

First, San Pang and Yuan. I love that despite making many mistakes and ultimately accelerating the implosion between the brothers, San Pang is not intentionally being malicious here. He is genuinely trying to help because he loves both Qian and Yuan, he doesn't want Qian to be hurt by Yuan's feelings, and he is clearly hoping Yuan can move on from it if he intervenes. Yuan knows this too, which is why he does not hate him despite his interference, and why he feels comfortable pushing San Pang to explain why his love for Qian is such a bad thing. I love that the show went here, and that San Pang couldn't come up with a logical reason why it's wrong. It just feels wrong to him, and isn't that the case with so much cultural taboo?

Second, I love this show so much for not forgetting Lili in all of this. Her increasing anxiety and fear at seeing her brothers' relationship fall apart without understanding why was so heartbreaking. This is her family, and she has had her own very rough childhood and survived parental abandonment too, and suddenly everything is blowing up and no one will explain it to her. Yuan clearly doesn't want to leave her anymore than he does Qian, but at this point he's not being left with much choice. And Qian is not in a headspace to offer her any explanation or comfort. I'm glad her pain was not overlooked.

The way this episode ended, with Yuan setting off for a lonely stint abroad, and Qian not even giving him a proper goodbye, was the final touch of heartbreak. Qian loves his brother so much, and I think he'll regret sending him away so coldly when he is finally able to process what happened here--he may already be starting to regret it, judging by the forlorn look on his face as he leaned in his doorway recalling their memories together. I was glad that at least he left Yuan a token to take with him; he can't face him right now, but he does care. Some time apart will likely do them some good, but in the meantime there will be a lot of loneliness in both their lives. This show hurts so good.

[theautismcorner]

I have bothered my friends about this enough so now I'm posting my ramblings to tumblr so i don't annoy anyone. This is primarily about being disabled.

I love Viktor so much. I love seeing disability rep in media, especially the way they talk about Viktor within arcane. I will phrase this in the most vague way I can - at the end of season two when Jayce talks to Viktor about it I wanted to implode. I would kill for someone to say that to me. I relate to him on an insane level. Starting off with something i find amusing and unrelated to disability - my eyes are actually fairly similar in color to his, specifically when I’m outside/in natural light. One of my friends called them dark honey one time which i think is really cute. Now onto the disability part - I am physically disabled (I have hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome) and often walk with a limp due to pain and have to use braces a lot. While I am dealing with my flare ups reading fics from Viktors pov is really therapeutic because they make me feel like I am not alone in my pain. They help to distract me from the pain too. Something within the fics--the ones that have his pain as a central element--that i love is how much the other characters (namely jayce) care about him and just see him. People who aren't disabled probably don't know how hard it is to ask for the help you need it during flares for fear of being a burden or being weak. When people just offer help, even with small things like getting a blanket or making a cup of tea, it truly means the world. I have been in a flare for three days and have been virtually on my own with it because I don't live with people i like much or even care to know that well and cant really physically leave once the flare is active. I have been living off of crackers, cheese, and cereal because I cant make myself food which sucks. I am lucky i had put my mini fridge next to my bed so i don't have to walk to get ice packs or cheese. I just read Viktor fics (jayvik to be more specific because season two is ouchy) and listen to the same song on loop for hours (the song is Fantastic - Cait and Vis song) just wishing I had someone to care for me like what I am reading. I read one where Jayce makes Viktor his favorite soup and brings it to him and that's exactly what i wish I had right now. I love living vicariously through the fics but god would it be nice to have this stuff irl. Anyways, my legs feel like they are being pulled apart, one muscle/tendon/bone at a time, so I am going to keep reading fics until I have to hobble to a friendsgiving. If y'all have any fic recs please let me know.