#I mean I want SI inner workings

[feelingsareforweak]

I have seen a lot of Irondad and spider son aus which are great cures my depression, reduces my acne all that jazz but listen,

Peter parker! Tony stark science clone, like maybe somebody (cough sheldra/ oscorp cough) gets wind of Howard stark having a special place to store his brand new super soldier serum ("you will always be my greatest creation tony") and like somehow they like get tony's blood/semen to make a perfect soldier, test tube babies made and experimented on (bonus if results in horrifying diseases, body defects, cross animal genes showing up etc etc) and then a stark dna is brought and baby is made and it kind of results in okay baby? Like a human looking baby, no genetic deforms or serious genetic defects AND has a very active brain activity for something not even 6 months old but u know the baby is kind of weak and under weight and has tons of allergies maybe diagnosed with long term asthma and other normal defects found in normal babies but not in the experimenter so scientists are getting so excited that they are so close to getting perfection that next one is on but somehow they get bursted? Idk what happens but in the end two of the main scientists end up with that baby who like in the end up decide to raise the baby to see what may actually happen to this baby and also like to kind of avoid suspensions so two birds in one stone or more like two problems in one baby raising

The baby is named Surprise Surprise you got it right Peter and to avoid suspensions Mary marries Richard and like move in near his brothers house where they often take peter to baby sit along with his wife may cuz they are often busy with work and all that jazz so peter never really knows his parents or his condition at all

In the end after their death all he knows they were never there for him and ben and may were always his parents anyway

Fast forward to peter getting a spider bite and ben dying and becoming spiderman but tragedy tragedy may dying within a few months so during cps evaluation he finds tones of file about himself and getting an identity crisis cus he is a genetically modified a goddamn tony stark clone who going by the files should not be in any way alive but he is. Peter is both horrified fascinated and disgusted with himself and having a quater-life crises at this and kind of like spirals?

(I mean not really but mild horrified fascination that he is a clone!! of Tony Fucking Stark!!!! And he has genetic mutations!!! Enhanced abilities!!! Cuz ill be real if he is a bit on the animal side he may not really get human morals and shit, I want him a bit more on animal side here like he is sunshine daisies but not really understanding of concept of human moral compass cuz his brain was experimented on early and his iq is size of fucking mount everest and he is bored in high school)

Fast forward six months of foster care with ned and post civil war era where Tony doesn't recruit him cuz spiderman started late and is not really on his radar where SI is giving out free scholarships partnering with MIT, Harvard and other big college names that i have not researched enough to name rn and peter applying to it.

Cue ppl being horrified of this pint sized kid blowing all the tests and exams out of the wind and being like this is so freaking easy wtf is this what college teaches nowadays I don't even want to go to college if this is what it is. Scientists are screaming, professors are crying And some of the ug students are throwing up cuz like that was one of the toughest tests I have ever studied for and written in but this chilli sized horrible puns shirt kid comes and does this what even is his life now!???

Now this small packet is blowing college courses like one blows the wind and obviously this gets Tony's attention and somehow he gets roped in mentoring this kid but he is fucking hot mess who has 101 health problems and don't even ask bout his mental or emotional health okay but somehow he agrees okay

Now Peter is in foster care and doesn't want ppl to know he is spiderman (here spiderman is kind of criminal, he steals, he threatens and blackmails ppl but he also saves ppl in broad daylight, helps tourists find directions, helps grandmas cross rides, climbs trees just to save kittens stuck up there like a weird mix of vigilant, assassin and hero who is never known to kill but always subdues cuz he learned that human lives are precious that needs to be preserved after taking away his only source of maral compass and care and love after discovering his science experiment of existence ) so he graduates high school at 14 and gets bachlers from MIT, Harvard, Cambridge in STEM subjects with the young minds programme at the age the age of 15 and is on fast track of getting atleast 5 phDs by the time is of age to vote.

Tony is fascinated and worried for this kid who has managed to become his personal intern but his heart melts everytime he sees hero-worship in the kid's eyes for him, The hot mess™ Tony goddam Stark cuz it doesn't matter if he is a Tony Stark clone, he has always looked up to him from the time he remembers and Iron Man had saved him in Stark Expo okay don't judge him he is still 79.45% human and technically Tony Steak shout be his father anyway

Somewhere along bi weekly lab days and constant checking on this kid who is a star wars fanatic, makes absurd snack monstrosity to eat, is a total lego nerd and being a weird teenage mess this orphan of a kid makes his way along his non existent heart and discovers his genius of an intern is a stupid teenage dressed in onsie that fights crime on daily basis while making bad jokes and help everyday ppl but spiderman maybe loved by Queens but spiderman is kind of criminal so Ironman publically takes Spiderman under his wing.

After all this shit imagine Tony discovering his wayward son's origin story and imagine Tony being emotional mess but Peter is like its okay I'm alive I'm fine but tony is like no its not. It's a rollercoaster mess of emotions, discovering what it means to be a human, forming relationships, real life communication and identity crisis where in the end its kind of ambitious with morgan being born and all that Irondad and Spiderman fluff and jazz

[c0eu4]

Charles speaking dirty in french🤭🤭🤭🤭

CL16 | Dirty boy ♡

Summary: Y/n keeps bothering her boyfriend until he gives in and shows her how to be a good girl.

Warning: dirty talk, smut, no protect sex, dom!Charles, sub!reader, mean!Charles, handcuffs, a bit of hitting (soft)

A/N: enjoy<3

Translation: mon amour= my love | Chéri.e= darling

MASTERLIST requests are open

She sits on his lap, her hand passing through his brown hair. ''Mon amour, I'm trying to work.'' If there are two things that the young woman loves, it's annoying her boyfriend when he's trying to work and his horribly sexy French accent.

She kisses his cheek, her other hand running over his abs through his t-shirt. He feels a shiver down his spine, but doesn't give in to temptation. ''Chérie, please.''

She doesn't listen to him and kiss the crook of his neck, nibbing it softly. His hand found its way to her waist, rubbing it softly. ''Don't you want to take a break?'' She let her hand go under his t-shirt, using her fingerstip to touch his abs.

He sighs, from pleasure? Annoying? She does not know but she doesn't care. Her hand under his t-shirt keeps going up, her mouth continuing to stimulate his neck by leaving a few red marks and lovebites.

He didn't push her away, trying to focus on the computer screen in front of him. He begins to feel tight in his pants, her ass wiggling against him and her fingertips tracing the vertical line of his abs.

His hand which was on her waist goes down to caress her ass, squeezing it softly. ''T'as envie que je te baise hein?'' you want me to fuck you, huh?

She doesn't understand what he said but can't help and moan softly against his soft skin. He grabs her jaw and forces her head up to kiss her. She moans into the kiss and Charles takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, caressing the inside of her cheeks.

She removes his headphone and places it on the desk, running her hand through his hair. He picks her up and moves her into the bedroom, dropping her on the bed. ''Qu'est ce que je vais faire de toi?'' What am I going to do with you?

She feels the excitement build even more in her body, his accent completely turning her brain. ''Tu es si irrésistible..'' You're so irresistible.

He removes his t-shirt, finally revealing his abs that she loves to caress so much. ''Take off all of your clothes.'' His voice was firm yet sweet. She listens to him and takes off her clothes, revealing her underwear to him. ''I said all of your clothes.'' She can't help but blush, even though Charles has seen her naked so many times.

She takes off her last clothes and watches him rummage through the drawer of his nightstand.

''Is it ok if I tie your wrist to the bed?'' She bit her lower lips. ''Yes. You can do whatever you want with me, my love.''

Charles smirks, taking off two handcuffs from the drawer, deftly tying one end around one of her wrist, securing it to the headboard. He repeated this process with her other wrist, leaving her bound and vulnerable in front of him.

He takes his time to take off his pants and joins her in bed, getting on top of her and one of his hands already trailing between her thighs. ''Je parie que tu es toute mouillée, mh?'' I bet you're soaking, mh?

She whines, wanting him to touch her. ''Please.. Charlie..'' He chuckles, his cold hand touching her inner thighs. She can't help but move her hips to try and show him her impatience. His fingers move up slowly and he slides one finger between her wet folds. ''Toute mouillée et rien que pour moi.'' All wet and only for me.

She closes her eyes, trying to move her hands but can't. Her head fell back against the pillow with a long moan of his name when she felt his lips against her bundle of nerves.

She can't help but squirm with pleasure as he continues to stimulate her with his tongue. And just as she was about to cum, Charles suddenly stopped and moved his kisses back to her stomach.

''What the hell Charles!'' she shouted, frustrated. He laughs, kissing her ribs. His laugh is deep and dark, almost frightening.

He rubs himself against her wet fold, making her moan deeply. He can feel the wet through his boxer and it turns him so much on. ''Putain Y/n tu vas me faire jouir juste parce que t'es autant mouillée.'' Damn Y/n you're gonna make me cum just because of your wetness.

''Charles..I need you!'' She whines, shaking violently under him. He doesn't wait longer and takes off his boxer and thrust roughly into her tight and wet cunt.

''Merde.. t'es si serré..'' shit.. you're so tight..

He doesn't wait any longer to almost pull out and go back in roughly.

''Tu la prends si bien.'' You take it so well.

If he keeps talking like that, she'll probably cum faster than expected.

''Oh oui, t'es si bonne.. ma pute..'' Oh yes, you're so good.. my whore..

''Ch-Charles!'' She moaned loudly before cumming hardly around his cock. Charles takes it upon himself and holds back from cumming as he feels her walls tightening around his cock. He speeds up his movements, his hips hitting hers with a sensual sound of flesh smacking and a wet sound.

His hand hits the side of her thigh. ''Dit moi que tu m'appartient.'' Tell me you're mine.

She doesn't understand what he says and moans loudly, not having time to recover from her orgasm.

Charles hit her thigh a second time, this time leaving a red mark of his hand. ''Dit moi que you're mine!''

Her back arches a second time, her eyes filling with tears. ''I-I'm yours !'' He moaned loudly, but kept holding himself. ''En Français.'' in French.

The feeling is almost unbreathable and she can barely find her breath. ''Je..J-je appartiens.'' She managed to moan, with her sensual English accent.

''Putain oui..Bonne fille.. Mon jouet baisable préféré..'' Fuck yes.. good girl.. my favorite fucktoy..

Charles redoubles his efforts, showing his breathing and dumbbell physique in his thrusts. The room is filled with their moans. One of Charles' hands finds its way between her legs, playing with her clit.

She doesn't wait any longer to come brutally a second time, tears leave her eyes to roll down her cheeks.

''Oh oui.. serre moi fort..'' Oh yes.. tight me hard..

Charles continues to thrust inside her until he reaches his own climax, his hot seed feeling her up perfectly.

''Ah! Putain! Y/n! T'es trop bonne!'' Ah! Fuck! Y/n! You're too good!

He crashes into her, still being careful not to hurt her. After a few minutes of catching their breath, he pulls out of her with a wet noise and one last moan leaves her lips.

He unties her hands, massaging her wrist to relieve it. ''Ça va, mon chat?'' All good, my cat?

She turns around and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her head into his neck. ''That was great. As usual.''

He can't help but smirk, his hands rubbing her back. ''Je sais que t'aime bien quand je suis méchant avec toi..'' I know you like it when I'm mean with you..

One of his hand goes lower and gently strokes her red thigh. She kisses his neck, already nibbing on it again.

''Ready for round two?''

[djarincore]

i want to taste you better

TAGS: MDNI 18+, overstimulation, cunnilingus, dirty talk, DADDY'S HOME (no daddy kink, sorry) WC: 1k

A/N: the sequel to this drabble. ONCE AGAIN thank you to sleep token for writing sexy ass lyrics and giving me the best titles. I'm gonna make a whole series of smut drabbles based off sleep token lyrics fr

Your car was in the driveway, but the house was unusually dark when Simon opened the front door. You always preferred to keep the lights on whenever he was away—said it felt ‘less lonely’ when the house was lit up. He didn't mind paying a bit more when the electricity bill came in if it meant you could find some comfort while he was away.

He dropped his bags at the door, deciding to deal with them later. He had more important things to do like finally holding you in his arms after being gone for two months. It certainly wasn't the longest he had been away, but it didn't mean he was any less eager to come back to you.

Simon crept up the dark stairs, avoiding spots he knew would creak beneath his weight. At the end of the hall, there was light framing a closed bedroom door.

He briefly thought about what you could be doing in there. Innocent thoughts at first—it was late, you had work in the morning, so you'd be in bed and winding down. But, the low drawn out moan that slipped from the door told him otherwise.

Fuck, he missed that voice. It wasn't the same hearing you whimper and moan from some shitty, little burner phone.

Your heavy breaths could be heard just outside the door. He lingered for a moment, pressing his shoulder to the wall. Your cries were beginning to crescendo, the tell tale sign of your orgasm.

Who was he to deprive you of that? It would just make your pretty noises all the more sweeter when he fucks another orgasm out of you.

When you met your peak with a choked gasp, Simon turned the door and stepped in. The air was thick with your scent.

You yelped at the sudden intrusion, sitting up and grabbing the blanket to cover your naked body. When the shock cleared, you were able to get a better look at the man who entered your bedroom. “Si?”

He clicked his tongue and cocked his head. “Thinkin’ of me, love?”

You cast the blanket aside and moved to slip off the bed, no doubt to run and hug him, but he stepped forward. “Don't move,” he commanded. “Lay down on the bed.”

You did as he said, laying back on the bed as he approached, anticipation holding your breath. You stared up at him looming over you. His black face mask was still on, obscuring mouth. You could see the faint black smudges still around his eyes.

Simon wasted no time slipping between your legs. He laid his palms on your inner thighs and spread them open to fit himself.

“Couldn't wait ‘til I got home. Were you really that fuckin’ desperate?”

You tried opening your mouth to defend yourself, but one of his hands, warm and calloused, slid between your legs. His thumb parted your folds to get a proper view of your glistening cunt, arousal leaking out and soiling the sheets below.

“My dirty girl,” he sighed, rubbing his thumb over your dripping hole. You squirmed, and he held you down by the hip, fingers digging into your soft flesh. “Gotta clean you up now.”

Both of his hands slid up the curves of your body, making sure to caress the mounds of your breasts before one settled on your jaw. He leaned over, stabilizing himself with one arm, and paused just before your lips.

You brought a finger up to tease the edge of the fabric over his nose before trailing to the string looped around one end of his mask. You pulled it off to reveal your lover's face and his smirking lips.

“Missed you,” you mumbled, leaning up for a kiss.

Simon met it hungrily, sweeping his tongue along your lower lip to prod into your mouth. His kisses devoured you. He pulled away to trail his lips down your neck, sucking marks along the column of your throat, laying his claim to you once again.

He wanted you to remember this in the morning—the marks on your skin, the ache between your legs—and remember it was him that made you feel that way. It would only ever be him.

He moved down your chest, paying attention to the hardened tips of your breasts. He latched his mouth around one nipple while his hand kneaded the other breast.

You arched into his touch and gasped when his teeth grazed over your nipple. Your fingers ran through his hair, urging him lower, just where you really needed him.

“More,” you whined, rutting yourself against the leg wedged between your thighs. “Please, Si.”

His hands smoothed over the curve of your waist as he slipped down to meet your cunt. He pulled your legs wide and hooked them over his broad shoulders.

Simon didn't waste time delving into your dripping cunt. His fingers formed a ‘v’ around your opening and he slotted his lips between them, lapping up the arousal from your orgasm. He was starved, almost desperate to taste you again. He shut his eyes and lost himself in you.

Your cries and moans fell on deaf ears as he dragged his tongue through your folds and toyed with your clit. The orgasm you gave yourself left you sensitive to his eager ministrations. Each flick of his tongue over your clit had your legs locking around his head, tense but thruming with pleasure.

He pulled your legs back open when you squeezed too hard, gripping your soft flesh and continuing to devour you. When he pushed two fingers deep into your cunt, feeling the way your wet heat pulsated around his fingers, he groaned.

“Fuck, you're tight. Want you to come on my mouth, love. Come on—ride my face.”

With his fingers buried in you and his lips on your clit, Simon worked another orgasm out of you. Your back arched and you finished with his name on your lips. He removed his fingers and replaced them with his mouth, letting your ride out your orgasm on his tongue.

“Ngh, fuck,” you cried, when he refused to pull away. You looked down at him as your chest heaved. “I can't.”

You tried shifting yourself away, but his grip on your thighs was relentless. His tongue ran over your clit again and your body twitched.

“You can. One more, just one more for me.”

[lunarw0rks]

Hiii, I've absolutely devoured most of your fics and I absolutely LOVE your writing style ♡♡♡ could you do an established relationship fiction with Ghost? Y/n is sort of asexual, so sometimes even if she's not in the mood herself, she just likes to watch Simon get himself off (maybe multiple rounds!!!)? Nsfw with lots of fluff??? ♡

warning(s): nsfw (18+), established relationship, fluff/smut, (m.) masturbation, asexual!fem!reader

A HELPING HAND | SIMON RILEY

it's no secret that simon's relationship with intimacy is complicated.

but so is yours, and it makes for a perfect pair... sometimes. tonight was not one of those nights.

"are you alright?" you ask, glancing up from the book in your hands.

he hasn't stopped fidgeting, and he won't. sit. down. it's starting to drive you nuts. but frankly, for such a calm man to get jittery — something was up.

it was random, his sudden urge for intimacy. however, it was clear you were relaxing, in your own little world. he didn't want to soil that. it had been weeks since you two had sex — which was usually never a problem, but tonight was especially difficult for Simon to stifle.

"...'m fine," now he's rearranging the desktop, only sitting down in the desk chair briefly as a means of distraction. his pants were painfully tight by this point.

"simon... simon." you interrupt his rambles, recognizing that familiar shift he's doing in the seat. how one hand has remained on his inner thigh for several minutes. "if you want something, all you need to do is ask, you know that, right?"

the swivel chair comes to a stop when it faces you, but he's still stiff in his posture. "not that kind of favor, love." he says, looking awfully meek for someone with such conviction any other time.

you were only teasing him before. but now you really had an answer — the root of his not-so-little problem, which resided in boxers that are currently a size too small.

though you weren't feeling any urges of your own arise, there was fun to be had in watching him. it wouldn't have been the first time, either. "why don't i watch you again?"

there was no sense in being coy like he was the first time you proposed the idea. it wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be. in fact, that night you found the sight quite arousing... without acting feeling aroused at that moment. besides, it made the reward for later twice as satisfying — whether it be weeks, or months before you have the desire to reciprocate again.

"you're sure about this?" his movements went still as if waiting on your permission to start palming his thigh again.

with a small smile, you tossed your book aside and let it land somewhere out of sight on the bed. still, you insisted, "deadly serious, si. it doesn't bother me."

he clicked his tongue and nodded to himself, slouching a bit in the chair to unbuckle his belt. the metal clinked as he shimmed with it, eventually setting the accessory on the desk behind him. once the jeans were loosened, you could truly see the pressure of his hardened length — begging to be sprung free.

simon shifted his hips until only his jeans were pulled down a bit. next, he peeled back the waistband of his ebony briefs, cock slumping against his tone stomach. tip ruddy and oozing pre-cum, and his stomach heaved a bit from the sensation of having his problem released from the confines of clothing.

thick, calloused hands grasped his erection, slouching forward to spit on it. the translucent string rolled down his shaft, going the pattern of the prominent veins along its sides. a truly lude image to witness; tempting, even, if you were truly in the mood.

instead, it was motivation enough for another time.

manspreading in the desk chair, he continued to work his cock. faint, wet clicks of the lubricant echoing through the bedroom. it didn't help how quiet simon naturally was. but where was the fun in this, if not putting on some sort of show for you?

he let a few noises slip, huffing through his nostrils audibly and letting out small grunts the faster you went. you lay back against the plush bed, biting back feelings of fluster that came whether aroused or not. his moans were rare and cherished — and you happened to be one of the few souls lucky enough to hear them.

you folded your arms and watched intently, gnawing on your bottom lip. not being aroused didn't mean you weren't going to ogle him, especially when all hot and bothered.

his hand moved hastily, its large size swallowing his length, covering more surface area than yours ever could. you'd catch his hips bucking in the seat while he maintained eye contact — unless they drooped shut when his fingers brushed against his sensitive slit. the same way he shuttered when you skimmed your tongue along it many times, except he had the luxury of not getting 'scolded' for it.

now he's exposed his weak points. you now knew he savored it when you teased your tongue there.

especially when he'd gotten so twitchy with his own thumb caressing. well, now you've taken note to tease him that way again, no matter the repercussions.

"need to— fuck— touch you," his speech skipped like a scratched CD, the strokes growing sloppier and more desirous. he was close; so fucking close.

you nod your head, watching him stand to his feet. as simon walks over, he slows his roll a bit, enough to ensure he won't spill right then and there. you remain in the same position, except for the hand you place on his waist, running your palm up and down his abdomen to give him for stimulation.

he stands beside the bed, his clean hand reaching out. his thumb brushes against your lip, giving your bottom one a slight drag — then slipping between them and running along your gums, allowing you to tongue along his finger like you would his cock.

the sticky, gummy texture of your mouth — like that of your entrance clenching around him. and your caress, like you always did when he hit spots deep inside. your small contributions allowed his imagination to do the rest of the heavy lifting.

you palmed his abs, maintaining eye contact to give him every bit of this otherwise touchless act. but your hand along his stomach was enough, as was playing with your mouth; enough to push him turbulently over that edge.

a string of curses poured from simon's lips, just like the globs of cum that followed quickly after. into his palm, he released his load, hips grinding against nothing until the overwhelming sensations ceased. his finger removed from your mouth with a pop, before he sped to the bathroom to wipe himself off.

a few moments later, he returned, finding you in the same position. it was quite a show, to put it lightly; not one you'll forget any time soon, either.

instead of standing like before, he knelt in front of the bed, sitting between your legs with his neck craned to look up at you. "that was alrigh' with you?" he asks again as if the 'damage' wasn't already done.

you nodded again, reassuring him once more, "of course, si. it doesn't bother me. and it's... a sight to see." you attempt a wink but look more like you're trying to get something out of your eye.

he scoffs at your attempt, taking both your hands — while simon's are icy and freshly smelling of the lavender soap in the washroom. despite your humor, it means a lot to be reassured by you. "christ, you are unbelievable, lovie. y'know tha'?" he teases, giving each of your knuckles a buss.

"i know it," you sneer, squirming slightly from the pecks. "but i still won't forget tonight. it'll keep me warm when you're away."

his brow cocks, and then comes a half-awkward chuckle. "you're a bloody tease, but i'm guessing you know that too, don't you? and a proper smart mouth."

you retort the same, having keen knowledge of how to press his fragile buttons. "what are you going to do? get the soap?"

"might have to." simon replies with faux sternness, even while speaking through a warm smile, the rough pads of his thumbs still rubbing your knuckles.

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‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ divider cred. - cafekitsune ｡･:*:･

[luciddownloading]

Tarot Reading: What Is Your Main Character Energy?

Good evening/morning/afternoon. Whenever this finds you! I am choosing to do a classic today; one that all my favorite readers have done: what is your main character energy? Please know that "main character" does not mean being self-centered or making everything about you. It just means how you can best live out your life story. How are you the protagonist of your own movie or novel? Because we all are, whether you embrace that concept or not. Embracing it moves you into your main character energy.

Choose the pretty picture of the mirror below that you feel most drawn to. Then, scroll down to your pile's description. It's okay to feel drawn to more than one. Not only because all the aesthetics are aesthetic-ing but because your main character energy may be so dimensional and complex that you can't be described by just one pile.

Trust your intuition. If it doesn't sound like you or the potential you have within (but may not have grown into yet), it's not your pile. Take what resonates and leave the rest.

PILE 1

PILE 2

PILE 3

PILE 4

(Clarifying cards in parentheses)

PILE 1

Five of Pentacles

(Two of Pentacles, reversed)

Seven of Cups

(Eight of Pentacles)

The Fool, reversed

(The High Priestess)

Two of Swords, reversed

(Six of Pentacles, reversed)

Two of Wands

Pile 1, I am feeling like you guys are dreamers. Big dreamers. But, you're not just about the dreaming. You're also about the hard work and the effort needed to make those dreams come true. Your main character energy stems from the fact that you are equally pragmatic and idealistic. Your head is in the clouds but your feet are on earth. But, what people underestimate is how HARD this balance is. It's really difficult for you because, until you come to a place of inner peace, one side of yourself is constantly disappointing the other. If you cling to your fantasies, you feel like a failure who isn't getting anything done. But, if you try to live in the "real world", you feel trapped and claustrophobic, like you're killing your dreams by conforming to a normal, boring life or approach to it.

Here are two things you probably need to hear right now. 1) There is no such thing as "the real world". Nothing is real and everything is real. It all depends on the reality you create every day with your thoughts. Don't let this dull, unawakened, unimaginative society kill your beautiful, magical spirit. At the same time 2) You need to make sure you get and stay grounded. You all who chose this pile have VERY high frequencies and powerful energies. You are also great manifestors. But you can very very easily manifest what you don't want, as your vibration is so strong. You can't afford to be a manifestation skeptic or not be conscious of this part of life. It will really really slow you down. This is a call from your Guides to consistently work on the grounding techniques and practices/meditations needed to anchor on the physical. Earth is the worst, at times, because of some humans in it but also so beautiful in other ways. You move into your main character energy when you fully embrace being on this plane and allow yourself to cultivate a very abundant life.

I am getting a heavy vibe of "artist" from this pile. And I say this because, with love, there is also a major "struggle bus" energy here. Many of you know all too well the life of being a starving writer, actor, singer, dancer, etc. But, don't allow yourself to settle for that! You have major blockages to your manifestations, which may even stem from past life experiences of poverty or financial loss. That feels very comfortable to you. A lot of you claim to not care about money, to not be materialistic. But, do you maybe subconsciously feel like you don't deserve financial abundance or material success? Also, while it is noble to sacrifice for your art, there is a message here about not romanticizing that struggle. Rent still needs to be paid, my good sis. Here again is the importance of balancing your dreamy, imaginative, idealistic side with practical concerns. And you can do that without becoming a slave to capitalism.

All The Small Things by Blink 182 just came through, particularly the lyric "Work sucks, I know." Maybe you hate your day job or don't want to get one? If you're not pursuing an artistic path, I wouldn't be surprised if you still had a creative side. Maybe you gave up your dream of being an artist to pay the bills. Well it's not too late to pursue that dream! You are being urged to not let the world turn you cynical. There is a big dream you have and I feel like many of you haven't quite gotten there or haven't pursued it yet. But please know that you can and will. I think you need to change how you view yourself. You are SO much more capable and impressive than you give yourself credit for. Be very very careful with how you speak of yourself in this way. If you keep referring to yourself as a mess or a loser or broke, that's how you will remain. You can't level up til your thoughts do!

I feel like you guys are very free-spirited. Colorful and fun. You can make the most of any situation, which may be partially why you don't change your adverse financial/professional situation. It just doesn't faze you anyway! Going back to All The Small Things, your energy reminds me of that music video. Playful and silly. You are, though, capable of taking your goals very seriously. If you allow yourself to. Again, a juxtaposition of two opposites. You're a walking contradiction! You also, per the lyrics, find such joy in life's little pleasures. It's lovely and even childlike.

Also, you are highly intuitive. Please stop brushing it off or being afraid of it. Your logical side can make you very resistant toward your psychic abilities. But, they still play a major role in your life anyway. It's funny. You have a strong psychic gift that you are pretty much always using but rarely noticing or believing in. Lol your Guides find it kind of funny too (in a loving way) because you are always in communication with them but you just see it as so normal, you don't realize it. Some of you are natural mediums. You may want to research that because you could discover a whole part of yourself you didn't know you were using. And you may make good money as a spiritual practitioner. Yeah, some of you have a LOT of fear about developing your intuitive gifts. Please know and trust that you are protected. I think you have one Guide in particular who is meant to help you develop your gift and will be your intermediate to the other side, keeping all the negative energy at bay.

Very artistic people are usually very psychic and vice versa. Either path could be the one for you or you could do both. Here's the thing. You picked this mirror that looks like it's in a rich person's mansion. And I am going to reveal your dirty little secret so don't hate me for it: you want to be wealthy. Deep down, you do. That could mean making six figures or being a millionaire or just always being able to pay your bills without any worries and have plenty of disposable income. Don't worry. It doesn't make you a bad person! You owe it to yourself to tap into your abundance.

Your main character energy is being very well off, a success story, maybe even a rags to riches story. If you want to live a fabulous life, please do what you can to manifest that for yourself. Do not feel guilty about that. And don't let people and their limiting beliefs keep you small, in a state of struggle or lack, or from pursuing what you want. If someone wants to "eat the rich", then they can have your future wealthy self on a plate with some Tobasco sauce. And if someone tries to kill your dream, know that it exists in your head, not theirs.

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PILE 2

The Hierophant

(Queen of Cups)

Four of Swords - reversed

(The Hermit - reversed)

Ten of Wands

(Knight of Cups)

King of Cups - reversed

(Page of Cups)

The Empress

Pile 2, your energy is precious. You guys are such sweethearts! I not only get an adorable, kind, bubbly vibe from you but a very feminine one. It doesn't matter what gender you identify with, you have strong feminine energy. That is a big part of your main character energy: femininity. In particular, it's more of what's known as "light feminine" energy: soft, kind, perky, nurturing, pretty. I got two images in my head: Elle Woods from Legally Blonde and Anna Faris' character from The House Bunny. People may unfortunately underestimate you because you are traditionally feminine but it's their mistake if they do. You are a force to be reckoned with in a cute package. Iron fist in a velvet glove.

Some of you may resist this main character energy because you want to be taken more seriously. You might try to hide or deny your soft, sweet or aesthetic side. Well, don't. It's through this energy that you come out on top. I have to say that people ADORE you, whether you realize it or not. You might be too focused on your flaws or your dark side to realize that everyone thinks you are just this really nice, really loving little cinnamon roll. That may be how some underestimate you but not out of malice. People can dismiss many of your shadow traits, too busy idealizing you, and you can get away with murder sometimes, low-key (I am tempted to say high-key but I don't think y'all are manipulative like that. Unless I'm also underestimating you lol)

You excel by holding yourself to some sort of lovingly high standard, if that makes sense. "Love thy neighbor" and I don't mean in a religious sense (though some of you could be). I just mean being very loving, very compassionate and encouraging. You kill with kindness because this is not only how you rise above negativity and hate but how you get ahead in life. You become the main character by showing how many more bees you get with honey than with vinegar.

I would not be shocked if many people find you angelic or call you an angel. That, by the way, does not mean you're perfect or all-good. It just means you're capable of exceptional empathy or kindness or service to others. You struggle with tremendous guilt, though. Many people pleasers in this pile! If not, then you are definitely an "over-giver", someone so generous and available that they just let people take and take. And take and take and take. Please recognize when your energy is being drained, when you're taking on way too much. Honor your boundaries! There can be something of a martyr complex here. You were not meant to take on the weight of the world! Also, you can't save people! You have to let people work through things themselves.

I think you have a very, very rich inner life, as well, Pile 2. People might also not suspect this because of the bubbly exterior but you are capable of diving deep, sometimes painfully deep. As such as an empathic person, you are also often processing others' emotions as well as your own. There is like this huge "depression/anxiety rabbit hole" that you can easily fall into that may kind of haunt you. No matter how happy you are or good things are going, one step in that melancholy direction of thoughts can easily derail you. It's important for you to monitor your thoughts and know when you're about to "go there". You shouldn't repress those states if they naturally arise but you also should know what to do when they do. So you can prevent yourself from spiraling. Some tips I am getting: writing poetry, meditating, gratitude journal, singing, any hobby that can calm you down and get you to focus on something else. Knitting, maybe? Painting. Take all that applies.

Also, um, you are gorgeous. Whether you believe it or not. People find you so beautiful, inside and out. For some, there is an emphasis on your outer beauty, maybe a bit excessively, to your frustration at times. The good thing? Your main character energy allows you to not only exude beauty in all ways but to get many people to also see past it. "Yes he's really good-looking but he's also so talented!" "She is stunning yet she's also just an amazing person." Your looks are the cake icing, not the cake itself. Some people may take a while to realize this. But, again, like the aforementioned main characters who were written off as mere pretty faces, you inevitably surprise the ones who think that when you display all the layers and facets and talents you have.

At the same time, don't be ashamed of taking pride in your appearance, putting effort into it. It's not a sin to want to look good! You are very popular with your preferred sex(es). Yes, you are a regulation hottie. Own it. Some of you may struggle with it if you had an adult "glow up" after years of awkwardness but there's nothing wrong with embracing your attractiveness. At the same time, there may be a bittersweet irony here because you aren't always treated how you deserve by love interests or romantic partners. You are more drawn to counterparts with a very masculine energy yet there can be a pattern of choosing very emotionally unavailable or immature people. And since you're so kind and giving, this is often a recipe for heartbreak. I am sure a particular person or two just came to your mind lol.

But you know what? I get the sense that these love interests end up regretting their actions. They may break their own heart by letting someone as precious as you get away. And as time goes on, you will gradually learn your lesson about giving your heart away to those who force you to do all of the heavy lifting. While you will learn the hard way, your love life will get increasingly satisfying with each painful lesson in relationships. That beautiful heart of yours will never shut down. You refuse to let it and will probably end up teaching one or more of those unavailable lovers what true love means, allowing them to turn it around and become much more open-hearted. But, again, don't try to do that for them.

Oh, I almost forgot your channeled song. It's weird because many girl-anthem pop songs came through but none really stood out. So, I will do something different. Pick your favorite female pop star and do a shuffle playlist of her music. The first song that comes up is your message.

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PILE 3

Five of Cups

(Nine of Cups - reversed)

Two of Pentacles - reversed

(The Wheel of Fortune - reversed)

Nine of Wands

(Seven of Swords)

Justice

(Nine of Pentacles - reversed)

Five of Swords

Wow, alright, Pile 3. I think you're in need of a hug and I am sending one to you energetically. There is some very intense and very painful energy to this pile. Unfortunately, that is part of your main character energy: to work through a lot of pain, heartache, even trauma. The pitfall is that you can make the mistake of believing that this suffering is your identity. You are not your trauma. That trauma is made up of so many lies that others told you or that you even told yourself to cope with your situation.

But you know what? You did the best you could at the time with the inner tools you had at the time. Many of you may be on a healing journey but then shaming yourself for ways in which you were once self-sabotaging or defensive. Instead, be grateful for your past self. You had to be that person you were then in order to become the person that either you are now or that you will grow into. But, I can see some of y'all tormenting yourselves by replaying certain mistakes or moments that weren't your finest or proudest. Okay, so you messed up. We all do. Please take yourself from down off the cross. You deserve forgiveness and compassion and that starts with yourself.

It's Been Awhile by Staind keeps playing in my head. If you don't know that 2000's emo classic, please give it a stream/look up the lyrics. There may be a message for you in it. You are the main character by being quite emo. You might be a Millennial who came of age in that era and listened to a lot of emo bands. My Chemical Romance may be significant. Also, Green Day. Regardless, there is a quality to you that is like a moody, tortured teen. And I am not trying to mock you or be dismissive. After all, teenage pain is just as real and valid as an adult's. It is just not expressed with as much perspective or reason. No matter how smart you are, you can lose all perspective entirely when your triggers or unresolved feelings arise and it causes you to blow a lot out of proportion.

But, I also think it's because you struggle intensely with having faith: in yourself, in other people, the Universe or life itself. Even if you're more spiritual, I think you can still feel as if the Universe is actively "punishing" you. Big fears about the rug being pulled underneath you. But, you have been badly betrayed in the past. Whether by romantic partners, friends or family, I think there are certain incidents from the past that you've never gotten over and that heavily influence your decision making to this day. Going back to the teenager thing, I feel like there are certain things from your teens you need to purge as well.

Yeah, it may be especially difficult for you to believe in relationships. A partner or two in the past really did you dirty. But, you don't have to define yourself by that! Your main character essence is more so about deciding whether you want to keep living in the darkness or embrace a more positive path. To know that happiness is possible. And to also trust in yourself. You might believe you don't deserve a stable, functioning relationship or that you'd inevitably screw it up. But, your life does not have to be defined by these self-fulfilling prophecies. You are often way too convinced that your pessimism and fear are reality.

There is this meme that I cannot stand that goes "You can't hurt me. I seen it coming two months ago when I was overthinking." Maybe you like that meme or have posted it before and feel called out lmao. Well, I say this to say that mentality is bullshit. Overthinking is nothing but a defense mechanism. But, like all defense mechanisms, we think it's helping us when it is often only robbing us of actual, genuine happiness. It's all motivated by fear and a need to stay safe. I know I am psychoanalyzing a meme but I saw people in the comments of that post arguing about how right it is and how they do the same thing and that it isn't toxic and that just troubled me lol. But I digress. Long story short, you don't need your defense mechanisms and protective walls as badly as you think you do.

I am also getting a message about a relationship in particular that could be very pivotal. But it will be pivotal because it will be the catalyst for you to find real happiness, either with this person or in general. You don't feel very worthy of good things and you may not feel good enough for this remarkable and impressive love interest, who will be all that and a bag of chips to you (and many others). But putting them on too high a pedestal is a sign that you need to love yourself. This person may either explicitly or indirectly compel you to do that. In spite of the positive lessons, there could be something tragic about this situation. It may end in more heartbreak but you could turn it all into a valuable experience, if you let it. Or maybe, fittingly, for your dramatic life, there's a big breakup but even bigger reconciliation. In any case, you are being challenged to be very conscious of the narrative you craft for yourself. Do you want to continue the drama or do you want to flip the script and live the happy life that you deserve?

////////

PILE 4

Nine of Cups

(The Hierophant)

Knight of Swords - reversed

(Three of Wands)

Three of Cups - reversed

(Six of Swords - reversed)

The High Priestess

(Four of Pentacles - reversed)

Ten of Pentacles

Pile 4, I can tell right off the bat that y'all are my wild things. I wouldn't be surprised if you were also drawn to Pile 1. (But, only check it out if you were. Don't let me sway you) There was a similar feeling there but it was more free and whimsical. This pile is a little more... dangerous, I would say. Not in a psychotic way. Just extreme and bold in a way that may unnerve others at times. And even if you don't think you're all that crazy, I would say you do a good job of acting more restrained or "respectable." But, you can really live on the edge: making radical changes or life decisions, taking risks others wouldn't dare take, throwing caution to the wind.

I keep hearing that Born To Be Wild song and I don't want to disturb the flow of my channeling by Googling the artist. Lol but you probably know which one I am talking about. A few rock songs, actually. Lithium by Nirvana is another one, which makes sense. I think you feel as if traditional society wants to stifle you, place you in this cage and force you to conform. Your family of origin, in particular, might be very conservative and I don't mean politically. I just mean having very rigid or judgmental ideas about what's right or acceptable. But, you were not having that. I get big "black sheep" vibes from this pile. Yet, I think you had to grow into that. Many of you may have succumbed to your family's pressures and expectations when you were growing up because you had no choice. Now? You live life solely on your own terms.

It's notable that you chose the only picture outdoors, in the wilderness. You might have a deep love of Nature or outdoorsy ventures like hiking or camping. More so, it represents that unfettered spirit you have. Travel is also being highlighted. Some of you may life very far from your hometown and like it that way. I don't see you as the type of person eager to go to their high school reunion or something. Far from it. I think you are so adventurous and forward-moving that you are constantly outgrowing your past experiences. Or, more accurately, at times, trying to outrun them.

Growing up, you may have felt like your hometown was too small or boring to contain you. Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson could be significant. You dreamed of the exciting, fulfilling life you'd be having once you grew up and got out. You were the school or town outcast/misfit. While you have successfully escaped that environment, I think you may underestimate how much you're still carrying it with you. There is a certain trauma that stems from being so harshly judged by family or peers and so unable to truly be what they want you to be. Instead of compensating for that all the time with your fierce confidence (which is a strength, don't get me wrong), you could benefit from honestly addressing and healing that.

You also might be surprised to recognize how much you have been positively shaped by where you come from. And this could just mean the actual place. After all, you can take the boy/girl out of (your hometown/state/country) but you can't take it out of the boy/girl. You might, after years of travel and adventure and living in various places, finally be able to circle back and honor your roots, possibly by even moving back. Time heals wounds and maybe you'll fall in love with your old stomping grounds again after some maturity and absence. This could also reconnect you with many people from your past, like old friends or even family, if you're comfortable or things are healthy enough. As you get older, after a lifetime as the prodigal son/daughter, you may be shocked to suddenly become very family-oriented and (dramatic gasp!) even traditional. A little bit. Kind of. Especially if you start your own family, which I think you will absolutely adore if you do.

So, your main character arc can be of the chaotic wild child who gradually settles down in life. But, you will remain crazy, in the best way, and larger-than-life. You have this amazing magnetic aura as well as this mystique to you. Though you may seem expressive and out-there, people don't know you nearly as well as they think they do. I especially get an image of this when you're in "new territory". You can be that exciting yet enigmatic figure in a community that people know little about. I think you like sharing your story in specific ways you can control, like maybe through a blog/vlog, your art, or just if and when it feels necessary. Otherwise, much about you is shrouded in mystery, even day-to-day things (you probably rarely post on social media or don't even have it). But this just leaves others wanting more!

However, you seem to know everyone else's secrets. Like Pile 1, you are very intuitive, even psychic, and you are learning the value of sharing the messages you receive. Whether it's crazy dreams about others, downloads you think the collective needs to hear, or anything else you pick up on or observe, share it. Start a spirituality blog or a Tarot channel. You are often surprised at how deeply your words resonate and impact people, at how dead-on you are. But I also think you're at a place in your journey where it's not as much of a shock. You are gradually recognizing the power of your gift(s) and putting it to good use.

I also have to say that people are highly attracted to you but also often equally scared of you. It's the power you exude and the freedom you insist on. In terms of dating, I think your level of self-possession and the respect you command allows you to avoid a lot of fuckery. Lol people do NOT try it with you, particularly controlling behavior. You absolutely demand your freedom and accept nothing less. This attitude is part of what makes you so sexy yet also scary to lovers who can't handle you. But, you'll have a good time regardless. I think you'll reap many of the benefits of your sex appeal when you're sowing your wild oats. Great freedom can be found in unapologetically being casual and open with your sexuality. However, after an iconic era (or even lifetime) of being confidently unattached, you may be very surprised to wake up one day in a long stable marriage with a gang of kids. And your sense of freedom and confidence will remain. Whatever you do, you fully commit and trust that it's right for you.

[kalegreeneyes]

Feb 1 - Chocolate - 971 words - @wolfstarmicrofic

“I don’t think you understand how important this is,” Sirius stresses, hands fisting in his own hair and pulling at it in his frustration.

“Why does Moony’s birthday present matter so much this year?” James asks, flopping back on his bed in their dorm while he watches Sirius pace.

“Because it just does okay? It does,” Sirius groans, spinning in place to continue pacing in the opposite direction.

It matters so much to Sirius this year because he finally cast his patronus about a month ago and hasn’t told anyone about it. It matters because he’s finally realized why Moony is different to him than Prongs and Wormtail. When he holed himself up in the room of requirement and ran through his happiest memories until he managed to finally, finally land on one that worked, it just so happened to be the one of Remus's face when they told him about having become animagi for him. He had looked right at Sirius like he just knew it was his idea, and the look of sheer awe on his face had made Sirius feel more important than he ever had in his entire life. So, Sirius had focused on that look in his mind’s eye until the feeling it gave him filled his entire body and burst from the tip of his wand. Sirius had watched with amazement as what he initially thought was a dog, namely Padfoot, started running in the air around the room. Then, it got a bit closer, and Sirius’s heart had nearly given out when he realized that it wasn’t Padfoot at all. It was Moony.

Sirius’s entire world shifted on its axis in that moment. He knew there was something different; something that kept him up at night more frequently than not, something that had him staring at Remus whenever he got the chance–but he just hadn’t put it together. He hadn’t even considered that he could like other blokes until then, but as the light of the patronus faded and left Sirius cast in dim candlelight, it was glaringly obvious that not only could he, he did. So, naturally, he’s spent the entire past month panicking and trying desperately to figure out if there’s any chance at all that Remus could feel the same. It’s made things weird. Very weird. He’s come to the conclusion that he has to rip the bandaid off and show Remus his patronus, but he’s absolutely terrified that it might ruin their friendship. 

“I have something…special for him,” Sirius explains, keeping it vague, “but I’m worried that it might ruin his birthday. And everything else, so. I don’t know what to get him as a back-up present just in case the first thing goes horribly wrong, and it’s tomorrow, and I’m freaking the fuck out!”

“I’ve noticed,” James chuckles unhelpfully. “I don’t really know how to help if you won’t tell me what you’re giving him that might ruin his birthday? But, I mean, you could give it to him on another day?”

“NO! I can’t! It’s kind of a big deal, so it obviously has to be on his birthday!”

“Alright, well. I can’t help you there, but I do have a solid solution for his back-up present,” James smirks, holding up the invisibility cloak in one hand and the Marauders’ Map in the other.

*****

Remus follows Sirius through the doorway into the room of requirement long after everyone else has gone to bed on the night of his birthday, feeling a bit nervous and a lot confused. Sirius has been treating him strangely for the entire past month, and Remus hasn’t been able to get any sense of why. It isn’t like he can become an illegal animagus for him a second time. 

They walk into the center of the open space the room created for them, a few couches and flickering candelabras around the outside of the inner circle where Sirius stops to stand across from him. Sirius just stands there biting his lip and wringing his hands until Remus can’t take it anymore.

“Sirius, why did you bring me here?” he asks, frustration slipping into his tone. It’s been a hard month of not knowing what’s going on.

“I just- I wanted to give you your present, but it had to be in private,” Sirius starts. He swallows harshly, uncertainty apparent in his gaze. “Before I show you, I just want you to know that this doesn’t have to change anything.”

“Okay?” Remus says cautiously.

“Okay. Okay, here goes,” Sirius says on a deep breath, then holds his wand out and closes his eyes. After a few moments, the stunning blue light of a patronus pours out of his wand and fills the room. Remus blinks a few times to adjust, watching dumbfoundedly as the unmistakable form of a wolf sprints over his head. His heart starts hammering in his chest as he brings his gaze back down to Sirius, standing there across from him, looking small and scared.

“Is that–?” Remus asks. Sirius bites his lip and nods with a thick swallow. 

Remus is across the room in a split second, hands on either side of Sirius’s face to pull him into a kiss that was a long time coming. Time stands still for them both, and they’re breathless when they pull away.

“I never could have guessed,” Remus laughs against his mouth. “I thought your present was going to be something normal, like-”

“Chocolate?” Sirius asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and pulling out two full handfuls of chocolate frogs.

Remus laughs and laughs, taking them out of his hands. The next time they kiss, sprawled out on one of the couches five minutes later, Remus could swear that the taste of chocolate has never been sweeter.

[ghostchems]

the devil’s damsel - cardinal secondo x female!reader (dark fic) - part two

after one mistake, you end up in the belly of the beast.

warnings/tags: some SERIOUS dub-con here. secondo is a creep. reader doesn't know what to think. manipulation at it's finest. this is a DARK FIC. MDNI! 18+! I MEAN IT! ao3 link :3 (read part one here)

Your eyes flutter open and it takes some time for them to adjust to the dim light of your surroundings. Something heavy is draped over you. You spin your head and notice it’s a blanket, a quilted blanket that oozes comfort. A deep sigh falls from your lips, feeling soothed for the first time since ending up here. You are sure it is some sort of manipulation tactic but the blanket is so soft, so smooth – you could curl up beneath it and let yourself drift off back to sleep.

So, you do.

The next time you wake up, you’re not alone. Secondo is sitting at a chair that he must have brought down himself, leafing through a book. He is in a pair of slacks, dress shirt and a black vest today, “dressed down” compared to his usual black cassock. He is immediately aware that you’re awake and slowly closes his book, resting it in his lap. You stare at him from the bed, your head barely peeking out from beneath the blanket. Secondo tilts his head at you, a small grin tugging at his lips.

“Enjoying the comfort, si?” He stands, his book dropping to the floor. You hate how he looks at you like you’re some kind of helpless animal that he is going to tear apart. You slink further beneath the blanket and turn onto your side to face the wall but you know you can’t just ignore him. That usually just made him more angry.

“How is mia piccola puttana today?” Secondo purrs as you feel him start to tug at the blanket. “Happy to see me, I hope.” He yanks at it harder and pulls it down your body until you are exposed. You stay laying on your stomach, keeping your head down. A gloved finger drifts up your back only to stop at the back of your neck. “Ah, you are grumpy today. I see that—“

“You made a mistake.” Your voice is muffled by the mattress. 

“Quello?”

“You made a mistake bringing me here.” You lift your head slowly and turn to look at him. “You want to break me but I’m already broken. I already doubted. I already had stray thoughts.” You can’t hold back the tears as your voice cracks. Secondo glares down at you, the amused sneer wiped clean off his face. He grips your neck hard and gives it a tug, forcing you to a sitting position. 

“You need to be washed.” Secondo grunts and rips the blanket off of you before grabbing you by the arm to force you to your feet. There isn’t much fight left in you so you let him, still dragging your feet beside him as he brings you to a stool in the room. You sit down on it, your arms still bound behind you and you wait. You can hear him grabbing things but you don’t bother to look.

Suddenly, you feel a warm, damp cloth run along your shoulder and you manage a soft sound of surprise. Secondo only grunts in response and continues to work his way along your shoulders and down your arms, ringing the cloth out every so often in a bucket of hot water. It feels strangely soothing, especially when he pushes your hair to the side and eases you forward as he starts to gently wash your back. 

You try to keep the sounds you want to make buried deep inside you while he continues to wash your body. He ends up on his knees in front of you, working diligently on your legs and thighs. Secondo’s eyes meet yours as he gets closer to your inner thigh, drifting up close to your core. You whimper quietly once he reaches it but it doesn’t last long, making it clear that he is only trying to clean you up. 

Though, once the cloth starts to reach your stomach and chest… his eyes start to wander your body and the warm cloth brushes over your breast. You watch as his mouth drops open and a low growl rumbles up from his chest. Secondo takes his time with your breasts, the cloth teasing at your nipples. You feel your face flush and you start to chew on your lower lip. You’ve never been touched this way before and it feels good but you won’t give him the satisfaction.

He gives another low moan before his eyes dart back up to yours, seemingly snapping out of being lost in you. Secondo’s lips curl into a grin and you can feel yourself start to warm up. He slowly brings himself to his feet and you catch a glimpse of the bulge in his pants and then immediately avert your graze. Silence fills the room for a brief moment as he settles himself behind you again. He draped a towel across you and tucks it around your body, covering you up. 

You start to get up from the stool but his firm hand grasps your shoulder and forces you back down. Your body is buzzing in a way you’ve never felt before and it starts to feel overwhelming. Secondo’s hand starts to brush through your tangled hair and though it hurts, you feel a bit thankful that he’s paying attention to it. He uses his other hand and what appears to be a cup to dampen your hair with warm water and his strong hands continue to work at the knots.

Secondo starts to massage shampoo into your scalp and you have to bite back a quiet moan. You close your eyes and take in all of his careful touches, trying to imagine that you’re in a hair salon with a fancy stylist and not a dingy basement with your captor. He carefully rinses the shampoo out of his hair and runs his fingers through your damp, smooth hair. He wraps your hair in a smaller towel and hovers close to you still.

“We are all broken, agnellino. You mustn’t be ashamed of it.” Secondo whispers softly into your ear, his mouth just grazing it before he nibbles on your earlobe. His hands move from your shoulder down to your chest and he starts to pull at the top of your towel. Heat starts to move in your core, his hot breath heavy in your ear. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your thoughts. You should act on them. Take what you want.” His voice is a low growl now.

Your eyes drift down to watch what he’s doing as he undoes the front of your towel. His hands are ungloved for the first time since you’ve been here and you watch while he starts to ghost his fingers over your breasts. You suck in a breath, his hands beginning to massage them as he presses kisses along your neck. He plays with your nipples, his thumb brushing against them before he starts to pinch at them. Your body shudders and you can’t fight back a hushed moan, especially as he continues massaging.

Secondo sucks at your neck and scraps his teeth along the sensitive skin, tasting you. You’ve never been touched this way and you start to feel hot all over, your cheeks flushing red and your eyes growing heavy. He lets go of you with one last pinch of your nipple and you swallow thickly, wanting nothing more than for him to continue. You feel his hands on the rope around your wrists and he loosens them before taking them off of you completely. 

You fling them to the front of your body, your eyes examining them and taking him the wounds around your wrists from the rope. Why is he doing this? Your eyes drift from your hands to Secondo who is now sitting back on his heels, kneeling in front of you with hungry eyes. 

“Little lamb, you were taught to be ashamed of pleasure.” He leans in close to you and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in even closer. Your heart is thundering in your chest as he lowers his head to nip at your jaw. “So oppressed. So needy. You poor thing.” Secondo growls and dips his head down to press open mouthed kisses along your chest. You’re trembling against him, your entire body feeling like it’s on fire as heat starts to pool between your legs.

He settles at your breasts and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hands cling to his shoulders, fingernails digging into his dress shirt as his tongue flicks along your nipple. Your eyes flutter shut and a loud sigh flows through your lips. 

“Secondo…” You whisper hoarsely and he growls in response, releasing your nipples to move to the other. Your back arches and your toes curl as he licks at your breast, his eyes darting up to yours every so often only to see them half shut. His fingers start to rub your lower back as he continues to suck on your nipple. You give another soft moan and move to dig your fingers in his hair, your back arching while you tilt your head back. 

“You’ve never been worshiped before.” He groans against you and you can feel it rumble in your chest. “You are so beautiful, agnellino.” 

The want is so strong. You want him. You need him. It’s consuming you. Your legs are trembling and you can’t stop panting, your fingers tugging at his hair. Secondo buries his face in your chest, kissing and biting at you in between moans. You open your legs and he slips between them, pressing his face further into your chest. For a moment, you forget everything he’s put you through, lost in his touch and the feeling of his mouth. 

Secondo pulls away slowly, his dark eyes meeting yours. He is as flushed as you are, his cheeks red and the black paint around his eyes smudged. He brings his hand up to stroke your cheek before running this thumb along your lips, his one hand dipping down between his legs to touch himself. You watch as he frees himself from his pants, gasping sharply at the sight of him. His cock is long and thick with precum collecting at the tip.

He pushes his thumb into your mouth and starts to stroke himself, his own lips parted and his eyes fixated on you. You can’t look away from his cock, watching with each stroke how it flexes and pulses.

“Suck.” Secondo growls, tearing your attention back to his face. You close your lips around his thumb and do as you’re told. A growl rumbles up through his throat, his eyes darting from your lips to your breasts. You watch as his breath starts to catch in his throat and his hips start to jerk. He presses down on your tongue hard, moaning as he forces your mouth open and then he rubs his slick thumb over your lips.

Secondo’s hand moves to your shoulder and he grips it tightly as he pumps his cock. His eyes start to flutter and his breathing grows more erratic. He growls deeply as he cums, thick ropes landing on your legs and the front of your towel. Your eyes are wide while you watch him catch his breath, his head hung low. Secondo lifts it slowly and moves his hand to your cheek, looking at you with hazy, dark eyes. He gives your cheek a light slap before standing and wiping the cum off of your legs using your towel, then pulls it off of you to use it to clean himself.

You can’t bring yourself to say anything. You don’t know what you are supposed to say. You end it sitting up on the stool, hugging yourself with your newly freed hands, your legs still trembling and sweat trickling down your back. He walks behind you but you stay facing forward, unable to shake the sudden feeling that you gave in to him — and the Devil. Secondo shuffles behind you, then drapes a black t-shirt over your chest.

“A reward.” He sneers, then gives you a pat on the shoulder. “I must go now, agnellino — don’t miss me too much, I will be back.” 

And, he’s gone again, leaving you alone with your thoughts after what you’ve just done.

[visionsofmagic]

⎯ one in nine realms [mini series] “chapter 7”

[masterlist]

[previous chapter] [next chapter]

▸summary: heimdall feels anger, y/n have fun with it.

▸wc: 2.3k

▸warnings & tags: reading minds, jealous!heimdall, thor’s and y/n’s bond, y/n having big sis energy, fluff, anger, monologues, inner thoughts (so much), hei become a dickhead, pov switch, hei!pov, cutie!atreus. [clue for the next chap; intimate moment of hei and y/n ^^]

  Heimdall was angry. Definitely. He was angry and he didn't know why.

Maybe he knew but he would never admit his anger to himself because of the fact that he began to feel it, raising beneath his skin, after seeing the scene in front of his eyes that can see everything purely and entirely; you are being so close to Thor, Odin's other son who has no brain at all to use, like he is one of your friends, like he is not your enemy like other Aesir people.

From the corner he was standing, leaning to a huge wall, he was watching your conversation with Thor. There was so much noise around the realm that disturb his hearing abilities but from reading both your and Thor's mind, even if he had zero thoughts to going on because of his stupidity.

You were smiling. So much even. There were a few touches that exchanged between the two of you; you touched his big chest, he touched your shoulder to squeeze it. From the thoughts you two had, he can clearly understand that you were just an old friend for Thor, he really loved Sif and surprisingly, he was feeling - happy to see you. On the other hand, you were happy to. You were treating him like he was no Aesir, the enemy of Kratos, your dear friend as he saw in your thoughts. To save Atreus, to help Kratos, you came all these ways. He knew you and Kratos had a bond but he didn't expect you to have a friendship bond with Thor as well.

He knew you two didn't have a intimate bond other than friendship but well, he couldn't help himself; the odd feeling, which would call as jealousy, landed right into his heart and mind. He didn't like what he saw; you with Thor. No, he didn't like it at all.

So, when you really laughed happily, his hand became a fist. Why he was feeling - mad? You didn't mean anything to him, not a single thing. You were just a Goddess who could be enemy of his people anytime. He shouldn't trust you - he shouldn't think about you. He should make you leave the Asgard as soon as possible, the realm he had to protect, his home but an inner voice kept saying how he wanted to make you stay, in Asgard, with him.

Your unexpected impact of him wasn't something he could avoid. It was attacking to the body, mind and heart like a void. He was having a weakness because of you. He was - thinking. Something he didn't want to because when he would begin to think, his mind goes crazy, he knew that.

To stop his thoughts, to stop watching you have a discussion with Thor about Atreus and the mask mission, he turned to other side only to see the Valkyrie he talked a few days ago while you two were riding on Gulltoppr. Valkyrie walked towards him after meeting with his gazes. He even didn't notice her presence around, looking directly to his direction because of your existence in his mind that makes him just focus on you.

"Heimdall," Valkyrie's seductive voice didn't work on him but he kept a cocky expression on his face. "It's good to see you finally," She looked at you, "Alone."

Smirking, Heimdall said, "Well, it's not a secret that I have quite popularity in Asgard. It's hard for me to have a available moment."

She looked at him with a well-knowing expression. Pointing at your direction, she added, "They said she was an outsider. Someone as low as her should not allow in -"

"She is All-Father's guest." His voice was higher than he intended to. "Are you trying to say his choice about guests is wrong?"

Valkyrie tried to defense herself, waving her hands in front of Heimdall, "You got me wrong. I didn't mean to judge All-Father's choices."

Heimdall looked at her eyes, not wanting to continue this argument any longer. He was mad but not to Valkyrie but to himself because after her speech, Heimdall didn't protect Odin's wishes, no, he protected you.

He realized that Valkyrie was putting you in a lower life form and without a particular reason, he felt offended. No one but except him could make fun of you or saying harsh things. You were - you were on his protecti - no! not protection, he said to himself, you were on his watch.

While fighting with his own feelings and thoughts, a voice coming from other side took his interest.

As he looked that way, he saw half-breed, running towards you. A smile grew on your face as Heimdall's gazes traveled your pretty face -

"Will you come tonight?"

Valkyrie asked, making Heimdall realize her presence again. Without saying anything, he waved his hand towards Gulltoppr. "Dunno. Just keep what you are doing." Then, he got up on the top of Gulltoppr.

° ° °

"Y/n!"

Atreus' happy voice came from other side, making you jump at his high pitch sound. "Atreus!"

Opening your arms, you hugged his smaller body, welcoming his arrive happily.

"I missed you."

"Me too!" He turned to Thor who was standing silently. "Oh, Thor, ugh, hi?"

Exchanging glances with Thor, you tried not to chuckle at Atreus nervous behavior.

"It's okay Atreus. He has no harm." Turning to your old friend who now had his arms crossed on his huge chest, you furrowed, "Right?"

Nodding slowly, Thor said, "As long as he doesn't think to play with me."

"Of course not!" Atreus defended himself, "So," He pointed you and Thor, "How come you know each other?"

Smirking, you said, "It's a long story. I will tell about it as we go back to your room, okay?"

Nodding to you, Atreus smiled. "I have lots of adventures to tell, y/n! Thor and I already found another piece for the mask! Do you want to see it?"

As he made a move to pick up the mask he had on his back belt, a voice you missed to hear suddenly came out of nowhere, "Well, well. Isn't this a beautiful sight to see? Three people under All-Father's orders became one."

Rolling your eyes, you looked at Heimdall who was riding his horse, Gulltoppr while smirking playfully. The sun's light was licking his pretty face and good looking body features as his eyes' color began to shine more.

"Heimdall," Thor's deep voice interrupted your shared look with Heimdall, "Where is All-Father?"

Heimdall smirked, "In his personal room of course. Why are you asking though? Will you try to tell," He waved his hands to point Atreus, "How you become friends with this half-breed? Or," He pointed at you, "Will you say how his other guest who is another enemy of our people is already friend of yours?"

Oh, you thought, how you expected him to see you as a friend, not an enemy of his people. You thought you were really having a bond, he was - liking you but you were wrong. Heimdall was a God that only cared for himself and All-Father. He didn't need anyone's friendship, especially you, the enemy.

Well, maybe - A complex thought caught you and before Heimdall read your mind, you acted.

"He already knows it." You said to him, referring to Odin, "He was the one who helped us to meet, isn't that right Thor?" You smiled, "Do you remember the first time we met?"

Thor smiled too, showing how he remembered it and felt happy. The first time you met was for another day to tell but you had a relationship with ups and downs because of your marching personality; hard-headed warriors. He was the one who made you realize what you were doing. He was covered in blood already, head to toe but he wanted you to go, to reach the freedom you deserve. He was, maybe, the only Aesir God who you would have so much fun with.

Turning to Atreus who was looking at you and Thor with his cute little eyes, you said, "C'mon, we should get going." Taking him by shoulder, you even didn't give a short look to Heimdall who was silent felt like an age. Smiling to yourself, you realized how funny you found his silence posture. Well, he wasn't the only one who had cocky attitudes after all.

"See you soon Thor."

After that, you left two sons of Odin with Atreus. As you believed, they had a discussion to make.

° ° °

You were playing with him. Heimdall knew it with all his heart. Reading your filthy and complex mind became an addict for him that he want to do every moment of the time you two had.

He hated liars, especially those who thought they could lie to him particularly. However, you weren't them. No, you never lie to him or to yourself. You weren't hiding your thoughts, yes, sometimes you made it more complex for him to understand but it was a defensive manner, he got it eventually. But you never lied. Even right now, you didn't hide how you wanted to make him mad and even jealous about your relationship with Thor. You expressed your own feelings about Thor and the bond you had while not being afraid to show it to Heimdall who was standing there like a statue, feeling a little anger coming out of you. He knew the source of this little anger; him calling you an enemy.

He didn't mean to actually, he didn't mean to be a cocky God this time. It was just his nature. His defense mechanism.

Jealous he felt before he came to your side made him act like this; hostile.

Even if he knew what you were doing, making him mad and jealous, he couldn't help but feeling them. You were right about thinking that the whole thing you had with his dummy step brother would touch his nerves. You were enemy of his people, yes, but right now, he wasn't sure whether you really was an enemy of his or not. He wanted to take you in but he simply couldn't. It was not his nature.

"She is long gone." Thor said, making Heimdall turn to his side as he stopped looking at the direction you went.

"What are you talking about?"

Heimdall wasn't reading his mind, not wanting to see what Thor's dummy mind had on it.

"You are looking to that direction for too long but she's already gone." Moving with his huge body slowly, Thor smirked, "You are like any of us after all."

Anger that Heimdall felt this particular day was enough.

"I will not deal with your nonsense. I have better and more important work to do." Making a sarcastic bow to Thor, he began to ride Gulltoppr again. As he was leaving Thor and all events that happened behind, he heard his last words, "Whatever you say."

Deep down, he knew what Thor thought - he thought how Heimdall became fond of you, how he - he was acting like the way Thor acted when he found Sif.

No! - Heimdall shouted to himself. He didn't want to think. He just needed to leave this place, to shut his mind down.

In the end, he was heading towards the Valkyrie's practice area. He needed to turn back the way he was before you entered to the Asgard, to his life.

° ° °

“Then, Thor helped me to take the piece! He didn’t leave me to death. I think he is not a bad guy after all.”

Smiling to Atreus’ exciting posture while he was telling you the adventure he had with Thor, you caressed his hair, “He is just broken. I assume you already saw that too.”

Nodding sadly, Atreus added, “He looks like he is lost.”

“Indeed he is,” Sitting on the bed of your room which Odin gave you as thanks, you said with a serious tone, “But we can’t trust any of them. They are still see us as their enemies. They can do whatever they need to do if Odin just orders. So,” You touched both of Atreus’ arms gently while he listened you carefully, “We will be careful and we will hold each other’s back. Got it cutie?”

Rolling to the nickname you used for him, he stand up from the bed, “Don’t call me that!”

Chuckling to his cute expressions and eyes, you waved your hand, “Okay, I will not. But if you give me a promise.” You rose your little finger, “Promise?”

Nodding to you, Atreus took the little finger you gave him with his smaller one, “Promise.”

Holding him by his little finger, you smiled, “Don’t forget I am here only for you Atreus and no one, even Thor, can hurt you. I will not let them.”

Admire he felt towards you occurred on his blue eyes who held skies on them, making you feel like a protector and even his big sister. Everything that came out of your mouth was facts; no one and even Thor who was probably a lot stronger than you now can not hurt him. You would not allow them to. You would cut their head off if they try to raise a hand towards Atreus. Giving him a short hug, you kissed his cheek which he cleaned immediately but having pink color on his cheeks. You laughed, “I will leave you now. I have to speak with Odin. Then, we can go to travel the realm together. Would you like to do it?”

Atreus nodded happily, “I would love to!”

“Wait for my return, then.”

As you made your way out of the room, Atreus’ shy but happy voice came from behind, “Y/n,” he said. You looked at his smaller body while he was scratching his back hair shyly, “I am glad you are here. With me. Thank you so much.”

Feeling so happy that you give him a big smile, “Me too, Atreus, me too.”

Then with that, you left him alone to speak with Odin. You need to make new arrangements, especially about his favorite boy Heimdall.

TO BE CONTINUED.

taglist: @iinterdimensionals , @Konigdi1ks0ck , @onlydeas​ , @hayleethefrog​ , @tartagliasrighthand​ , @whywouldiknowsstuff , @importantvoidpolice​ , @itsnat​ , @armanibxtch​ , @dott-up​ , @chiyausu​ , @lokigirlszendaya​ , @potentplant​ , @milf-to-be-anny​ , @elizabeth-hatake​ , @kuinnoa​ , @anna6anana​ , @animebestofriendo ^^

♡

sorry for make you wait so long because of my semester’s ending, lots of works, etc. but I hope you liked the chap! I promise you the next one will be better because I already want them to get into “real” action,  so, be ready! ^^

[likes, comments and all other things are appreciated! thank u so much!]

[kammieceleek]

A Personal Farewell to a Fic

So...

I've done these before, usually as a last note for a fic I did very few author's notes on, but I've never done one on Tumblr and most people probably don't want to hear this, but fuck it, I'm writing it.

This is my personal farewell to Bride of the Monster Duke, a fic that to this day is my longest and most popular and will probably remain so for quite a while. It's a fic that has a lot of meaning to me as a project and a symbol of how far I've come in a decade of writing fanfiction, and looking back on those ten years I've definitely come a long way from that lonely thirteen-year-old writing Warriors and Gravity Falls fanfic in her room.

And honestly, to that thirteen-year-old, I wanna say you've got this. Don't stop writing, don't stop creating, don't give up on anything because one day, you're gonna write things that people will love. You're finding yourself in your work, someone that people will love and care about deeply if you just take the time to put it out there and find those people.

Anyway, this is about a current work done by me in my twenties, not soothing my inner child, heh.

I started BOTMD as a personal project last May, inspired by a love of romance fantasy manhwa, at the time not realizing that not only would it become my most popular story ever but it would lead me to meeting friends online, people I probably never would've met otherwise. Star (love you so much, funky little internet-sis) and I were in the same server, but the same could not be said of Storm (love you too, big internet-sibling!). I only got into contact with them because I put this particular work out and they read it. And that's not even mentioning all the artists who for some unknown reason thought my writing was good enough to make art for it.

I was utterly flabbergasted with how much love BOTMD received, and I cannot be more grateful than I already am for everyone who's ever read the fic. Whether you found it on day one or you're finding it a year from now, everyone who's given the story this level of love and support deserves the biggest fucking internet hug I can give.

Thank you, everyone.

Thank you to the artists who brought this brainchild to life.

Thank you to Dana Terrace and the Owl Crew for bringing me this show that I fell in love with.

Thank you to Hunter and Willow for being my biggest inspiration and the source of my biggest writing streak in years.

Thank you to Star and Storm for sticking by me with this story and helping me write it, even when I was being weird and crazy, and for being my partners on our next project, Legends of Gravesfield.

And of course, thank you to the readers, because you guys made sure this story went around and more people read it.

Love all of you.

So long and thanks for all the fish!

[shivvroys]

the cost of our desired wrongs

shivlina oneshot set during 'too much birthday'

for @jeniffercheck <333 and part of the shivlina fic exchange

cw: panic attacks

read below or on ao3

hold me like we're dying from the liquor that we drank down in hotel rooms,

to feel warm in cold love

-

Karolina’s already worn out by the time she gets to the venue. But the world moves to the sway of Logan Roy’s hand, so here she is, still dressed in her work clothes and bickering with a girl that has rhinestones glued to the inner corners of her eyes.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have you on the list.” The girl looks far from sorry.

It takes all of Karolina’s strength not to flick those stupid little gems clean off the girl’s face. Instead, she puts on her tightest smile, and pulls out her phone, ready to text Logan a sincere apology and go home. He’d been giving her shit ever since Kendall’s meltdown at the press conference. One more temper tantrum would be just another drop in the bucket.

“No fucking way. Look sis, Dad got us a new nanny.” Roman’s shrill voice sends an irritating shiver down her spine, like nails on a chalkboard. “She’s taller than an SUV, right? Just making sure.”

“Hello, Roman.” She turns to see Roman and Shiv walking in, with Tom trailing behind them like an overgrown shadow. Soon enough, Connor and Willa join them. Karolina starts to get a nauseating feeling of déjà vu.

“Hi, guys.” she greets the rest of the Roy litter. Shiv raises a pointed eyebrow.

“Hi, Karolina. Dad doesn’t think we can sweeten the swede without someone holding our hand, or are you just here to keep Kendall from nailing himself to a golden Supreme cross?” The green dress and tussled curls almost dull the sting of Shiv’s dig. Even as a joke, the suggestion of holding Shiv’s hand in public settles like lead in her belly.

Before she gets the chance to respond, Connor cuts in.

“I just want to say, before the flies starts buzzing—this had nothing to do with my physical prowess. I was inebriated.”  He points to the brace on his arm. Jesus fucking Christ, this family.

“I’m sure no one would doubt that.” He seems to take that as a compliment, judging by the way his eyes light up. Next to him, Willa shoots her a pointed glare, her arm wrapping tighter around Connor’s uninjured one.

As the rest of the group pass by the girl at the entrance and her stupid fucking list, Shiv hangs back, turning to Karolina.

“What, cold feet?” she asks, pointing to the nauseating pink hallway leading into the club.

“I’m not on the list, apparently.” Karolina shrugs.

“Unfortunately, I can’t let guests in unless they’re on the list.” the girl pipes up, gripping her little clipboard like a life raft.

Shiv throws Karolina a wicked smile, before pinning the girl down with a glare.

“Well she’s on Forbes’s 50 Most Powerful Women in Media. That good enough of a fucking list for you?” She barely lets the girl gasp out a surprised breath, before all but dragging Karolina with her down the hallway. Neither of them turn back to check on the girl.

“That was mean.” Karolina lets out a quiet laugh.

“Well, she better get over it if she doesn’t want those cool rhinestones to fall off with the tears.” she says, her brows furrowed in faux concern. Bathed in the pink glow of the hallway, she looks softer, blurry at the edges in a way that makes Karolina want to grasp her, lest she vanishes into the glowing light. Like a fata morgana, luring Karolina out into the deep end.

“So, uh, did dad really send you to chaperone us?” Shiv asks.

“I don’t know.” she sighs. “He just told me to make sure nothing gets out of hand. You know what he’s like…”

“Never met a room he couldn’t walk into and be the epicenter of, yeah. He’s probably got Kerry refreshing Twitter every two seconds, fiending for updates.” she shakes her head, amused. He was, and he’s had Kerry forward each one to Karolina as well.

As they approach the end of the hallway, Tom’s tall frame comes into view. Shiv pauses, looking down before addressing Karolina.

“Hey, I’ll, uh, see you around? Later?” her lips are pouted and pink, and so terribly inviting, but the looming shadow at the end of the hallway reminds Karolina of who she is, and who she is with.

“I don’t know, Shiv.”

She resists the urge to reach a hand over and smooth out the tiny wrinkles forming between Shiv’s brows, instead breaking eye-contact and looking straight ahead until they’ve reached Tom, where she leaves Shiv behind.  Back on the cold shore, the sand feels like shards of glass under Karolina’s feet, the glow of her beautiful mirage burning even brighter on the back of her eyelids as she walks away from it.

-

She’s two martinis down and fresh out of a very uncomfortable encounter with Kendall, when Logan calls. Karolina wishes the shitty techno music were loud enough to drown out the man’s rough beratement. He’s mad that Karolina hasn’t been keeping enough tabs on all of his children while simultaneously tracking Matsson’s whereabouts. She doesn’t bother trying to explain to the man that his children aren’t joined at the hip, and she can’t split herself into every goddamn corner of the massive club, and even if she could, they were all purposefully avoiding her like the plague anyway. Instead, she throws out ‘yes’s and ‘alright’s and ‘of course, Logan’s like she’s trying to calm down a rabid dog, and resists the urge to smash her phone against the bar top when he hangs up on her.

She motions to the waiter for another drink, and watches the VIP area above, where Roman, Shiv and Kendall are either making up, or breaking each other down. Her money’s on the latter.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Tom and Greg huddled together, whispering like they’re planning a heist. She can feel the dread of her own shame creep inside, but she can’t help the rush of jealousy that washes over her as she sizes Tom up. God, she needs to stop drinking gin when she’s already feeling bitter.

He’s tall, sure, and handsome in an unthreatening way, but where’s the fun in that? What universe had made him and Shiv a match? Did he make her laugh—with his broad shoulders and naïve oafishness? Did Shiv trust her heart to be safe in those big, warm hands? Was he just that good of a fuck?

Briefly, Karolina wonders what it says about her that, for all her inflated sense of superiority, she has essentially become this man’s seat warmer. 

She can’t admit to herself why the sight of him has become so unbearable lately, so she throws back her drink and leaves the bar, hoping to come up with a destination on the way.

-

The lights are starting to look fuzzy and Logan’s texts have turned silly by the time she sees Shiv again. A giant, glossy version of her, anyway.

Wife of Tom Wambsgans.

Karolina stares at the letters until they turn to giant splotches of ink in front of her glassy stare.

“Yeah, you like that?”

Karolina turns to look at Shiv leaning against the doorway.

“I don’t even remember when this picture was taken. I kind of look manic.” Shiv continues, stepping into the room until she’s right next to the giant poster. She tries to mimic the facial expression she’s wearing in the picture.

"It's good. Funny." Karolina sucks in her cheeks, looking into the half-empty glass she’s holding. She can’t remember what number she’s on, but it’s definitely one too many for the conversation she’s recklessly directing them towards.

"What? Wife of Tom Wambsgans—that’s the part you're upset about? Not the bit about me being a street-walker?” Shiv puts on an incredulous smile.

“Does that bit offend you because it implies you need the money?”

That wipes the smile away from Shiv’s face. She crosses her arms, playful mood suddenly deflated.

“Ok, what crawled up your ass and died?” she says, still trying to keep some lightness in her tone.

“It was a joke, Shiv.” It hadn’t been, but Karolina feels weightless and weighed down all at once, and her ears are still ringing from Logan’s screaming. A part of her wants to see if she can get Shiv to match that same pitch and blind outpour of anger. See if they share more than just their eyes.

“Funny.” she clenches her jaw. “Yeah, no—see, if I were making a joke, which—I am, this is a joke.” She gestures to the space between them, that great chasm of joy and fucking laughter.

“If I were making a joke I would say something like—I don’t know, how do you manage to fuck up a task so badly that your boss has to call the people you’re supposed to be tracking to ask where you are? That’s pretty funny, too, right?” she leans back against the poster, eyes narrowed into slits.

Karolina nods, gripping her glass tighter. What makes her eyes sting with tears is the fact that Shiv looks so fucking beautiful right now, her hair messier than she’d normally allow herself to have it, and a dangerous sort of reckless energy illuminating her like a halo. And all Karolina can think about is a fucking phone.

A hunter at heart, Shiv knows that sinking her teeth into frightened game sours the meat, so she knows when to back off and let her prey breathe. Make the chase last longer. And Karolina’s aware of this, she can tell when Shiv’s concern is part of a game she’s playing. So, when she sees her take a deep breath, and cock her head to the side, Karolina knows she’s just sharpening her canines.

“What’s up with that, anyway? He still upset over the press conference?” she asks, brow furrowed like she’s opening on Broadway.

Another drink and Karolina might mistake it for real kindness. Instead, she smiles tightly and shrugs.

“Maybe. Maybe he thought I looked at him funny during a meeting. Does it matter?” she says.

Being reminded that there are always bigger, angrier beasts lurking in the darkness of the forest seems to settle Shiv’s hunger for carnage, so she doesn’t press the issue further.

They are spared from having to say something to fill the silence when Roman barges into the room, instinctively sticking to Shiv’s side like a magnet. Like two blind kittens crawling their way to each other for warmth.

“Hey, I got a pin on Matsson. You coming?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Satisfied with the answer, he turns to Karolina, as if just then noticing her existence.

“Oh, hey Vesper Lynd. How’s the spying going?” he shoots her a shit-eating grin.

“Great. Thank you, Roman.” she keeps her eyes glued to the drink she’s holding.

He doesn’t say anything, throwing Shiv an amused grin before raising his own glass towards Karolina in a mock toast.

Shiv looks like she wants to say something, but it’s gone with a quick tightening of her jaw. Instead, she bumps her arm against Roman’s, motioning towards the doorway. In the haze of the colorful lighting and strong alcohol, Karolina can barely see the line that separates them as they walk away.

Like the mouth of a wave, she turns to the poster and sees that fucking headline looming above her head, its edges sharper than knives.

Wife of Tom Wambsgans.

-

“I’m sorry, Logan, but this doesn’t really fall under my—”

“Yeah, I just pay you a million a fucking year to write flashcards. Consider yourself off duty. Enjoy my son’s fucking tea party!”

Logan makes sure she also catches the fucking useless he spits out before hanging up the phone. This time, her phone gets a screen-full of sticky residue as she slams it down on the table in front of her. The screen doesn’t crack, to her disappointment, instead lighting up with more work emails she’ll probably have to deal with the next day. She doesn’t trust herself to make it to the bar without wobbling, so she wipes the phone on her pants, hoping to get some of the vodka cran off of it. All she gets is a sticky stain on her thigh and the faint urge to vomit. 

She takes that as her cue to slink back home where she can lick her wounds in peace, without a bunch of influencers gyrating against her when she’s just trying to find a spot to sit still in for five goddamn minutes. She doesn’t have the layout of the club memorized, and the flashing lights make her even dizzier than the gin, so trying to find the exit out of this sensory nightmare turns into a very treacherous journey. She can’t even tell where she’s ended up when she sees Shiv make a beeline for her. The music is louder, so all she sees is a disheveled mass of ginger curls and flashing eyes, before Shiv grabs hold of her elbow and drags her into a quieter room. It looks like a giant nursery, complete with a huge, dead-eyed teddy-bear that makes the hair on the Karolina’s neck stand up. 

Shiv doesn’t pay any attention to their deranged playmate, snapping Karolina back to attention.

"Did you know? About dad spying on Kendall's kids?"

Karolina shakes her head, trying to focus on the question. She could swear she had some justification for that prepared in the back of her mind, but she can’t find it through the fog that’s shrouded her mind for weeks like twilight in a cemetery. The only thing she can focus on is the rapid rise and fall of Shiv’s chest. Her eyes must’ve betrayed her, because Shiv takes her silence as an admission of guilt.

"Oh, so that's morally okay to you, but me being married is where you grow a fucking conscience?" Shiv scoffs, crossing her arms.

Karolina could afford many things, but never that. Not anymore.

"Do you think I get a say in what your father decides he wants done?” she tries to emphasize her point by gesticulating, but it comes out awkward and shaky, so she crosses her arms tightly instead, digging her nails into her arms in a vain attempt at sobering up. “I just wag my tail like everybody else in the room and I go fetch.”

“Well, maybe you just like fetching, Karolina.” Shiv throws out sharply.

She shouldn’t have had a sip of that fucking alcohol, because now Karolina watches Shiv’s smug smile and feels every ounce of self-restrain draining from her body. Anger swells inside of her like a balloon, and she watches herself watching it grow, bracing for its explosion. She wants to hurt Shiv in a way that she knows the other woman is familiar with. In a way that will leave them both wrecked and desolate, and begging for more. If there’s anything she’s learnt from spinning like a satellite around Logan Roy’s orbit, it’s to take a punch like sweet wine. To lap it up and stick her cup out for more.

Mostly, though, she wants to kiss Shiv. She wants to run her hands through her hair and rub soft circles along her temples, where her headaches always start. She wants to go home and have Shiv curl herself around her, her body a question mark that Karolina never wants to unravel. 

The room they are in is darker, quieter, but Karolina’s eyes still catch the glint of Shiv’s wedding band, and a loud pop goes off in her head.

“I guess you’re right, Shiv. But you don’t seem to mind when it’s you I’m fetching for, right?” she swallows harshly. “Like when you and Tom have a fight, and you need someone to fuck the anger away? Then I’m convenient.” she watches Shiv’s eyes widen.

“Oh, please! You’re going for the suffering side piece, really? I thought you had more self-respect than that.”

The teddy-bear doesn’t offer any input. The walls, though, start growing darker, crowding in on Karolina.

“No, don’t worry, I know my place in your life. Clear as fucking day.” she throws out a bitter laugh.

At least Shiv looks as haggard as she feels, though it brings Karolina more sorrow than joy.

“Right. That’s why you’ve been acting so sour, huh?” Shiv raises a hand to her chin, letting out an ironic tsk. “Funny, ‘cause I seem to remember you being the one who put out the fucking wedding announcement. And—correct me if I’m wrong, but was that not before you had your legs wrapped around my head like you were the sluttiest little cowgirl at the county fair riding the mechanical bull?” she finishes making her point by shaking her head.

Karolina can tell she’s just getting started, too, just stoking her appetite before diving in for the main course. She tries to come up with something to say, anything to make the knot in her chest release. In the dim hum of the room, she can hear her own ragged breathing. She can feel it crawling over her, that great all-encompassing dread.

She tries to draw herself up to her full height, swallowing the knot growing in her throat. “And what a good job I did, right? Almost made it seem like a real marriage.”

“Better than nothing, though, isn’t it?” Shiv puckers her lips in faux concern. “Tell me, Karolina, who’s waiting for you at home?”

Karolina doesn’t have Shiv’s boarding school background, but she went to a public high-school in a neighbourhood where every kid was fighting to be considered middle-class, so she knows how sweet passive aggression feels dripping off the tongue.

“Siobhan…” she starts. “Do you think that’s sadder than marrying someone whose eyes light up more when he sees your father than when he sees you?”

Despite the drumming in her ears, she catches Shiv’s sharp inhale as the brunt of her words hit her. It’s such a miserable type of satisfaction, to tear at the flesh of a loved one—if she could call the wound they’ve been picking at love.

It feels like a giving up and scratching at chickenpox marks. All those scars for one moment of relief. In the absence of a gentle hand to rub soothing circles of calming lotion over the marks, she supposes it’s only natural to find solace in the pain.       

“You’re fucking pathetic.” Shiv says, as if she’d been contemplating the fact since their very first meeting.

“Am I?” Karolina frowns. She can feel her chest start to strain uncomfortably. She tries to swallow, but finds it increasingly hard to do so.

“Yeah.” Shiv nods, lips downturned in disgust. “You won’t admit it to yourself, but you do like the fact that I’m married, Karolina. Because it makes you feel chosen. But the truth is, you’re just terribly, awfully, pathetically fucking common.”

A common whore, to make matters worse.

She’s not wrong. There had been times where Karolina’s indulged in the smug grin on Shiv’s face as she claimed Karolina’s body, laid her hungry fingers on it and made it hers. Stole gasps out of Karolina’s throat and made them into her own melody. And Karolina let it happened, let the cool glint of Shiv’s eyes brand her like cattle because being someone’s meant she was something to begin with.

These moments though, had been a lowering of arms, a truce at the gates of a castle made of rumpled up sheets. She supposes she should’ve seen it coming, though, because Shiv fucked like she fought – ravenously and without compromise.

“And you’re not, Shiv?” she laughs. “Why? Because your daddy’s the most powerful man in the world, and you’re his pinky?”

She presses a heavy hand to the bridge of her nose, trying to dissipate the dark spots clouding her vision.

Shiv stands before her with clenched fists and a set jaw, and Karolina fights the urge to ask for a kiss with a fist.

Shiv clears her throat, crossing her arms. “That’s why you’re fucking me, though, right?” she scoffs. “Cause you’re too afraid of dick, so I’m the closest you’ll get to fucking all that power?”

“I thought I was fucking you, Shiv. That last name is something only you keep clinging on to.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Shiv laughs. “Stick to your little corporate memos, yeah, Freud.”

“Did you actually read any Freud, or is he just the only psychoanalyst you know?” Karolina says weakly. “You should, if you haven’t—he had some very interesting things to say about fathers and daughters.”

Whatever reaction Shiv might have had, Karolina can’t see it. There’s a war drum pummelling at her head, and a dark cloud settling over her eyes. Her chest feels tight, as if gripped in an invisible vise, and very little skin and sinew separating her heart from the acrid air of the room.

It always starts like this, with crowding walls and a loud ringing that reminds her of those awful national emergency alarms. She tries to focus on Shiv’s face, but it’s hard to make her out in the darkness and the blurry veil of tears gathering in her eyes. Karolina knows she needs to get out, but finds her legs have turned to cinder blocks. Then it gets harder and harder to breathe, until she feels like she’s choking, her diaphragm caving in on itself.

She thinks she hears Shiv call out her name, but the only thing she can focus on is her own shaking hands, grasping at each other. Had she been holding something? Where was her phone? She shakes her head, managing to take a step back when she feels Shiv reaching out for her.

“Don’t. Just—just go, please.”

“Did you take something?” Shiv’s voice cuts through the ringing of her ears. She tries to laugh, but it sounds more like retching.

“Fuck.” she tries to get her breathing under control, digging the heel of her palm into her sternum.

She can’t see that well, but she feels Shiv’s hands flutter anxiously around her.

“Do you want me to get—fuck.” she pauses. “Should I go get help?” Shiv’s voice sounds miles away, a fata morgana promising Karolina something that looks like warmth.

“Just go. Please.” she chokes out. Even under the crushing weight pressing on her chest, Karolina cringes at how pathetic her voice sounds. Like roadkill begging to be put out of its misery.

And Shiv does.

The worried arms withdraw, and suddenly Karolina is alone in a giant nursery, trying to count her breaths along with the ugly stars painted on the walls. She finally manages to take back control of her legs, and slinks to the floor, bracing her head between her knees. Through the tears streaming down her face she catches that godawful teddy-bear staring at her with its cold, unflinching gaze, and thinks back to a time where she thought she might go on to change the world. To make a difference. If she really is dying, if her heart has finally decided to hang up its hat, then it’s only fitting her final judge and jury would be a giant, fake totem massacring the very thing it was meant to represent.

Through her heaving, she doesn’t hear anyone enter the room, until she feels something cold and hard press against the back of her neck, and a firm grip on her wrist.  

“Please don’t puke. Or, like, give me a heads-up.” she hears Shiv whisper.

Karolina’s only heard her speak so softly in the dark of the bedroom, when she’d halfway be hoping not to be heard. Shiv’s hand is cold, too, as she rubs soothing circles on her left wrist, the other hand still holding the cold compress against Karolina’s neck.

“You wanna try stepping outside?”

Karolina shakes her head. It’s barely there, but she feels the slightest easing of pressure on her chest. She tries to focus on the damp coolness on her neck, tries to imagine it spreading throughout her body, soothing the fire burning beneath her skin. She reaches out her right hand blindly, trying to grasp Shiv’s wrist, trying to follow that fervent pulsing of life.

“Yeah?” Shiv says, adjusting her hand so Karolina could grip it better. They stay like that for a while, hands grasped like roman soldiers, Shiv’s quiet sighs and Karolina’s ragged breaths the only sound around them. Karolina wonders briefly if the party’s finished, if they’re the only ones left in this haunted menagerie of broken childhoods. Shiv seems to see her attention slipping away, because she shakes her wrist free, taking Karolina’s palm and placing it above her breastbone.

“Just follow me, yeah?” she murmurs.

Karolina nods, closing her eyes and letting her hand be the only tether to the world, Shiv’s pulse her only guiding light. As her breathing slowly starts to slow down, she contemplates pointing out the fact that Shiv’s own breathing is shaky, her heart trembling like a hummingbird’s wings, but she ultimately decides against it. The warmth of Shiv’s body and the soft silk of her dress are doing a fine job of easing Karolina’s nerves nonetheless.

When she finally feels the fog start to lift from her eyes, she turns to see Shiv watching her intently, with wide eyes and furrowed brows. It scares her, the intensity of Shiv’s gaze. Like she’s not just looking at Karolina, but seeing her. Holding her in her mind as more than a moment in a bed.

“You okay?”

This time Karolina manages a weak laugh. She bites her lip, avoiding Shiv’s steely gaze.

“Mhm.” she nods. “Is that a wine bottle?” she frowns at the object Shiv’s just removed from her neck.

Shiv stars laughing, her wet eyes glinting in the weak light.

“I was gonna get a wet paper-towel or something, but I couldn’t find the bathroom.” she sighs.

“Where’d you find this?”

“Stole it from the bar.” she flashes Karolina a proud grin.

Shaking off the last of her panic attack, Karolina turns a weary head towards Shiv.

“Thank you.”

Shier than she’s ever seen her, Shiv shrugs the gratitude away, changing her position from kneeling by her side to sitting down flush against Karolina’s side, and linking their arms together.

“Would’ve been awkward to just let you die. I mean, who would we even get to draft the press release on such short notice?” she turns to shoot her a serious look.

“Hugo?” Karolina tries.

“Bleugh.” she fake retches. “I wouldn’t that to you, even if we were at each other’s throats.”

She nuzzles her head in the crook of Karolina’s shoulder, her hand fiddling with the sleeve of Karolina’s shirt.

“Why are we—at each other’s throats? Did I do something?” Shiv almost sounds like a scolded child, making the guilt twist itself tighter around Karolina’s heart.

“No.” she sighs. “I...I’ve just had too much to drink and I got bitter and selfish.”

“Yeah, but why?” she presses. “I’m not a dummy, Novotney, whatever I did has been bothering you for longer than this night.”

“You didn’t do anything, Shiv.”

Karolina closes her eyes as Shiv turns her head to look at her, soft gaze burning the side of her face. She clears her throat.

“You’re trying for a baby.” she finally turns to meet Shiv’s gaze, cheeks burning with shame. “And I have no right to be upset about that.”

“What?” Shiv frowns. “Where the fuck did you get that?”

“During the shareholder meeting.” she sighs. “Tom left his phone on a table at some point, and I guess he got a notification about your, ahem, baby window. I had no right to snoop, I’m sorry.”

Shiv unwinds their arms, bringing both of her hands to massage her temples.

“Jesus fuck!” she blurts out. “Karolina, I am not trying for a baby. That’s—I don’t even really fucking understand it myself, but I am not trying to get pregnant.” she wrings her hands, grasping at her own frustration.

“It doesn’t matter. I still shouldn’t have reacted that way.” Karolina presses. “It was out of line.”

“Fuck the line.” Shiv shakes her head. She looks like she’s deciding if the dim light of the room is dark enough to let her tell Karolina the truth.

“You were right, earlier.” she sighs. “I can’t play the suffering side piece. I knew what I was getting into when we started this.”

“No, that was—I was pissed off that you wouldn’t talk to me. You know I was just trying to push your buttons.”

“It’s still the truth.”

Shiv shakes her head softly again, like she doesn’t accept her statement. She contemplates for only a second, before picking up the discarded bottle of wine, popping out its stopper, and taking a swig. She extends her hand towards Karolina, offering her the by now lukewarm prosecco, but gets waved off with a tight smile, reminding her of why they were currently sitting on the floor of a creepy nursery replica.

Neither of them say anything for a while, lying side by side like two discarded dolls. Karolina eyes the teddy-bear, for a second swearing she could see a hint of smugness in its beady eyes.

After a third sip from the bottle, Shiv finally breaks the silence.

“Tom’s been trying to get me pregnant. I didn’t know about it until the shareholder’s meeting, either.” she laughs bitterly.

“What?” Karolina feels a rush of anger fall down on her head like a hammer.

“Yeah. I don’t know—I can’t even begin to fucking process that.” She takes another small sip from the bottle. “He didn’t wanna fuck me after I told him I was still on my birth control—said it was like throwing batter at a brick wall.”

Karolina can’t see Shiv’s face, but she can hear the quiet sniffling the other woman is trying to hide. She reaches a hand and pulls Shiv back to her side, closing any bit of distance between them. Despite the dizzying murmur still gripping her mind, she feels the urge to track Tom down and bash his head in with her phone, until the sticky alcohol gets washed off by a much more satisfying offering.

She doesn’t know what to say to Shiv, can barely comprehend the horror gripping the other woman. How dare that man? It’s not that she sees Shiv as something other than human, no. And, she supposes, that might be the entire point. That Shiv is a woman and men will try to mould women to any shape they desire. Even men like Tom. Even women like Shiv.

For lack of any words that could take away Shiv’s dreadful confusion and anger, she kisses the other woman’s head and hopes it’s enough. Or at least that it’s something.

She doesn’t soften her grip until she feels Shiv’s chest slow its frantic rise and fall, until she’s sure her hold on Shiv isn’t the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

Finally, Shiv herself lifts her head from the crook of Karolina’s shoulder, with blood-shot eyes and a sorrowful scowl marring her features.

“Can I stay over?” she whispers. She looks like she’s about to justify her request, before Karolina cuts her off.

“Of course.”

“You don’t have to…” she continues, before Karolina cuts her off again.

“I want you to.” she reaches a hand to cup Shiv’s cheek, rubbing a shaking thumb over the warm dampness she finds there. “I want you with me.” She’ll repeat it as many times as it takes for Shiv to realize how easy to want she really is.

She’s hard to open up, and hard to keep a hold of, yes, but Karolina’s never found it hard to want her. To want to have her in her life, for fear of wanting things—bigger and scarier things, that she knows she shouldn’t let herself want.

“Thanks.” Shiv says, clearing her throat.

She’s never been good at talking outside of the abstract, so Karolina replies in the only language she knows Shiv won’t doubt. She kisses her, a soft and sad sigh passing through them like an electric charge. A mess of limbs in an ugly, cold tomb of a misshapen memory, warmed solely by each other’s body.

They gather themselves off the floor, still holding onto each other, like kids afraid of letting go of a helium-filled balloon. Shiv’s hair is a tangled mess, her face splotchy and still sticky with tears, and Karolina doesn’t have to look in a mirror to feel the pools of mascara gathered under her eyes like the torn-up trenches of some bloody battle.

Shiv seems to have read her mind.

“We should wash up first, huh?” she smiles ruefully. “Kendall might think we’re actually touched by his immersive trauma dump.”

“Maybe we should give him the satisfaction.” Karolina laughs, shaking her head. “It is his birthday.”

“I think there’s been enough yes-men involved in this shit fest.” she scoffs. “Come on, let’s find that fucking toilet. I’ve been close to pissing myself for the past, like, half an hour.”

She grabs Karolina’s wrist, keeping a loose grip on it even as they make their way back into the crowd and have to break apart. It feels mortifying and exhilarating, being so reckless under these neon lights. Like they might get away with it, or do it anyway, despite the consequences.

-

The ride to Karolina’s is silent, both of them finally bearing the full weight of their exhaustion. Shiv hasn’t said anything about where she’s told Tom she’d be going, or whether she’s told him at all, so Karolina doesn’t ask. She’s tired of letting these men throw their weight around even when they’re not in the room. All she cares about, anyway, is the weight of Shiv’s hand in hers, the soft skin and firm muscle, the way her fingers twitch slightly at every ghost of a touch.

It’s tiring, living her life in the abstract. Shaping herself into ideas of a life she’s decided she must live.

Shiv is real, though. She’s solid and burning brightly beside Karolina, and she’s not someone Karolina could ever see as theoretical. She’s alive in a way that scares Karolina, an unknown, uncontrollable variable defined only by herself. Occupying a place in the world shaped by herself, bent with bare hands and fury out of whatever mould she’d been thrown into. She can’t imagine how isolating that must have been, living her entire life clawing at the walls of one cage after the other, thrashing against every expectation of what she could and should and mustbe.

She used to think that what they were doing, this clumsy, clandestine clashing of hands and teeth in dark rooms, that this was a fantasy for the both of them. An imagined slice of life. A daydream they could fall into when real life was weighing them down. She’s slowly coming to realize that it might, in fact, be the other way around. That the closest she’s come to feeling real in months has been when Shiv is touching her. That she can’t hear anything quite as clearly as Shiv’s soft sighs. That life comes rushing over her every time she feels her knees press against the edge of the mattress, and drains out of her when she hears her alarm go off.

“Can we…” Shiv stirs next to her.

Karolina urges her to continue. “What?”

“Everything I said—I just wanted it to hurt.” she whispers. “I don’t think about you like that.”

She begins to pull her hand away, but Karolina grasps onto it tighter, tethering Shiv to the moment.

“I know.” she nods. “I don’t think about you like that, either.”

Shiv chances a look in Karolina’s direction. “Yeah?”

They share a brief, watery smile, which feels like the most intimate thing they’ve done. They’ve bared their bodies to each other, but never the beast of their anger—never the things lurking beneath their skin, the urge to tear and shatter.

In that tiny moment, it doesn’t feel like they’re looking into each other’s eyes, but somewhere beyond. It feels like taking a deep breath and stepping into the dark entryway of a basement, commanding the dark and telling it to scatter—telling it you’re home.

[ohshy]

As I am currently in rarepair hell- gimmie some hippo/kaiser goodness.

or soda/bull goodness

~ fan-mans

One Royal Army n Soda Bull, coming up !! (It became a little angsty i hope u dont mind)

🪖 Royal Army 👑

Seeing as both are on the aro spectrum, their relationship isn't smth that can easily be defined by romantic terms. In the easiest terms, they're in a long distance relationship, and don't do much pda aside from hugs.

Kaiser normally takes A While to warm up to people, much less get into relationships, but Hippo was a particular case cause he just felt so enarmoured with his persona, language n culture, similar to his friendship with Hondo. The latter two r some of Kaiser’s SI’s. Hippo in turn was glad someone took interest, n that’s kinda how their click began !!

They can butt heads A Lot, but they still work well together, mainly thanks to the fact they communicate rly well.

For example, when Kaiser gets into one of his PTSD/autistic isolation moods, Hippo used to have a tendency to become rly clingy toward him whenever he did, since that's how he was raised. Reach out to people when they become distant. They've compromised by texting eachother instead whenever this happens, and giving each other space if necessary.

It wasn’t always like that though. Hippo is very open emotionally, while Kaiser's more closed off. Kaiser in general has a lot of difficulty expressing his emotions, let alone identifying them, since he has instilled into his mind that showing any kind of emotion (lest it's anger) is weakness, and the last thing he wants to do is look weak. Guy already feels like he's fallen from grace w/ boxing, he does not wanna look any weaker than he already does.

One day, this comes to a boiling point, wherein Hippo requires support during a particularly bad meltdown, but Kaiser can’t give him what he needs due to being so emotionally constipated. He even ends up panicking, which he absolutely does not want Hippo to see, so he leaves right there and then. Hippo of course doesn’t take that well n assumed Kaiser didn’t care. They do eventually both calm down, but Hippo nevertheless did feel hurt and neglected. Kaiser feels ashamed of himself, and decides enough is enough. He hurt someone close to him thanks to his own issues, and he does not want that happen again. So he ends up seeking help, even if it means facing the impossible. He gets help for his PTSD as well as autism n traumas. He gets some meds n does a Whoooole bunch of talk therapy and EMDR and everything slowly becomes easier from there on out. Emphasis on Slowly.

They're pretty equal in sparring partners, seeing as both are in the minor circuit.

That said, both also are close to retirement, Kaiser more so, even if he doesn't want to admit it. Kaiser doesn't dare think of it, since fighting's all he's ever known, and he doesn't know who he is without it. It’s something Hippo’s willing to work on it together with Kaiser though.

Kaiser seeks approval, even if he doesn't realize it as he tends to isolate himself whenever he feels bad. Hippo is of course happy to reach out, but he does occassionally feel like what he's doing isn't enough. This fear is mainly instilled him due to his mother's untimely death, and their relationship being a becoming a bit more rocky and distant when Hippo decided to pursue a boxing career. Plus, Kaisers issues sometimes feel so towering to him, he doesn’t know how to support him aside from talking n cuddling.

On a brighter note, like i said before, they still make it work because they care a ton about each other n r willing to take the leap into the unknown together. Even if for Kaiser it means facing his emotions and inner demons. Even if for Hippo it means not always being able to have all the answers and control.

🐂 RedBull 🫧

It took A Rly long time for Bull to open up to Soda. Thanks to Soda's endless patience n friendly attitude though, he eventually got through his walls.

Bull's way of showing affection is acts of service as well as gifts. When he once gave Soda a Turkish delight as a gift, he knew he was smitten.

Soda's love language in turn is Much physical affection

Another way Bull likes showing affection is teasing. c'mon weve seen how the guy is in the ring when he isnt angry. He literally dances like a chicken when he wins in contender mode. I think bull can at least b a lil silly, as a treat.

Bull is big spoon n sodas little spoon >:)))

Another way they're pretty compatible is that Soda is a great sparring partner for Bull. Bull can be... pretty intense, but Soda can handle him well! He's a great equal to Bull.

Another thing they love doing together is dance ! Mainly in a silly manner, but they have slow danced in private before too :]

Bull loves telling Soda all about his start of his boxing career when Doc was still training him. There are some things he keeps secret though, like how to learn the legendary star punch...

''Please Bull, just a hint? I can keep a secret!''

''I know you can, that's not the problem...''

''Then what is?''

*gives him a kiss on the nose* ''You're behind on the kissing quota for that secret, Im going to need atleast a million more...''

And then Soda lifts him n starts kissing him like a woodpecker >:)))

[fancyfade]

hi, i'm the NTT marriage arc anon, thank you so much for such an in-depth response! i see what you mean, it's weird that the narrative doesn't really engage with what it means for kory to never say no to her parents or even how her siblings feel about kory's situation - for instance, i would've liked to see ryand'r react to the position his big sis has been put in. other than her pain over losing nightwing, she doesn't get a lot of perspective at all. i think since the romance angle was the only focus, i was a lot more sympathetic to nightwing viewing this as cheating - though this might be because of my background too, since in recent years we've had a lot of activist/revolutionary movements advocating for staying with your partner of choice instead of the partner that your parents arranged for you and that's where my mind automatically jumps to. so my reaction was basically "yeah nightwing's right, why doesn't kory fight to be with the person she loves instead!!" because wolfman never even shows her trying, yet her anguish over nightwing breaking up with her is the only focus of her inner monologues.

and it's not like any other aspect of this conflict actually gets addressed later during the resolution - dick just eventually just ~accepts~ the fact that kory had to get married and they remain together. so it's like, what was even the point of the entire last arc if it was just gonna end with dick getting over himself or whatever and dating kory anyway, we didn't need all this drama lol. i think what irritates me is that i can't actually blame nightwing for thinking of kory and tamaran as a so-called backwards culture, because the narrative generally shows them as such. real-world xenophobia tends to be based on baseless assumptions, stereotypes, and misinterpretations of another culture, but wolfman literally shows tamaran as an aberrant, war-torn place to be imo. it's frustrating when a work of fiction half-heartedly tries to depict prejudice or bigotry but then inadvertently justifies it.

but anyway, i think what i liked about the cartoon on the other hand, was that 1) galfore, starfire's guardian who she views as family, also seemed opposed to the marriage but there was nothing he could do since he's not king. plus in the cartoon he didn't sell starfire into slavery like kory's family did in the comics, rather she was kidnapped - so it doesn't come across as kory being manipulated by a selfish family member who did her dirty in the past, but instead like she's nobly sacrificing herself for the greater good. imo that gives her agency and emphasizes her tendency toward heroism and self-sacrifice, whereas in the comics she's purely a victim of circumstance and doesn't even get to stand up for herself or what she really wants outside of everyone else's pressures in the end 2) the entire marriage is all orchestrated by blackfire for her own selfish purposes and once the ruse is up, everyone is unambiguously on starfire's side, which was nice to see. i think that relates to what you said about wanting to see someone other than joey react to this whole situation - it was just sweet to see the other teen titans fight for starfire and her planet against blackfire 3) imo robin + starfire's argument in the cartoon is way more balanced than in the comic because starfire actually strongly believes in doing this even if it means losing robin, who she obviously likes. in the comic she says she has to get married no matter what, but at the same time literally begs and screams nightwing not to go when he also takes a stand and says he can't continue dating her when she's literally going to be married to another man. like i know it's heightened 80s melodrama and even the readers at the time were bored by this based on the letters to the editor columns, but it came across as so pathetic to me. in the cartoon, starfire actually pushes robin back with her powers when he tries to persist, and, because they weren't actually dating at the time, i felt like starfire was justified in telling robin to shove off - in the comics, kory is in a serious relationship with nightwing and i didn't understand how she could ever expect him to be cool with this arrangement lol

also personally i didn't take the episode to be equating beauty to virtue, because the alien looks nothing like anything remotely resembling a human being or what an "ugly" person might look like - so i figured desirability politics wouldn't really apply here, but i get what you mean. again i wonder if they had to be so heavy-handed with showing that the marriage is unwanted, because if it were a conventionally attractive guy instead, ppl would try to justify the marriage somehow :/ i also wasn't trying to imply that you were defending arranged marriages somehow, if that's how it came across lol

re: the comparison with the man who tried to kill his wife for cheating - it's disgusting how normalized that kind of view (I.e. "abuse is just a conflict that can always be resolved with twwue wwove!!") was in not just 80s comics, but even comics that came after. i was reading the 2006 moon knight series and something very similar happens and is justified, that culminates with marc physically abusing his love interest marlene. also during 80s avengers, captain marvel is literally assaulted and yet she falls in love with her abuser later because apparently he hurt her out of his love for her or whatever. and more generally i think the 80s were when the "brucie always sleeps with a dozen air-headed models" thing really took off in batman comics whereas before the playboy thing was entirely a ruse, which really goes to show how shallowly writers viewed women.

This answer will hopefully be shorter because I'm on mobile not laptop :p

Yeah, the way korys general arcs are framed in ntt is pretty unsatisfying and Marv clearly does view her as dicks gf before he views her as a person. I think it might be hypothetically possible to dip a satisfying twist on the Tamaran arc, giving kory more support and making it clear how unfair her situation is (and would be even if she wasn't in a long term relationship). And with your asks and perspective I'm also thinking that someone from a culture where arranged marriages exist would probably be a lot more capable to treating the topic with the necessary gravitas.

I think ntt kory has a fascinating dichotomy where she's like. Very clear about what she wants... BUT she has such an abandonment complex (probably from her parents literally trading her into slavery) that she'll put up with way more in relationships than she would otherwise, and she'll put up with so much of her parents (and komandr becomes a convenient hateable avatar such that kory just puts all the issues on kom and does not acknowledge to herself her parents fault in this)

But anyway that's like a whole nother post I'd need to make when not super tired.

Not sure what more to say wrt Tamaran. I feel uncomfortable saying the narrative justifies bigotry. Like, there are abusive practices that hurt Kory, but that doesn't justify Dick being awful to her.

They definitely aren't a real culture, in that Marv made them up for the story, so all we see is what's on page. There's not like a secret "how tamaranean society actually is" guide out there. I think they are mostly portrayed as war like defensively, in that the whole system is invaded by citadel. Kory does clarify that peace is always preferable to war. I think it's portrayed flatly, but not entirely as negatively as you do. That said... it still is portrayed flatly. I'm honestly not sure if Wolfman was even trying to portrayed dick as prejudiced or what, the writing around there was so messy. (And also clarification: I think that at least some of dicks actions here are ooc, or at least not what I put in my interpretation of his character. My interpretation of dick would not leave a woman with her violent husband just bc they agreed they loved each other)

I sadly agree with you that if they made cartoon korys arranged husband physically attractive there would be some people justifying it... fandom is unreal ;_; I don't think u were really trying to pull in desirability politics I'm just terrified of being misinterpreted lol (hence the clarifying "I don't think arranged marriage is a good thing" last post). That said I still do think that it'd be more clear/a stronger moral if the guy looked human.

Anyway I hope I responded to most of your ask! Ty for sharing your thoughts

[funkymbtifiction]

I have a fear of losing people, when people move on from their relationship or friendship with me, I tend to be the one holding on. is this a 9 thing?

Yes, for several reasons.

9s are past-oriented, which means they often hold onto things from their past rather than thinking as much about the present. This can translate into longing for what's gone rather than considering what might lie ahead. This is far more present in a Si using 9 than a Ni 9, but because 9s are doing repressed, it's more comforting to dwell in memories than to take a risk in pursuing people and using all the effort that it requires to connect, to maintain a relationship, and to keep it going. Because people require so much effort, 9s don't want to lose the ones they care about -- it seems exhausting to replace them, in addition to feeling genuinely connected to them.

9s also tend to take the path of least resistance, which means it's hard for them to stretch themselves or work on self-development. In this way, they don't like change because it disrupts their inner calm. A loss of a friendship means a huge change, an emptiness, feelings they are used to numbing out of but that won't be silenced. Then too, there is a tendency in 9s to build themselves into other people, to merge into them, so losing them feels like losing a huge chunk of your own self and personality. There's a listlessness and a lack of knowing who you are without this relationship.

The problem is, for a 9, time moves differently from the other types. It's slow. For them, not talking to someone for three months and then showing up and having a conversation as if they never left doesn't FEEL like all that time has passed, because the 9 was thinking about their friend (just not communicating; they are doing repressed, so they may think about someone without ever getting in touch with them and so the relationship may die from unintentional neglect). But a lot can happen in another type's life, or in their emotions, over a long period of time such as that.

The challenge for a 9 is to learn to "do" more in their relationships (be more present, and initiate rather than wait for others to come to them) and to learn that life changes and moves forward, that not all friends are forever. Most of all, though, the 9 needs to learn how to separate Self from others, so things don't feel quite as earth-shattering when a situation alters.

I'm sorry. I know how traumatic it is for 9s to "lose" friends.

[plaindangan]

Inspired by that wonderful pic from bluueygooey

After Shuichi met her teasing sis momo, and her absolute sexy godess milf of a mom harmony, Kaede is getting kinda anxious about keeping Shuichi for herself! She just KNOWS momo will get touchy with him any chance she can get, as for her mom?.. well she’s a bit of a seductress sometime… and Shuichi will never manage to say no to her! (Probably).. I mean, even Kaede isn’t really able to resist simping for her mom, it’s not weird! She’s just.. very very sexy and motherly and mind numbing… but Kaede has the solution!.. today is shu’s b-day… and as a gift ? She used miu’s weird "sexithiccanator" raygun she stole from the babbling genius bimbo while she was "occupied" under kirumi’s butt. She also did the same with some weird books himiko had, some VERY risque clothing tsumugi made under junko’s order, and even prayed Atua for all she had.. all in order to transform her bod temporarily into the THICC QUEEN with curves and softness that could melt anyone… with the side effect of a through the roof libido~.. she then (gently) kidnapped shu, him waking up on her ultra comfy bed hands attached by somehow soft handcuffs~!… it’s time for the ultimate thicc fuck! And she doesn’t care if her sis or mom can hear all the lewd noises, if anything she wants to see them get jelly of the "flat" girl in the house~.. especially since they both don’t know yet… that Shuichi his packing an XXL SIZE PYTHON AS A COCK~!

Disclaimer: Below is content that's more on the racy side! If not for you, you probably shouldn't read!

This...this should do it. That raygun. Himiko's grimoire. Tsumugi's snug bra and panties that she filched, and finally, Angie's guide on how to 'Pray to Become a Big Tiddy Harlot with a Badonkadonk'....

She was all set.

Kaede couldn't let her mother or Momo win. She can't allow it, she wouldn't! Shuchi was her's and her's alone!~ But, she wasn't stupid. She may had a shot prior to their arrival, but her big sis and mother were just too stacked physically for her to stand much of a chance in the long term. Momo was too flirty with that 'peach' of her's and her mother?

Her m-mother...those...boobs of hers....!!! Shaking her head, Kaede snapped out of it. Y-yeah, if Kaede couldn't resist those for long, Shuichi was a dead man walking. She needed to be on their level!!

Steeling her resolve, she pointed the ray gun herself, all whilst chanting from Himiko's book. "YDDIT YDDIT! SAA SAA TAF TAF! CCIHT CCIHT!!!" slowly a warm tingle spread through her body...the changes...she could feel them! But she wasn't done yet!! Angie's turn!!

"Ah...Angie's God? Um, I know this might be egregious of me to ask since this the first time I'm talking to you...but.....I have a request!" Clasping her hands and shutting her eyes, she prayed loudly.

"Please, oh merciful one, make me a tall, soft, curvy woman!!! Even if just for a day!! Just to ensure my boyfriend doesn't stray from me! Please!!"

...

"Nyahahahahaa!~ Wish granted!~"

Wait, isn't that An-!!

She couldn't focus on that, suddenly a white light enveloped her. Washing over her with motherly, gentle warmth. One that would make anyone feel as if they would be safe. That the world was right...

Only to be slapped in the face with a deep, inner, sense of pure lust!!! A need to fuck! A need to find the nearest person to her and give them all of her love! Her body, her soul, her essence - and completely take that's person's sticky, wet load aaaaaaaall for herself!~

This was it...this was how this all comes together!

A deep laugh emerged from deep within her as she felt the effects of her work all mix and mash into one. How she felt her body grow and be enhanced to its true potential!~

"Sh...Shuichi!~ My sweetheart!~" She whispered. Focusing all of her being onto that one man.

Shuichi...she's coming! She'll make you her's! Definitively!

It's time to officially prove that!~

--

"Gh...."

It had been a long day. Between Kyoko, his superior, still having him on the case for the 'Missing Panties' or Miu's complaining about one of her inventions being nabbed, he had been run ragged. Thus, when he got home, he changed into his pajama pants and seemed content on just sleeping away his worries....

Which was why when he woke up to find himself in a completely different room, he began to panic. EH!? Wh-what!? How the Hell did he get here!? Was he kidnapped!? Where on Earth....where...um?

"Huh? Wait, isn't this Kaede's room?" While not completely calm, he was rational enough to realize that this was her place given the wallpaper, items, scent (wait, scratch that last part)! Plus, having laid on it for 'personal' reasons, Shuichi knew that this had to be her bed! As soft as ever!~...Wait, this was no time to be admiring that! He had to get out of here!

The bluenette tried to rise up only feel something fuzzy and soft keep him restrained. Handcuffs? Gah, what even was this situation? If he was in Kaede's place, than what was her situation? Was she okay!? Where-?

"I'm right here, Sweetheart!~"

The door to the room opened...and Shuichi saw her. The new her. The True Kaede Akamatsu. Breathless, all he could do was just...stare. Stare in awe as she walked over and stood right over him.

Kaede had grew exponentially. She was standing at a whopping 10 feet tall with her head nearly reaching her ceiling. Yet Kaede didn't seem at all disturbed by such sudden growth, looking down at the detective with a sense of mischief, love and...hunger? Yeah, no, those were definitely the eyes of like a predator than anything else.

In addition, it was impossible to ignore the other blatant change to her body - how...full she had become. Her thighs had become unbelievably plump and looked so soft, Shuichi could probably bet they would beat out any pillow in terms of comfort.

Her stomach was also quite soft looking, with juuuust the right amount of pudge that made it super appealing to look at and really want to squeeze.

Yet, that couldn't compare to gargantuan boobs she now had. They could rival Harmony's size, being absolutely overflowing and larger than even the blonde's head. What would it like being under such things? Shuichi's mind grew fuzzy from all the details.

It didn't help matter at all that Kaede was only wearing three articles of clothing: a black bra (which was only doing the bare minimum in covering up those titantic tits of hers), a black thong (which seemed be getting stretched to its absolute fullest) a black choker that only enhanced the curvy, pale, figure that Kaede had now and lastly, black gloves that matched perfectly with the others. Overall, a very skimpy fit for a very provocative woman.

His woman...and by now, Shuichi was becoming quite a horny boy with an erection was really starting to strain

"Do you like what you see, Sweetheart?~" Turning around, Kaede showed off the Jupiter-sized globes that she couldn't help but clap right in front of him. Taking pride in how he was seemingly hypnotized by her actions.

"Heh, knew it!~ Perhaps we should take this to the next level?~" Slowly, she crawled on the bed., right next to Shuichi's crotch. Licking her lips, she gently began tugging down his pants. For her reward for all her hard work?

Why not indulge in herself in having a equally large cock for her equally large body!~ And boy was Shuichi erect with an anaconda that that stood straight at attention. Awaiting for his Mistress to claim it!~ A healthy amount of pre-cum was gathered too, which was something Kaede eagerly took a lick of. A shudder went down her spine.

It was delicious!~ A low moan came from Shuichi from the lick, his entire being in a lustful haze. "K-kaede...." he whispered, with such a cute reaction just aiding fuel to the fire that pushed Kaede to do this.

"Just relax, Shuichi...let me do this!~ I'm introducing you into a much better world! Once I'm done with you it doesn't matter! Mom, Momo? No woman will ever be able to claim you!~ Not one except me!~ So..." Those striking, starved eyes of Kaede looked straight at Shuichi just waiting for the signal.

"Let's get to playing!~"

--

"Eugh...what's with the racket?

"Honey, my munchkin? What's going on?"

Dressed in white and black nightgowns, both Momo "Melody" and Harmony were gathered in the hallways of their home. Both having been woken up by an intense noise and sounds coming from Kaede's bedroom. Yawning, Harmony opened the door up so both could get a peek over what was going on...

...Which is when both got a full view of the situation, with their jaws going wide in both amazement and shock.

They clearly saw the new Kaede - even more grown up and no longer the 'runt' of the family. She now dwarfed Momo and Harmony for their sizes, with her's in particular being put to good use at the moment...

Bouncing up and down on that massive, alluring, addicting fuckrod of Shuichi's!! Her boobs bounced up and down with each thrust!~ An intense clapping sound from both her ass and her own bounces echoing loudly throughout her room!~

Heart's were in Kaede's eyes as she never stopped, or rather couldn't stop, her fucking high as his dick fit juuuust right around her pussy. Further proof in her mind that he was hers! Both of their juices running down his girthy shaft in an ultimate mixture of visible 'love'!~ Love that wasn't going to stop anytime soon!

"F-f-f-fuuuuuuck! I looooove youuu!~ I love youuu!! Shuiiiichi, babbyyy!! I looove youuu!!~ M-moooooreeee!! Love meeeee!! Ooooonlllyyy meeee!~"

"K-Kaeeeeeedeeee!!! Y-you're amaziiiiiing!! Amaziiiiing!! Th-thiiiiss iisss just for youuuuu!! Ahahahaahahaha!!!" Yeah, there was no doubt both were waaaay too occupied with themselves to noticed the duo at Kaede's door. Slowly, Harmony closed the door, a blush on her face as she looked at her eldest daughter.

"...Perhaps, it best we let out little munchkin have this moment with her boytoy? What do you think?"

"U-uh...y-yeah! I'll just...um...gonna head back to room now! Bye!!!" Quickly, Momo shuffled off. No doubt to give herself some personal 'alone time' and Harmony couldn't blame her! With one last look at Kaede's door she looked positively proud of her daughter. "You really pulled out the stops, hm? Great going, sweetie!~"

It was her defeat, but she was still satisfied nonetheless!

...

Okay, well, maybe in the morning she'll need to educate her little Maple about lowering her tone when the house was 'occupied'!~ It's just good etiquette after all!

Though even when morning came, that would have to wait. After the night they had, the couple had taken to sleeping in for the day. Arms wrapped around each other, with Shuichi's face in particular being buried tight and snug in those boobs of Kaede's.

Both safe, sound, and Kaede being at peace knowing this was totally worth it...

Up until she had to go on a quest to give back those items she stole, but, hey, that was a matter for another day!~

[indepth-mbti]

I don't know if you can help me out with this or not but... Can you tell me why I am not an ISFJ and make some kind of comparison between the IXFJ types, with function examples? Since the day you answered my first question, I keep on thinking and thinking. I keep on looking for signs that can point me to the right direction and to the lie of my ego and I am divided. I feel like I might be an ISFJ 6w5, just like I think that my mother is, but I am afraid of accepting it. I already accepted my Enneagram, but I don't want to accept my possible MBTI. Not only because of her, but because I keep on feeling like there is something off. There is something off about my MBTI. I feel like I am an INFJ, but it feels like something is off; I think I might be an ISFJ but, then again, something feels off; I even keep on thinking I am an Fi Dom., but it also feels off. How do I smooth the edges to finally see the truth?

You’re an E6, so the obsessive self-doubt and paradoxical search for certainty will always haunt you. You’re an INFJ, and I’ve offered you multiple arguments for it, but you’ll never have any proof that is going to satisfy you. The problem isn’t that you’re an INFJ. The problem is that you’re an E6 who keeps doubting herself over and over again. Your E6 + tert Ti overthinking tendencies are what gets you into this constant uncertainty.

But getting to the point, main differences between ISFJ and INFJ:

Si focuses on internal sensory states, sensory bonds, and giving personal meaning to their experiences – they have a “collector” mentality, freezing the present. Ni focuses on internal idealistic states, personal implications driven to the future and to live in a meaningful way (purpose). Both prefer predictability and structures.

Si + Fe = Interpersonal safety mixed with a personal understanding of reality. Meticulous and methodical. Too willing to ignore the hints that indicate that there’s something wrong.

Ni + Fe = Aspires to some hidden purpose in their interpersonal connections, desires to see how their visions can help the external structures that their Fe care about. Sees things in others where there’s nothing.

Si + Ti = Self-sufficient. The most detail-obsessed combination, rigid subjectivity. Pessimistic and stuck in old methods that don’t work – more prone to conforming to what they already know.

Ni + Ti = The kind of person who wants to polish their single obsession until the end, obsessive mentality of “there’s not enough; I can go deeper.��� Blind to their inner contradictions. Reality is disappointing.

[citrus--space]

Okay, something I just realized was that. Vivziepop could've avoided going to voodoo route & making his character black (even though the fandom thinks he isn't). By making Alastor have some form of connection to morticians. Because, from my current knowledge (I wanted to be one & fixated on Mortician work for 5-6 months & talked to an actual funeral director.) They used to sow the mouth & eyes of the fallen shut. Remove the organs, and fill their veins with chemicals. Granted if the vein one happened in 1920's, I doubt it. But then again, I don't know for sure. So, y'all know how in the movie Coraline, the Beldam makes the Coraline Doll & preforms ancient Mortician work on her in the beginning? I believe that Vivzie could've done something like that since if you look at Alastors Demon-deer form when talking to Husk / Fighting the loansharks in EP.5. It in some scenes kinda resembles the Beldam. Plus the Beldam worked with a doll. So it'd be plausible that Alastor could too in a similar matter. So here's my idea on the history of Alastor / His Backstory ;

Alastor, the son of two famous morticians in the 1890's Louisiana. Was a Mama's boy, his mother was always the more caring of his two parents. His father was always buried in his work of funeral directing. Al's father only really bonded with Alastor while they're embalming or preparing a casket. When Alastor was a kid he always LOVED to greet the kin of the fallen at the door. He always chatted with them & made them feel better, but his favourite part of his family's work was the act of prepping the dead to be downed. He enjoyed the smell of the decaying carcass & the feeling that got sent into him whilst sewing them shut. Just as his mother would sew shut a scratched arm on him. Along with the beautiful tune she would senranade him with as his eyes prickled as a young lad. His favourite song, “Your never fully dressed without a smile.”. And that song was the song he sang while embalming his mother. He knew that her death hit him hard. But he didn't know that her death would affect the decision of if he was going to Heaven, or Hell. But life moves on, and Alastor found his profession. In being a charming, hilarious, Radio Host. Quickly becoming a hit, a huge radio wave that brought others off balance. But the hunger from his childhood, the entertainment of controlling the dead by means of the normal dead prepping, plus a few extra details, like a deer symbol scribed in chalk on the lower back, sewing the mouth shut with a smile, and keeping the blood he exchanged from the body intern of Embalming fluid. He then use the dead skin of White tailed deer - specifically young bucks or yearlings. He started his deer-embalming escapade in the late 1920's around say 1928. He continued his current life as a Radio Host, but with the secret that he was a serial killer of course. And well Alastor made sure none of the people in his inner circle would betray him. He made sure of that by avoiding the advances of women by all cost.. Only being close with a select few. And his life was eventful, yet it was inevitable he would one day meet his fate. Which he did, on a late September evening. Being mistaken for a Buck by a hunter while skinning a yearling & injecting blood into its hide. Getting shot in the head & mauled by dogs. Only to wake up in Hell, next to an old radio station, grinning in delight..

----

That was the only article I used, and I used it to make sure that I didn't accidentally use Voodoo. If I did, I apologize . Because from my current knowledge, it's a closed practice. Actually, I lied I probably used other articles ( I can't remember them to be honest.) Also if I'm being honest I'm quite proud of that backstory I whipped up, especially since I made this at a highschool basketball game. When I started my HS Girls team just started, around 7:53, 1st qt & now it's the 4th qt. 1:31 & were losing 20 - 34 😭. Anyways enough of that, once again my only credentials for using the information about deer, & Mortician work is that 1) I'm currently fixated on deer (I have a collection of antlers :D ) 2) I'm A Midwesterner, ofc I know a lot of random shit Abt deer & 3) I used to be interested in Mortician work & being a mortician for a solid 5-6 months & spoke to a Funeral Director before.