#Which mantra to chant to get love

[secretlytranced]

So, this just happened:

I'm fresh from the shower and I'm putting lotion on, and when I did my chest, I rubbed it into my tits, like ya do...

Soon as I started rubbing both tits at once, I dropped instantly. My eyes rolled back, my jaw went slack, and I started chanting outloud. I chanted a full cycle of fuckdoll mantras and then woke up, unaware of what happened, and then went right back to my post-shower routine. I only realized it once I was done and getting dressed!

This. Is. New. And amazing. And which one of you put this suggestion in me?? Because I LOVE it and I need more... 🥰😇🫠💋

[pearlywritings]

A 'family only' day

synopsis: there is a special day every month that you get to spend with your husband and kids while everyone else is dismissed from the manor.

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader, your twin sons Rufus and Lucas

tw: fluff, domestic moment, a tiny bit of intimacy, twins are five in this one

word count: 4.5k+ words

Family AU Masterlist

Strong pair of arms have you pinned to a big warm body, wide chest pressing to your back, legs interlocked under the pushed to the waist blanket, and face buried in the nape of your neck. Calm deep breathes blow your locks a little, stray hairs tickling your skin, making your shoulder jerk involuntarily. Even through the thick veil of sleep you are highly aware of how clingy your redhead husband is. There is so little space between your bodies left, even his nose is pressed just beneath your hairline and lips practically on your neck.

Despite loads of work he had to fulfill every day the man isn't a morning person at all. Most days he forces himself out of the bed, chanting a mantra in his head that the earlier he starts, the sooner he can give all his undivided attention to you and your boys, sleeping in only on weekends that you made him declare a 'no-work days' or, how maids in your mansion like to call it - 'fun only' days.

One might ask, why not 'family only' days? Well…

Your body stirs when Diluc unconsciously brings himself flash to your back and suddenly the heat is all too palpable. Groaning in discontent you squirm, trying to get a little bit further from him, but he doesn’t budge. Instead the muscles on his scarred arms flex and you can almost feel bulging veins through the thin fabric of your nightwear.

Sleep is slowly leaving you.

With another groan, which transforms into a yawn, you attempt to at least stretch, arms reaching forward and back curling, the small of it pushing directly into the man’s stomach, which makes him huff. The lock of arms relaxes a bit. Gripping the sheets as far as your hand could reach, you try to scoot away from him, but Diluc grunts, this time flexing his legs around yours.

“My flame…” you almost miss him sigh your little nickname out with the way his face found refuge between your shoulder blades. “Don’t go…”

“Dear,” stifling another yawn, you quietly chuckle. Secretly, despite his high body temperature feeling uncomfortable, you are very much enjoying his neediness and desire to stay close. “We have two fireflies to take care of.”

“Just a little more…” He drawls, pressing a kiss to the open patch of skin. Humming, distracted by his drowsy words and sweet gestures, you fail to notice when the arm squished under your body moves higher. His hand gently envelops your breast and gives it a light squeeze, a big palm completely covering the globe.

"Love…" You murmur contently, taking a hold of his other hand, still wrapped around your middle. "We can have some time for ourselves in the evening. Boys will be here soon."

"Let me just… Feel you…" his voice is still hoarse, and for Archon's sake, here he is, softly fondling with your tender flesh, planting slow kisses to the side of your neck. There is no rising desire, just sweet intimacy the man felt like he was depriving you of the whole week, and it feels so comforting that your lashes tremble in the eyelids’ attempts to not slide close. "You are so soft and fit in my arms so nicely, I don't want to let you go…"

"But I need to get to the kitchen, 'luc,” you try with more firmness, turning in his hold the best you can, ending on your back eventually. Diluc releases your chest and instead buries his face in your shoulder. The short hairs of his stubble tickle your skin when his jaw goes slack in a yawn.

“Why should you…”

“Of course because you cooked breakfast last time, so it's my turn. The boys are all yours, love. Come on, I know you want to see them and cuddle while I am busy with food.”

Just as if on cue, you hear shuffling footsteps with muffled conversation in the corridor and feel the man scoff at your side.

“They are not wearing slippers again,” your husband is finally more present in reality, reaching a hand to rub at his eye. “How many times should we tell them that it can be chilly in the mornings, especially with maids on their day off.”

“Hundreds and hundreds of times,” you snort in amusement. “Still can’t believe your hearing is this good. Guess those are the perks of being the Darknight Hero.”

“Oh please,” Diluc rolls his eyes and then onto his back, wiggling his arm from under your body and draping it over his stomach. Even a decade of being together doesn't save him from your occasional teasing regarding his night outings. Good thing he is the man of utter patience and his love for you can only be rivaled by one he feels for your sons. 

Just as you sit up and properly stretch, there is a series of knocks on your bedroom door.

“A moment, babies!” You shout loud enough for them to hear, and then turn to look down at Diluc, whose hair is beautifully spilling all over the pillow like a blazing flame and whose other arm is shielding his eyes from the sunlight entering through the window. It must be pretty late already.

“Don’t pout, my fire,” you murmur gently, bending down and kissing the corner of his lips. To your joy they curl in a small smile.

“I am not, love.”

“Promise?”

He peaks from under his arm and nods with an even softer smile.

“Promise. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

With one of your many small morning rituals completed you untangle yourself out of the blankets and get out of the bed, adjusting the nightclothes and marching to the door.

Two unruly manes of red are what meets you in the doorway, and then two pairs of gleaming ruby eyes, staring up at you with so much indescribable love and happiness, your heart is about to give out.

“Good morning, mama!” Twins exclaim simultaneously, reaching their hands up. You instantly bend to wrap your arms around their small bodies, for a moment lifting them just above the ground, making them squeal softly.

“Good morning, my little fireflies. How was your night?”

“I had a dream!”

“I had one too!”

You gasp in excitement.

“You did!? Will you tell us all about it during breakfast?”

“Yes!”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” seeing delight written all over their cute faces you can’t remember what life was like, when you didn’t have these balls of sunshine to love, to cherish. Your heart throbs, weak for them and not enough to contain all your affection. But you'll smother them in kisses later, you have a mission.

Straightening up, you think Diluc had enough time to prepare himself mentally and physically for his sons’ pouncing attack, so you step aside to clear the path for the twins.

"Boys, papa wants a hug!"

They do not have to be told twice - just as you finish talking they already sprint towards the bed. You escape the room leaving behind the giggles and the groans.

And this is usually how your 'family only' days start. Once a month you have a day when all the winery staff is dismissed, leaving just you, your husband and your boys at the manor. At first this decision was made for the sake of a married couple who'd just become parents to two beautiful boys and needed to operate their time better and to make sure that not more than necessary is put on the maids' shoulders. Sure, your sons never felt unloved or as if dad or mom was absent, but with Diluc's hectic schedule it is hard to spend the whole day seeing both you and him - it usually is either you or him, with joined moments here and there. Eventually you both loved the idea so much that it became a permanent occurrence, something akin to a tradition. And boys absolutely love it too, especially when you invite the Alberichs over. After all, they are family.

Getting to the first floor you start the fire in the stove and put a kettle on it. Armed with a knife and a cutting board you begin chopping some meat to grill to go after porridge - kids took great liking to rice imported from Inazuma and semolina from Snezhnaya. Oh, right, you'll need milk for that…

Soon the mouth-watering aroma fills the kitchen

By the time the pan stops sizzling and the casserole is moved to a colder part of the stove so as not to boil off, it has probably been half an hour already. Cutting the bread you can't help but have half a mind to go and shake your boys out of their daze in case all three decided to succumb to the land of dreaming again. However, putting the plate with steaming meat in the middle of the table in the dining area, you hear the heavy footsteps traveling the second floor and descending down the stairs. And sure enough, looking up gives you a delightful sight. Shirtless Diluc with each arm occupied by a widely smiling boy, both their arms wrapped around dad's neck and cheeks pressed to the sides of his head. Glancing lower you notice slippers dangling on their feet - now you see what took them so long, Diluc made them return to their room and dress properly.

"Smells delicious," the man sighs, walking to the table, and you readily accept the younger twin in your arms. Lucas giggles, burying his face in your neck.

"'course it does, my dear meat-lover," you tease him softly, following his example and putting your son in a chair close to Rufus. Your husband then proceeds to the fireplace not so far and crouches down to prepare the wood. Meanwhile you wrap napkins around the twins' necks, fingers combing through their hair to get fiery stands out of the way.

"Babies, what do you want for a drink? Tea, hot chocolate or any kind of juice?"

"Tea!"

"Wolfhook juice!"

"And mom, can you put two cubes of sugar in my tea?"

"Sure, Lu. And then some coffee for us," Diluc nods in gratitude, done with his task to light the fireplace later, and walks behind you to help with the rest of the dishes. Or more like get glued to your back with arms loosely wrapped around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder, watching your hands work little magic on the drinks. When you step to the side, he moves with you, and it reminds you of all the times you got in front of him in the tavern, back pressed to his chest and eyes focused with wonder at his hands' skilled work.

"Did you really bring them all the way to their room to get slippers?" You feel him nod, stubble rubbing against your skin again, which makes the corner of your mouth twitch and then curl in a small smile.

"You have no idea… It's like they've played kickball the evening before. I wasn't surprised to find Lucas's under Rufus's bed, however when I spotted Ru's on top of the wardrobe I started to fear for the chandelier in their room, and their safety as a result."

"No kicking shoes policy in our house?" You hum and Diluc shakes his head almost immediately. 

"It'll hardly help."

"I mean they are your kids. And by the stories Kaeya told me it's not hard to deduce from whom the troublemaker gene was inherited from."

"You can't trust half of what he says, with his tendency to twist and overestimate the events. Besides, I don't think such a gene even exists."

"Does it really matter?" You half-turn your head to face him, and the redhead doesn't miss an opportunity to leave a peck under your eye.

"No… No, I don't think so. But we'll need to have a conversation with them."

"And we will," you assure him, carefully sliding out of his embrace. "Come on, bring these," you point at a round tray with two mugs of coffee, a cup of tea and a glass of juice on it, "to the table and I'll bring them porridge. Everything else should be there already."

"Alright, my darling," he grabs the tray and walks out of the kitchen. You quickly bring two plates and lift the lid off the casserole, dipping the ladle in. But just as one plate is filled, you hear Diluc's quite loud "boys!" exclaimed in a disapproving manner, so you hurry to fill the other plate, and join your family quickly.

The sight you witness there almost makes you double over and start laughing out loud. The plate with meat has obviously gotten emptier and the little culprits have honeyed sauce all over their hands and mouths. Two sets of ruby eyes stare down guiltily, not daring to meet the same ones of their dad.

"Rufus, Lucas," they tense, because the only times one of you uses their full names is either when you talk to someone about them, or when they are in trouble. "What did we tell you about stuffing your mouths before everyone is settled at the table?" Diluc lifts his eyebrow, awaiting for their answer.

"Not to do it…" Twins sigh, eyes still trained down.

"And what did you do?"

"We did it…"

"And what do you need to say?" Diluc takes plates from you to put on the table, while you quickly run back to the kitchen to wet some cloth.

"We are sorry…" The man nods, accepting the apology and putting their plates in front of them.

"But it's delicious!" Rufus finally lifts his gaze and pouts, and for a moment Diluc almost falls for his son's adorable expression. Was he like that when he was little? Did his father have similar troubles with him? He wishes he could remember it more vividly.

Lost in his thoughts he doesn't notice when you come back and start tending to the boys, wiping their faces and hands clean. The most surprising part is that there is no spot on their napkins, despite sauce having been coating all hands and mouths.

"I know it's delicious, babies, and dad knows that too, it's one of his favorites after all, but it's common courtesy to wait for everyone before starting the meal, okay?"

"Okay…" they sigh again and put their now cleaned hands on their lap to show that they are waiting.

"Good loves," you smile, leaving the cloth on an empty chair to tend to it later. "Darling, light the fireplace for us, please?"

Your husband nods and with a flick of his wrist there is a spark in the fireplace, soon growing into a flame, cracking sound of wood filling the room.

"Woooooow," twins turn mesmerized every time Diluc uses his vision and you find it extremely adorable.

Soon all four of you are at the table - boys in the middle and you two at their sides to help them with anything they are not yet skilled at. The dining room fills with noise of cluttering utensils, excited voices of your sons' telling you all about their dreams and your content humming and intrigued gasps as reactions.

Watching Diluc entertain his babies with even wilder stories to make their dreams feel more enthralling, you can't help but feel so proud for how much he has grown. You can remember the first months, when he was hesitant to lift them out of the crib and hold them, forced to do so only for your sake when you were too tired to get out of bed at night. How stiff he was whenever one of them asked about the many scars littering his body whenever they caught him with rolled sleeves or shirtless. How he was stressing to you, worried, that he was not showing them enough affection. He always did enough, and even if it took you, twins and Adelinde a couple of years, the four of you managed to convince him of that. Even Kaeya told you that it'd been awhile since he saw his brother that happy. 

Diluc truly enjoys fatherhood.

Sun is even higher in the sky when the last spoonfuls are eaten and the last gulps of drinks are taken. Boys are freed of napkins and are sent to play on the couch, while you and Diluc bring everything back to the kitchen.

"Your turn to entertain them," your husband effortlessly moves you aside and takes place in front of the sink. "Besides you cooked a delicious breakfast, that's the least I can do."

"Mmm, if you say so," you press a kiss to his bare shoulder and walk towards the exit. "We'll be waiting for you!"

"Mama!" Twins exclaim happily, rolling on the couch and you can see why Diluc got concerned - it was just one minute, and their slippers are already everywhere. Right now you can spot only two and they do not match.

"What are you two up to?" Boys grin at you from their now frozen position on the piece of furniture - Lucas on his back with his head barely resting on the edge of the seat and hair streaming down while Rufus is crossing his brother's body with his own, lying on top of him.

"Oh, playing! Lu is a mouse and I am a cat!"

"You caught me! My turn!" The younger boy complains, trying to push his twin off, yet Rufus doesn't budge.

"No! The cat eats the mouse! Aaaah," he widely opens his mouth and grabs Lucas's arm.

"Rufus!" You quickly step forward and carefully snatch the not yet assaulted limb with one hand, cupping the cat's mouth with the other. "No biting! You are not an animal, dear."

The red-haired troublemaker mumbles something in your palm, to which you only give him a look. You enjoy motherhood as much as Diluc is content being a dad, but having two kids at a time, with both of them being boys whose energy and speed could match one of a rashboland tiger from Sumeru, can be so hard sometimes. During those moments a little warning is due.

"Well… I guess I should write and send Melissa to uncle Kaeya and tell him that his nephews have been so naughty lately…" These words make them tense. "You know, and he was so glad when he promised to visit us today…"

"Uncle will come!? And Callie? And Auntie??"

"Yes, they wanted to, but now… Hm… Not so sure…"

Rufus instantly tears your hand away from his mouth and, clutching your fingers tightly in his smaller ones, looks at you with determined eyes.

"And if I say I won't bite?"

"Hmm… Only if you promise."

"I promise!"

"Will you keep it?"

"Yes!"

"Alright, then they will be happy to come," boys cheer, rolling on the sofa again, but this time to sit properly.

"When will they come?"

"Around noon. We still have plenty of time to get ready and maybe go for a walk by the lake."

"Oh, dad will beat slimes!" Rufus throws his fists forward excitedly. Truly, the creatures are common there, coming from Dragonspine and settling on the lake not so far from the Winery. Diluc always makes sure to clear the area before kids can go and play by or in the water and the oldest takes great interest in how skilled his father is with a heavy claymore. Once he tried to lift it - thank Archons he realized after a minute it's impossible and didn't get hurt.

But that’s for later. Now you carefully pry them from each other and sit in-between, happily welcoming both in your embrace as they sprawl themselves in your lap.

“Mama is so warm…” Lucas murmurs, blissfully smiling and burying his face in your stomach. Rufus is resting on his back with head on your thigh and fingers tugging and playing with yours.

“She is,” He confirms his twin's words, eventually pulling your hand to rest on his chest, which you do, reaching the other one to put on the younger boy’s back.

“Thank you, fireflies,” your smile is so tender and your features turn so delicate, that Diluc doesn’t dare to step further into the room, frozen in the doorway, eyes not leaving your lovely face he kissed so many times and will do so many more.

“But you know who is even warmer?” Your gaze flickers up and the man knows - he’s been caught staring. It really shouldn’t, you’ve been together for so long, but still it brings soft flush to his cheeks.

“It’s papa!”

“But mama is softer,” Diluc approaches you three and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing your skin lightly. You can't help but chuckle.

“Sure I am. Now, since dad is done with the dishes, off to the bathroom, we have teeth to brush and hair to comb. Diluc, please be a dear and find their slippers.”

The man dramatically groans.

It’s almost an hour later when your morning routine is done, clothes chosen and boys are helped to dress (they love choosing their own clothes though), you and Diluc are also done with your beautiful tea-length dress and your husband’s vest suit. He looks so damn good in brown, so it’s not a surprise you attacked him with kisses. Which kind of backfired, because as of now he doesn’t want to let you go, caging you in his embrace and giving your neck a sweet kiss.

"Mmm, I think you can add a necklace to your look, my flame," he hums low, glancing at the mirror behind you. "Yes, it should look good. How about that choker with a heart-shaped pendant you bought not so long ago?"

"You really think so?" He lets you turn in his embrace, but not stray farther, and lowers his head to kiss your shoulder as you are regarding your own reflection with sharp eyes. "Hm, it seems likely, let me try."

Diluc moves your hair aside and waits for you to fasten the tiny lock of a pretty piece of jewelry. It hugs your neck just right yet you still tug a little to make sure it's not tight.

"You look gorgeous," the man smiles, abandoning his place behind you and taking it by your side.

"Says who? The most handsome husband in all Teyvat," you tease and the loving tone of your voice makes his heart flutter.

"Just don't let Kaeya hear it. He will not stop complaining," and you laugh.

"Nuh, he'll surely only smirk and say that he is the sexiest then," Diluc rolls his eyes.

"Sure he will. Can you get the kids? I'll go grab my claymore and check on Melissa."

"Of course, dear. See you at the front door."

Sharing one more kiss you part your ways with Diluc heading downstairs and you walking to the twins' room. There you find both sitting on Rufus' bed, clearly making plans about what they are going to do when uncle's family arrives.

"Oh, oh, you think they'll be on horses?"

"They will! Maybe papa lets us use ours."

A horse walk huh? That sounds nice. Your and Diluc's stallions should be well-rested as you haven't ridden them in a couple of days. Besides you have two amazing grooms working at the Winery stables, taking care of all the horses you own to help the workers with transportation.

"Then I want to sit with- oh, mama! Hi!" Lucas widely smiles upon your entrance and jumps onto the floor, quickly followed by Rufus. Your gentle gaze travels over their cute grinning faces, fiery bangs framing sparkly gem-like eyes. Today they, surprisingly, both opted for ponytails, though Lucas chose a high one, while his brother - a low one. The younger twin looks extremely adorable in lemon yellow shorts and white short-sleeved shirt and Rufus gives a bit maturer vibes with gray shorts, black suspenders and a similar shirt. With relief you notice that their sandals have not been kicked off.

"Hey, baby," you eagerly take their hands in yours, squeezing with affection. "Ready to go for a walk with me and dad? Who knows, maybe we'll meet your uncle's family in the process."

"Yes"

"Let's go!"

And just like that you are tugged out of their room. The way to the front door is short, but Diluc managed to beat you three to it. Here he is standing, with the heavy weapon easily balanced in one hand, while the other gently petting the falcon's feathers. Melissa is occupying one of her favorite spots - on his shoulder, flapping her wings a little and making impatient screeching noises - she is a young bird after all.

Sharp golden eyes stare at you three, but there is no malice, maybe just a tiny bit of judgment for taking so long. Giving her a sheepish smile, you earn a chuckle and a fond gaze from your red-haired partner. Upon walking closer you then notice Diluc's whole left arm - from shoulder to his wrist - clad in a leather sleeve to protect both clothes and skin from his bird companion's claws. All of these - the claymore, the majestically looking falcon, the gear, the gorgeous suit, and a high ponytail with thick locks cascading down his back, creates an otherworldly image of your husband.

"Hi there, handsome~" You can't help yourself from a little flirting slip of your thoughts, grinning when light pink dusts his cheeks.

"Says the beautiful one," he gently murmurs, and your heart melts. Before you can shoot more sweet compliments and tease each other for a little bit longer, two whining voices interrupt the moment, drawing both of yours and Melissa's attention back to the twins. They look discontent.

"Mom, dad, ew!" They tug on your fingers. "You promised the walk, let's go, let's go!"

You share an apologetic, but loving look with Diluc, and he reaches for the handle to twist it and push the grand door open.

The air is filled with loud laughter and splashes of crystal clear water. The falcon is contently soaring in the sky, observing the Dawn Winery grounds with her keen eyes. 

She spots a lone horse, a beautiful raven black stallion trotting to the wonderful direction, and the horseman is all too familiar to her. With a resounding cry, she dives down and smoothly glides along her path to the Cavalry Captain, who lifts his head and shades his eye from the bright spring sun.

"Looks like we are being welcomed," he smiles, spotting his brother’s winged companion. Sitting in front of him Callie also glances up, squinting, but eventually making out the silhouette of a nearing bird.

“You think she’s gonna sit on your head again?”

“Only one way to find out.”

And sure enough - once Melissa reaches the two, she immediately lands on Kaeya’s head. Mindful of her claws, she quickly settles there with a content squeak, earning the girl’s giggles and Kaeya’s sigh.

“And why am I not surprised…”

Just like that they continue their path, only hurrying the horse a little, eager to share this spring afternoon with the Ragnvindr family.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series (completed)

* loosely inspired by Sara Cate’s “Salacious Players Club” series

🔥 EXTRA CONTENT HERE 🔥

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016** , 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters , ** = smut chapters

Summary: 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓. After getting kicked out by your brother, you have no other choice but to take off your big girl pants and add stripper to your resume. Desperate to pay the bills and support your little sister, are you willing to accept the risks that come with such a perilous profession? With the stage name ‘Shy Girl’, you take the leap of faith, weaponizing your divine femininity to steal the hearts of all the bachelors in Hawkins — including Eddie Munson’s, the owner of Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club.

warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, eventual smut (a lot of it), voyeurism, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, drug/alcohol, profanities, sexual harassment, domestic violence

Welcome to Hellfire.

theme song: meet you in hell by jade lemac “Look me in my eyes. I know that you’re scared. You see yourself and you cry for help. Look me in my eyes. Tell me it’s not fair. If you taught me well, I’ll meet you in hell.”

Chapter 001: Wolves

The Hargroves are cursed. Generationally, that is. One night Billy takes it too far, costing him the only thing he had left... his sisters.

TW — abuse, domestic violence, blood, profanities, implications of infidelity, death

word count: 8.5k words

author's note: there are four different acts to this introductory chapter :) so much foundation to lay down and i spent forever on this to craft it perfectly for you guys. thank you for being as excited about this fanfic as I am releasing it. i hope you all enjoy! -madelyn

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

"Once I ran to you. Now I run from you."

♡

Duality of man. Mom was always a firm believer in that notion. In fact, she always used to say, "Inside of you, there are two wolves: a good one and a bad one. Depending on which mouth you feed, one will triumph the other.”

It became more evident when she died.

“YOU FUCKING SLUT. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GO.”

Once identical in every aspect, the differences between you and your brother slowly began to unravel over time.

Being ‘good wolf’ was impossible while living under the same roof as Billy. So you settled for neutral wolf instead. Meanwhile, the big, bad wolf possessed him at age 15, when he realized hitting your father back would get him to back off.

It was 2010, post-homecoming game.

Dad nearly flung Billy into another dimension when he came home. The preferred alternative would have been attempting to reason with one another, but it just wasn’t something that was normalized in the Hargrove household. Communicating with words was a daunting task; but not nearly as daunting as accountability.

“I’M DONE WITH YOU, BILLY. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE.”

“I’m a literal minor, you can’t do this, Dad!” Billy wailed. "PLEASE!"

Over a football game.

The Friday Night Lights were a staple of Vista Palms High School. That and all of its nacho-eating, pot-smoking, LMFAO-playing, neon-filled goodness.

"C’mon V-P, c’mon, let’s beat S-D!” For weeks Billy had been chanting that mantra. There was no clearer indication that it’s where he would be the night of the championship game. He didn’t communicate it, of course, but it was implied. But still, it didn’t cross Dad’s mind.

Any parent who thought their child was coming home on time — and sober — that night was a foolish one. Especially if their kid was a sophomore with senior status.

“You sure as hell don't act like one,” Dad spat. “Coming home, acting all grown." Little did Dad know Billy was there for community service. Billy was a good student. More than anything he wanted a full ride to a UC, mainly to get away from home. Either that or military. Maybe then, walking on eggshells and being accused of something he didn't do — like drinking and doing drugs — would be a seasonal occurence instead of daily. "ACTING LIKE YOU PAY THE BILLS. YOU DON'T. YOUR MOM AND I DO.”

Dad knew he hit a nerve. It was his signature move aside from alienating his victims to establish control. While the feeling of getting your wings clipped really did you in, reactive abuse was Billy's top trigger, especially when Mom was mentioned. After all, Billy was the one who found Her.

Through glassy eyes and gritted teeth, Billy closed up his fists before mustering up the courage to say, “I’m…not…calling Sue... the operative word.”

Dad snarled. “Like there’s anyone else physically here you’ve reserved that title for?”

Oh.

"This tainted love you've given-"

Billy took the bait, lunging forward to grab Dad. As if on cue, Dad winded up his arm, assuming his usual position. You managed to assert yourself between in hopes of stopping them. Suddenly the back of Dad's hand collided with your cheek, sprawling you onto the couch. Billy watched horrified while you fought to keep your eyes open, growing anxious when all you could hear was the room pulsating around you at the highest frequency you had ever heard in your 15 long years of life. Enough was enough.

One punch. Bridge of the nose. Game over. The control Dad had over you both had ceased.

Billy rushed to your aid while Dad took a few moments to gather himself. It was then his beat-in, throbbing eyes realized that the little boy he mercilessly pushed around was no longer there. His own little Frankenstein had taken his place.

"I gave you all a boy could give you"

"Oh my god, Sissy," Billy cried, crouching down to run a soothing hand through your hair. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you sniff, wrapping a hand around his arm. "I'm fine, Billy. I promise."

"I'm not gonna let that son of a bitch hurt you ever again," he vowed. "I'm gonna fuck him up and anyone else who tries."

"I love you, Brother."

"I love you, Sissy." The magnitude of power that surged through Billy melted into every neuron in his body, the warmth of its adrenaline imitating a tender — long overdue — embrace. He became fully enveloped in what was like an electric current, its tide higher than any wave he's ever surfed. It became more exhilarating than cruising down the I-5 in his Camaro at 130 MPH, and more intoxicating than any keg of beer he's ever swigged at a Wanna-be Project X Party.

It was the rush Billy had been searching for his whole life.

Every high Billy ever pursued before that rapidly declined in value. He would trade in anything for the static that had encoded itself into him. He felt untouchable, a luxury your father couldn’t afford his wife and children.

"YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HER AGAIN, YOU'RE DEAD DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

From that day forward, feeling respected was a freedom Billy was not willing to sacrifice, ever.

"Take my tears and that's not nearly all-"

But now Billy is the abuser, something you never imagined happening given his innately soft personality.

"Oh, tainted love. Don't touch me! Please.”

Slapping. Biting. Choking each other out. Pulling each other’s hair. Calling each other names. Spitting. Throwing things. Who would’ve thought the Hargrove twins were capable of the same horrors as their parents?

Yesterday was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Billy’s voice, like nails on a chalkboard, clawed at your brain in agonizing intervals.

“That’s all Max is. A pathetic little liar.”

“She will do anything for any bit of attention…even whore herself out to all the men in Del Mar.”

“You can get out. And stay out. Since you wanna act so grown all the damn time.”

He became the very thing — or person rather — he sought to destroy. The very person who indirectly, but explicably killed your mother.

And deep down you feared that if you and your stepsister Max don’t get out of that house, you’d both suffer that same fate.

“It's fucking JULY and 90 degrees out!” your sister retaliated. “What do you want me to wear to the beach? Fucking sweats?"

Max was out with friends the night prior. They hosted a birthday bonfire for her at the beach. She broke curfew and got a ride home from a friend. A guy friend. Billy wasn’t having it.

Max always got the short end of the stick. She was an easy target for Billy’s antics. Being the literal carbon copy of the woman he hates the most didn’t make it any better, and neither did taking the bait whenever Billy dealt it to “keep the peace”. Max believes being and acting helpless would get Billy to back down. It was far from the truth. In reality, she was feeding him his supply.

And what a volatile supply it is.

Mom also had another saying: "Anger is just grief with nowhere to go".

So you watched Billy and Max go back and forth with their pickleball tournament-o-insults, shouting at one another to their lungs’ capacity, their dead, black pupils strangling each other mentally while they gathered the physical strength to do so as well. You kept an arm halfway up and torso slightly turned in case you needed to butt in.

“I do this because I love you, Maxine,” Billy insisted. “So just SHUT UP and stop being a little cunt. Okay?”

“You stop being a presumptuous asshole first,” Max fired back. “We’re fighting again — why? Because someone with a penis drove me home? And we broke curfew by 10 minutes? I don’t control traffi-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he dismissed her. “Just say you wanted some dick and call it a night.”

Classic slut-shaming, as if Billy’s Instagram following wasn’t all models, strippers, and OnlyFans girls.

Before you could even process what was happening, the blurbs of their argument skidded to a halt when Max finally broke. Billy watched in subtle amusement as she screamed, her fist meeting the wall repeatedly out of frustration.

Reactive abuse is Billy’s favorite abuse tactic.

“Someone who’s not guilty wouldn’t react like this,” Billy quipped in a sing-song voice, eyeing the new hole in the dry wall that Max had created.

There was no sense in backtracking if Billy already got what he wanted. Max just needed the last word. Before any of you could process it, an acrylic storage box soared through the air, hitting Billy right in the groin. He roared in agony while Max attempted to collect herself off to the side. She still saw red.

That’s when the knife came out.

One slice to the brow and it was over. To ensure the last word was his to keep, Billy ended up chucking a knife at your sister.

“OHMYGOD!” Max shrieked repeatedly, entering the ‘freeze’ stage of her shock. “OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, I’M BLEEDING! I’M BLEEDING, THERE’S BLOOD!”

It was then you realized, the little boy you vowed to protect and refused to leave behind was long gone. Dad’s essence had taken his place now.

“You just don’t know when to FUCKING STOP, do you?” you exclaimed, putting pressure on Max’s eyebrow with a washcloth as she wailed. Suddenly it was Dad you were talking to. They had the same apathetic, dead look in their eyes. “I don’t care who said or did what, throwing a fucking KNIFE?”

“Me?” Billy tutted. “You wanna call me crazy, who did that?” He was referring to the hole in the wall. “And who was the one to throw shit first? EXACTLY. EXACTLY.”

While Billy was technically correct, he would never admit to what he did to provoke you two.

“So you can both get out if you’d like. Be my fucking guests.”

You and Max exchanged one look. The look. It was time. You both were ready and now had the green light. Now was the chance to bolt without immediate consequences.

So you and your sister spent several minutes rummaging through your pre-packed belongings while Billy continued to shit-talk aimlessly around the rental you shared. The place soon reeked of cheap bud and gas station gin. Trash bags were soon filled with your favorite clothes and you shoved them into as many of your childhood suitcases as possible. Struggling to see past your tear-coated eyes, you reached for your books, the ones you've hollowed out 300 pages deep to pocket all the tips from your waitressing job, and shoved the loose bills into your crossbody. You’d sort through them later. Lastly, you popped the cap off the bottom of your salt lamp. There was a pre-paid Visa you bought several months beforehand waiting for you. With trembling hands, you grasped it and whispered a gratitude to the Universe before tucking it neatly into the back pocket of your Levi’s.

When it was all said and done and everything was loaded into your car, you focus on the hole in the dry wall one last time.

Never again.

Billy was complacent throughout the entirety of the event. You glared at him while he continued to soothe himself with drugs and alcohol, refusing to own up to the irreversible damage he caused your little family.

“SIS,” Max boomed from outside. “LET’S GO!”

A part of you used to pity Billy, but now his destructive behavior took away any ounce of guilt you felt for leaving him.

You never fought back until you had no other choice. Similarly, and tragically, Billy shared that very sentiment.

Who the villain is in the narrative relied solely on whose lens you are looking through.

It took you by surprise all the time. How could identical twins, who grew up in the same environment, end up so different from one another?

“I love you, though you hurt me so. Now I’m gonna pack my things and go." - Tainted Love by Soft Cell

There are two wolves inside of everyone.

——————————𓇼——————--------

"Are the pieces of you in the pieces of me? I'm just so scared you're who I'll be. When I erupt just like you do, they look at me like I look at you" - DNA by Lia Marie Johnson

The heart-wrenching ballad by Lia Marie Johnson dissolves as you crank the dial to the left. Music is always depressing when Max has the aux chord.

"Did you hear what I said?" you question her.

Max abruptly sits up and reorients herself, attempting to shrug off the trance “DNA” had put her in for a few minutes.

"No, sorry. What'd you say again?"

"Do you need a bathroom break?"

"I'll go at the airport.”

"Okay, but if you change your mind and decide to take a leak one last time, I'll be happy to oblige.”

Swami’s is also an exit away and you’re just fixing for a hot meal before takeoff. But you don’t directly say that. Besides, Max loses her appetite when she’s upset and may only have room for shitty airplane food.

“I’ll just eat on the plane.”

Stale pretzels and flat soda it is.

Despite the decrease in appetite, Max is holding up well. As well as anyone-who-was-nearly-stabbed-by-her-brother-and-is-now-moving-states-away-from-everything-she’s-ever-known-with-her-sister could be.

It wasn’t your first choice to leave California. In fact, you did everything you could to avoid it. But nonetheless, anyone with a conscious and only $4,000 to their name would make the wise decision to move away to somewhere more affordable.

Enter your online friend, Robin.

Working ungodly hours six days a week to pay the bills took up so much of your time that you had no friends in San Diego — albeit high school friends who would have never guessed how you and Billy turned out. Those friends had happy families anyway. They couldn’t hold space for you. Your online friend Robin, who you met on an art forum, however knew your family dynamic and was there for everything. But she lived in Indiana with her partner and was never able to offer you any physical comfort.

You entertained Robin’s idea of moving to where she lives, a small town in Indiana called Hawkins just 20 minutes southeast of the city. Living under the radar to get your ducks in a row seemed like such a perfect plan, but you didn’t want to do so at the expense of Max losing her only support system she had outside of you.

Moving would’ve also meant pulling her out of school, which wouldn’t be possible because Billy was her legal guardian. Now that she’s graduated high school, and today is her 18th birthday, the game has changed completely.

“Donovan texted me happy birthday,” Max reports, finally disclosing a fragment of her inner conscience. “Thought it was sweet.”

You can’t help but smile. "You thought he wouldn’t?”

She refrains from rolling her eyes and shifts them towards the rocky beach cliffs outside her window.

“You know,” you add. “I really think you two could make long distance work. I’ve never seen so much chemistry between two people before.”

Max scoffs. "Yeah right. Long distance with a guy going to Santa Barbara for college?” She fiddles with the strings of the knit poncho resting atop her lap. “I'd be breaking my own heart."

You bite your lip to stop the waterworks. Max doesn’t deserve any of this. She deserves to enjoy bonfires with her skater friends, surf all the tubular waves, and go on all the nature hikes without worrying about her stepbrother’s codependent-fits-of-rage waiting for her when she comes home. She deserves to eat fried funnel cake at the county fair and share a kiss with the boy of her dreams atop a Ferris wheel on the 4th of July. She deserves a San Diego summer, not a summer spent in hiding from her abuser in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

Max decides to change the subject.

“So what’s Robin like? Your online friend.”

“She’s very sweet,” you breathe. “Been, uh, telling her about Billy for a long time now. Her arms have been open since day one.”

“And her girlfriend?”

“Vicky’s the best,” you insist. “A match made in heaven for sure. It’s like they’re the same person, just different font.”

You get a giggle out of Max. Her laughter during such a turbulent time is like music to your ears. The non-depressing kind.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t get you a gift this year.”

She side eyes you.

“What are you talking about? You quite literally gave me the best gift of all.”

“Did I? What did I give you?”

“You gave me safety.”

And with that, you give yourself a mental pat on the back, confident you made the right choice despite how foreign everything currently felt. The conversation dies down while you and Max ride on, driving further and further away from the Park and Ride you spent the night at, off Coast Highway, and onto the I-5 one last time.

Boarding the plane is a swift process. Your plane is a two-seater, so Max gets the window and you get the aisle. After receiving your snacks and drinks, you decide to play white noise and dissociate for the next five hours. It’s safe to do so, anyways. Liminal spaces were not something you took for granted.

Meanwhile, Max looks out the window, watching as the world she has come to know her whole life shrinks right before her eyes, before disappearing underneath a quilt of soft white cumulus clouds.

“This is 18.”

Goodbye, San Diego.

—————— ✈︎ ———————

Hello, Hawkins.

“Please, make yourself at home,” Robin incites, trudging through the miscellaneous projects that sit at her feet. “As if we weren’t DIY freaks enough, the pandemic really just amplified that.”

The pandemic was a hard time for everyone. You lost your fine dining gig and abruptly switched to UberEats to adjust to the flow of takeout. Billy couldn’t go to the gym, his happy place, and it took a toll on him mentally. Max broke quarantine multiple times to see Donovan, which didn’t sit well with your brother. He of course lashed out on her and also proclaimed that people like her were the reason why America hadn’t opened up yet.

“And I get no time at the gym!” Billy screamed. “So now I have to do this—”

You learned that a decent lamp costed $70 that night.

That wasn’t your first rodeo though. You and Billy grew up replacing furniture all the time. You two would gather up your money and spend it on replacing whatever needed replacing for Mom’s birthday. She always wanted to make your house feel like a home. Feel lived in. You and Billy thought you were heroes doing it, but it dawns on you now that you two were just babies.

“Oh!” Vicky interrupts. “Before we forget…”

You and Max watch her as she scrambles around, looking for something that she seemed ecstatic about.

“Happy birthday, Max!”

“No way, Kate Bush!” Max exclaims as she accepts the gift, an original Kate Bush vinyl record of her album Hounds of Love.

"Wow," you beam, rubbing your sister’s back. “Way to fuel her 80's hyperfixation, huh?"

“We found this at the thrift store,” Vicky boasted. “Knew we had to get it for ya.”

“It’s the real deal too," Robin adds. "Look, printed 1985.”

“It’s perfect,” Max gushes. “Can’t wait to play it on my Crosley.”

She thanks them both and hugs them before running back to the living room to get the rest of your belongings. You listen as she hums some of Kate Bush’s discography along the way.

You then observe Max as she unpacks her things one by one, slightly peppered with remnants of the California sand and the snobby fee it took to ship it all here via cargo. She then proceeds to sit on the new bed to check the springing quality, testing its bounce factor and comparing it to that of her old bed.

You let out a bittersweet sigh.

Suddenly you're eight years old, doing the same thing at the local motel Mom managed to snag a couple nights from when Dad trashed the house.

You turn to look in the mirror atop your new dresser.

Suddenly, you're Mom. Quite literally. You both have the same wavy blonde hair, scattered freckles across your nose that Billy used to call “stardust”, and the same tsunami blue eyes. It makes it no wonder why you and Dad never got along. You are Mom’s spitting image — and Billy is Dad’s.

Funny how life turns out.

You graze the crows feet at the outer corner of your eyes, realizing now how many years have silently passed you by, and then take note of the stress-defined scars in the form of eye baggage from all the sleepless nights that came as a souvenir.

You’ve put up with so much. For so long. The trauma is starting to manifest itself physically.

Robin snaps you back into present day. "So I was thinking we go to Applebee's for dinner, walk around Old Town, get you guys settled and unpacked when we return, Jenga at night, and then-"

She stops when she sees the horrified expression on your face.

“Hey…” the pitch in her comforting, raspy voice heightens. “What’s the matter?”

Your voice breaks. “It’s…” you manage. “It’s been a lot.”

Robin pats your back. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

Without looking, Robin snags a few tissues from a box laying around and gives them to you. You blot the tears away, careful not to mess up the makeup you had on with the intention to make you look less…dead.

“Sue didn’t even call and wish her happy birthday. Her own mother.”

“I’m so sorry,” Robin repeats.

“Every day I watch Max store her trauma in the box... and just shove it into the corner where it gathers dust,” you continue. “If she doesn't unpack it..."

You didn’t even want to think of the collateral damage you and your brother caused her. A part of you wants to think Maxine has remained untouched from that side of you, but the dry blood on her outer brow was a reminder that it was far too late to shelter her from that.

"You see yourself in her."

"And my mom in myself,” you admit. “Now more than ever.”

You rub your eyes.

“I’m rambling, I know. It’s just… SO aggravating. Max deserves better.”

“She’s handling it really well.”

“We don’t know that. I know Max. She’s a pro at hiding her feelings.”

“She’s being strong for you, like you are for her. It’s very endearing, whether you both admit it to each other or not.”

She rubs your arm.

“For as long as Vicky and I are here, you and Maxine have a soft place to land. We are here for you. Y’all are safe.”

You two glance over at Max, who is now unpacking your Zen Basics Himalayan salt lamp. She sets it on top your new bedside table, a reupholstered one whose old wood was painted over by an earthy olive green, the old hardware replaced by eccentric shaped, neutral-toned knobs. Her Crosley sits on your floor, now playing a track off Kate Bush's vinyl while she stares out the window. Your new view for the foreseeable future.

Can't you see where memories are kept bright?

Tripping on the water like a laughing girl

Time in her eyes is spawning past life

One with the ocean and the woman unfurled

Holding all the love that waits for you here

Catch us now for I am your future

A kiss on the wind and we'll make the land.

Dinnertime comes fast, but you blame it on the time zone difference. You call shotgun and ride with Robin in the passenger seat, catching up with your best friend while Vicky and Max watch YouTube shorts in the backseat.

Robin gives you a backstory of everything you pass on the way to Applebees, from the schools to churches to family-owned gas stations. She and Vicky seem to know everyone by a first-name basis, naming random people off and knowing exactly who that is every so often. You try to stay engaged, but the only thing on your mind is where you’re going to apply for a job.

Robin drives into a plaza next.

"This used to be a mall, but now it's completely empty," Robin continues pointing to an empty building with remnants of a star symbol etched on it. "E-commerce really turned this strip into a ghost town."

"So basically, if I wanted a job, it would have to be any of these food places, an office of sorts, or an off-brand Blockbuster store?"

"Family Video is closing too," Vicky chimes in. "It's sad. But I guess Hawkins needs yet another overpriced coffee shop."

"You could always work at the gentlemen's club," Max jokes, pointing off to the side.

You turn to where she’s pointing and take note of the matte black rectangular building by the Sizzler’s. It didn’t seem out of place, but the silhouette of an exotic dancer with devil horns gave the sinister establishment away. You couldn’t read the name of the club, but a part of you tries to.

Robin slightly turns and nods in that direction. "Oh yeah. I heard the girls there make bank in tips."

“I made bank in La Jolla doing fine dining,” you point out. “Maybe I can do the same thing here. But at a similar establishment.”

“Fanciest restaurant you’ll get here is Benny’s,” Vicky says. “You’re gonna have to go to the city for fine dining. I don’t think the commute is worth.”

“Guess stripper is your best option,” Max nudges you.

You shoot a glare her way. “Very funny.”

"I know, I was joking," she scoffs. "Billy would kill you anyways."

Billy would literally go insane if you dared to work at a strip club. The slut-shaming would never end. Not that he never slut-shamed you anyway. There was always something for him to be misogynistic and hypocritical about.

Then it hits you. Billy isn't here. And you really need the money since in this day and age, $4,000 meant nothing. You peer over at the gentlemen's club one last time as it shrinks out of view the further Robin drives.

HELLFIRE.

-----------𓆩♡𓆪------------

Dungeons & Dragons.

Of course one of the very few strip clubs in Hawkins has to be the dorkiest.

But you understand the vision. Beyond the cobblestone entrance, the veil between real life and fantasy thins.

As you near the club with nothing but a purse and car keys in hand, you notice that there’s already security by the door. You’re surprised to see a leaner guy, tall and slender with soft blonde hair and a soft grin to match. He catches sight of you and greets you with a nod.

“Good afternoon,” he says. “How are you today?”

“I’m good,” you nod. You reach for your wallet and give him your ID. Typical screening process. “Yourself?”

“Not too shabby,” he replies.

He examines your ID card. You notice his surprise when his eyes slightly widen before retracting shortly after. You guess that he was wondering why you are here out of all places. You peer over at his name tag while he concludes his screening. Henry.

Upon verification of your identity, the friendly security guard returns your card to you.

“Let me give you a wrist band.”

He motions for you to hold an arm out. You extend your right arm to him and watch as he gracefully pulls a paper wristband out of his pocket, clasping it into place with the side that read “21+” facing upwards.

You take the time to admire the gentleness of this man. The softness of his face. His dreamy gaze.

“Any weapons on you?”

“Uh…” you stammer. “Just pepper spray?”

A laugh escapes from his nostrils. “That’s fine, my dear.”

“I hope I don’t have to use it.”

“Don’t worry, darling. Under my watch, you won’t.”

Henry gently strokes your hand before motioning you inside.

“Enjoy the show.”

“Thanks,” you smile politely.

It’s a slow afternoon, but granted no one goes to a strip club at 2 PM. The Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club was comprehensively laced with playful innuendos. The accent wall by the entrance showcases an array of chains and handcuffs. Kukris, nun-chucks, and flails all of different variants and sizes are displayed on the walls, the point of balance being a vintage pulp print of a metal puppeteer. On the print, "OBEY YOUR MASTER" is written in edgy bubble letters.

Kinky.

And there’s a bonus of this themed club: the ladies are dressed in cloaks. You watch as beautiful women from all walks of life strut around the joint, leaving the clients with only their imagination to guess what’s underneath the tantalizing, medieval velvet.

There are LED signs that lit up corners of the space, indicating what they were for. KAS’ KORNER: GRAB A BITE, DRAGON'S BREATH: HOOKAH LOUNGE, and POTIONS — the bar.

You catch a glimpse of the private show rooms, or at least what you think are the private show rooms.

The LED sign to those rooms read, "I PUT A SPELL ON YOU AND NOW YOU'RE MINE."

The general seating area for the main event reads VECNA’S LAIR.

The Dungeon Master of this joint thought of every possible detail he could and ironed it into perfection.

Surely, someone who truly plays would adore every aspect of all the details, but it was evident that everyone came here for the same reason:

Girls, girls, girls.

You walk over to the bar to see two men conversing behind it.

One looked to be in his late 20s, with scruffy chestnut brown hair, some tired eyes, peach fuzz, and a patterned shirt decorated in a kaleidoscope of colors — a shirt meticulously calculated by quite possibly a girlfriend.

The other looked like he had another year left before being allowed to be behind that counter... of course judging by the “Hawkins High School class of 2021” on his insulated water bottle in his hand, a cracked iPhone in the other, and Beats with a small basketball sticker on it.

When you appear in their periphery, the conversation between the two gradually comes to a stop.

“Whoa,” the younger man hums. “New face. Welcome.”

“Hi. What do you recommend?”

“In terms of what?” the younger man questions slyly. There’s a timidness to the young man’s spirit, making his flirtatious demeanor somewhat dorky. The age appropriate bartender nudges him.

“Drinks, hotshot,” you refrain from chuckling. “Drinks.”

“Depends what you’re into,” the younger man replies, the slyness continuing. “If you’re into light liquors, Jonathan can make you a mean Cîroc with pineapple juice. But if you’re more into the dark stuff…”

He gestures up and down on himself.

“Then look no further.”

“That was very painful to listen to,” the older one who you assume is Jonathan cringes. “Can you get anymore corny?”

“Ta-ha!” the younger one tsks. “He said could I get any more corny. Can you get any more bitchless?”

“I have a girlfriend, Lucas.”

“Emphasis on the singular sense.”

“Nance is all I need.”

"Nancy is all you can pull," Lucas chuckles. "With that goofy ass shirt, man. Stop playing with me."

So you weren’t the only one who thought the shirt was absolutely ridiculous. It had "Bad Bitch Repellant" written all over it.

Jonathan whacks Lucas with the cloth that was sitting atop his shoulder. You request a double Tito’s straight on the rocks from Jonathan to which he automatically starts to make. Lucas continues to interrogate you.

“As you heard, my name is Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.” He extends his hands to you. “But my favorite ladies call me 'Dark Chocolate'. You can call me, 'The Man of Your Dreams' though.”

You take the youngster’s hand in yours and shake it. His heavy locker room cologne makes your nose swell, an uneven mix of what you believe is Axe and — is that Dior?

You tell Lucas your name then hit him with a, “But you can call me ‘When You’re Thirty’.”

Lucas laughs at your joke, beaming up at you as he does so. Then he nods to communicate a gracious fair enough. The flirting, you could sense, was in good nature, playful.

“It was worth a shot,” he shrugs. “Do you have a younger sister by any chance?”

“Oh in your dreams, mister.”

Jonathan chuckles and rubs Lucas’s back.

"That’s enough man, can you go buss that table over there?"

Lucas gives a thumbs up before putting his Beats on and walking away. You divert your attention back to Jonathan who is now done with making your drink.

“Alright… I got a Tito’s double shot — straight — on the rocks,” Jonathan announces as he slides your vice on over. He studies you as you take the drink and request to keep the tab open. “I’m inclined to ask. Are you okay?”

When you’re not around Billy, you wear your heart on your sleeve. It wouldn’t hurt to trauma dump on a stranger. Especially one who asked.

“Pretty far from okay,” you answer before chugging it. “Can’t you tell? It’s 2PM and I’m consoling…” You slosh the drink around in your hand. “…my man Tito.”

“I see that.”

“It’s been a long day,” you continue. “It’s my second day in Hawkins so I thought I’d scope this place out. Dilly dally for a bit.”

“Second day?” Jonathan questions. “As in…ever?”

“Yeah, just moved here.”

The bartender looks around as if he’s missed something. “But…why?”

It’s a fair reaction. If the welcome sign is correct, Hawkins only has a population of 1,314 people. 1,316 now including you and Maxine.

“My friend lives here and convinced me to make the move,” is what you explain, though it only seems to make Jonathan more confused. “Couldn’t take the heat Cali was dishing out. Hawkins seemed like the perfect place to slow down.”

“Oh man,” Jonathan mutters. “California to here, what a change.”

“You lived here long?”

“Lived here my whole life,” he answers as a matter of factly.

“What made you get a job at Hellfire?”

Jonathan didn’t have to think. “I love booze.”

You laugh together, raising your half-empty class to clink his invisible one.

“I hate 9-5s,” Jonathan draws on. “Working from home ‘bout damn near drove me insane, don’t know how my mom does it with such ease. My boss here smokes me out on occasion and my friends make me nachos.” He smiles. “Can’t think of anything better.”

“There we go.”

"I’ve also just been looking out for women my whole life," he adds. "Bout time I get some financial compensation for it, no?"

“Amen to that,” You chug the last of your drink. “Thanks for your service.”

"Pleasure is mine. Anything else I can do for ya?"

You think. "Hm, probably not you, but maybe the hiring manager can do something for me."

"You're looking to work here?" he clarifies as you nod. "Oh sweet, you're going to wanna talk to Eddie. He's the owner."

"And a dweeb," says a significantly younger looking fellow as he slides into the conversation.

“Here we go.”

In front of you now is a gentleman around Lucas’s age with wild curly brown hair. You watch as he helps himself to a club soda, dunking three large wedges of lemon into his cup as well.

The guy offers you a playful, pearly white grin. “Eddie may own a nice club with some smokin' hot babes, but he's got no game whatsoever."

“Hey Dustin.”

“Sup, man.”

“You think so?" you challenge him.

"I know so,” the boy who you now know as Dustin insists. “Can't talk up a chick to save his life."

"Yeah," Jonathan says, half-jokingly. "He's the bitchless one."

Dustin glances between you both, slightly puzzled.

You shake your head. "No way."

"I wouldn't say he's that bad," Dustin says. "I actually think he's seeing someone casually. But in general, dude's got zero rizz."

"Projecting are we?" Jonathan nudges him.

“HELL. NO.” Dustin booms. You attempt to refrain from laughing. “My game is what got me the baddest gal at science camp. Eddie? Clumsy as hell, stutters on his words, he's got the anxiety level of someone who drinks cold brew on an empty stomach… Now that I say it out loud, I think he does drink cold brew on an empty stomach. Some chicks dig it though, which is good for him.”

Curly was fun to observe. Once he’s done talking down on the club owner, Dustin politely walks over and shakes your hand, bowing to you like you’re a princess of sorts. You later find it that like Lucas, Dustin works as a bus boy and server, and his girlfriend makes sure that he remains in Kas’ Korner at all times. Dustin has about two years left before legally being permitted behind the POTIONS bar, but that doesn’t stop him from using it as his own storage shed.

You watch as he grabs some deodorant and hair pomade from an old shoe box under the counter.

“Anyways, later,” Dustin holds up a peace sign, starting towards the door. “I'm not on today, I'm just hitting the gym with Steve."

“Later, man!” Jonathan calls after him.

“Deuces. Say hello to Dark Chocolate for me.”

Before he could get any further, the loud swinging of a door closeby causes him to halt in place.

“ALRIGHT!” a loud, gruff voice booms from that direction. “Which one of you shitheads forgot to take inventory on the 10th?!”

You can’t help but turn your body towards the ruckus. And to your own pleasant surprise, you don’t regret it. Emerging from the door comes the possible shift lead, a tall and broad man with medium length wavy brown hair, chocolate-colored, youthful doe eyes that contradicted the deep lines on his face, bleach white Chuck Taylor’s, ripped black jeans, and a Hellfire Club baseball tee with the logo smack-dab in the middle.

The man looked to be in his mid to late 20s, with an assertiveness in his stride. His lips, a perfectly formed bow with a smirk-like undertone. The cool rings that rest upon his fingers look icy as they sway at his side, shining in contrast to his dark clothing.

The man is too tunnel-visioned to see where he was going. But that doesn’t stop Dustin from looking absolutely mortified.

“The 10th and the 11th,” the man clarifies. “So for all we know, we might need new kegs and ground chili, which is one more thing I have to d-”

Finally he looks up, with you being the first thing he sees. Proximity taking him aback, he snaps out of his stress-induced trance and softens up at the sight of you. You meet his eyes, big and beautiful with long wispy lashes and you can’t help but mimic the flutter in your heart in the form of a smile.

“Whoa.” He says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Whoa, indeed.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s Eddie’s first day back, he tends to get a little in the zone,” Dustin explains.

Eddie.

Does that mean…

“Are you the hiring manager?”

You didn’t know who you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the man in front of you. He must be proud of himself, having such a successful business so early in the game.

Eddie gathers himself quickly.

“Dungeon Master, hiring manager, manager, owner, sanitations, re-stocker,” Mr. Jack-of-all-trades confirms. “I do it all.” He grimaces at Dustin. "Since you know, some people don't wanna work."

"You said I can have off!" Dustin exclaims defensively. "I worked for you before the weekend already and I wasn’t even on the 10th and 11th, fuck outta here."

All it takes is a scowl his way from the boss and Dustin is radio silent. The look on Eddie's face definitely said "Watch your tone". Eyes are all on you once more soon after.

Eddie’s gaze softens when he looks at you.

“Were you…looking to apply?”

“Yeah,” you reply sheepishly. “As a dancer. I’d like to perform here.”

“You don’t sound too confident.”

“Some guys like shy girls,” you shrug.

He laughs, a dark honey kind of laugh that just oozed from the back of his throat. “That they do.” His voice deepens drastically. Eddie studies you. “Any dancing experience?”

“Dancing, yes.”

“Stripping experience?”

“None.”

“Hm,” Eddie says. “What do you have experience in?”

“I danced for a bit…I have good core strength,” you explain vaguely. “And I’ve worked in the restaurant industry so I’d say customer service is my superpower.”

Eddie soaks in the information.

“I know how to talk to people,” you continue. “I know the right things to say. Favorite pass time is upselling drinks. And dessert…”

You wait for Eddie to take the low hanging fruit. He doesn’t.

"Any experience with the pole?”

Your cheeks grow hot. You decide to lie.

"No.”

“Kinda essential for this profession, sweetheart.”

"I know," you respond humbly. "I wouldn’t doubt it for a second..." you scan the room. “So uh, do I need a permit to perform here?”

“Nah, Hawkins is a lawless wasteland pretty much,” he sighs placing his hands on his hips. “And my club does things a little different anyways. The ladies also don’t pay to perform, we pay them to.”

Shit. Strippers pay to perform at venues?

“The dining experience is what brings the base revenue in,” Lucas explains, returning from wherever he had been. “The ladies are a luxury.”

“And should be treated as such,” Jonathan chimes in.

“I take it you don’t work at any other clubs?” Eddie questions judging by your wide eyes attempting to take in every bit of information that has been dumped on you. The man sees right through your mask.

“No, but I-”

“I personally like to give everyone a chance,” Eddie says. “So don’t worry babe, you’re good. Even though you don’t have any experience, your energy tells me that you have potential. Wanna show us what you can do?”

Your heart sinks. The handsome club owner called you babe. And you’re also being asked to perform with the little experience you have — in front of girls who had tons of experience.

“Here? Now?”

Eddie nods.

You weren’t prepared to dance today. But with your sister and the mountain of debt on your mind, you are willing to do anything. So you walk over to Jonathan and tell him what song you feel most comfortable performing to and stretch as he takes the time to find it. When all is said and done, you make your way to the icy pillar made of chrome steel that was calling for your attention.

You exhale deeply.

Back to the old stomping grounds. The last time you worked with a pole you were wearing Heeley’s and light up sneakers. Of course in place of the horny spectators there were playground supervisors, and the only “bars” there were monkey bars. Oh, and you were 8, not 28.

The slut-shaming still existed, though. One time a boy told you that you were acting like a ‘hoe’ for trying to do a trick upside down. To Billy’s retaliation though. Before you knew it, the same boy was being shoved down and dragged across the wood chips, acquiring a series of splinters along the way. Admin phoned home. You and Billy got spanked. But, of course, Billy had no regrets. While you both cooled off together, you remember him grazing your hand, telling you he’d beat that kid up “a gajillion times over”.

He kept that promise. Except as you two grew older, it was you he was doing it to. A gajillion times over.

You laugh at the bittersweet nostalgia.

“Whenever you’re ready, babe,” Eddie says.

You give Jonathan a thumbs up to play your song selection. Soon, Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club is filled with the catchy, seductive tune that is Layla by Eric Clapton.

You start with a small stroll around the pole. Then a dramatic dip to flaunt your bouncy golden locks. Soon, the women of Hellfire gather around with the men following soon after to watch you work your magic in Vecna’s crowded Lair.

If muscle memory is in your favor, they are in for a good show.

What will you do when you get lonely

No one waiting by your side?

You've been running, hiding much too long

You know it's just your foolish pride

Eddie claims a seat at a throne directly in front of the pole. He studies your technique, your movements, your facial expressions. You aren’t sure if reality is projecting onto you or if you’re dizzy from all the spinning, but you almost see a slight smile spread across the club owner’s face. It prompts you to keep going.

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

It’s a lot harder, your techniques and tricks. Most likely since you weigh more than 50 pounds now and had to exert more energy to keep yourself balanced an aligned. But nonetheless, you persist.

Tried to give you consolation

Your old man had let you down

Like a fool, I fell in love with you

You turned my whole world upside down

You buck your hips upward from you back arch to go into an upside down position. It earns you some hooting and cheering from the crowd.

“You better work, mamas!” a dancer cheers.

“I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT!”

“YOU GO GIRL!”

“YAAAS!”

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, I'm begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

Eddie watches intently, leaning backwards with his hands clasped forward. You feel his eyes burn through you, from the top of your head down to your toes. You feel as if he’s mentally scoring you like you’re at a competition, but the sisterhood that cheers you on makes you feel slightly less intimidated.

“SHE’S SO GOOD!” comes a high-pitched voice in the crowd. “I FREAKING LOVE HER!”

You turn to look at your own personal cheerleader, a bright-eyed cute little redhead with pigtails with an outfit that looks like an ode to Britney Spears’ “Hit Me Baby One More Time”. She has cherry hair ties that hold her two pigtails at the bottom.

You watch her clap and jump up and down, cheering you on with a beam in her eyes that made you feel like your souls have been friends for decades.

Motivated to attempt more risqué moves, you jump into the splits before kicking your legs around to end on your knees.

Clapping and whistling erupts from the lair. Once it dies down, Eddie stands up, offering you a delighted series of slow claps as he makes his way towards you.

"That was really good, Shy Girl. I like how you finished your set."

“Aw, thanks Eddie.”

He walks around you.

"Go like this?" Eddie does a stretching motion, lifting his hand up.

You imitate him and reach up.

"Okay, and... turn like this? Then pop your ass out a bit more."

The word rolled off the club owner's tongue like it was nothing. It was done in a way that was professional, a hint of respect in his tone with no sort of ulterior motive.

You swallow hard, attempting to internally tame the goosebumps on rising upon your skin. He’s just giving feedback, he’s just giving feedback. This is a professional line of work.

You do as he says as he circles around you, fingers grazing on the cool floor of the stage just inches away from your thighs. He taps them in thought.

"For a beginner you’re pretty damn good,” he says.

“Yeah?” you look up at him and smile.

“Yeah,” his voice deepens. “You’re a natural. All that shyness just went away.”

Well, it’s about to return, you think to yourself.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Not in this specific setting.”

There’s a slight shift in his eyes as his imagination wanders. The dimples at the side of his mouth concave slightly.

“I gotcha.”

Eddie clears his throat. “So uh, when can you start?”

Today is Wednesday. You have tomorrow, Friday, and the weekend to settle you and Max in and make any last minute stops. Then the appointment with the other loan officer and DMV appointment on Monday. Tuesday afternoons are dry — everywhere so that left the earliest you can start as

"Next Tuesday? In the evening?"

A soft snort escapes from the club owner’s nose.

"Driest night of the week," he comments, looking around his club.

He turns back to you.

"But a good time for orientation. Works for me, Shy Girl. Can I call you that?”

You smirk. “So I got the job?”

He nods.

“Then you can call me what you want,” you smile shaking his hand. “In this case I’m Shy Girl Hargrove.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles. He knows you’re flirting. Eddie accepts your hand and shakes it firmly.

“Eddie. Pleased to formally meet you. And welcome to Hellfire.”

You two exchange contact information for professional purposes before he leaves. You study Eddie as he sees himself out, planting a firm, teasing smack on Lucas’s stomach on his way and whispering something to Jonathan as well.

Your cheerleader from the crowd excitedly makes her way over.

“I know a dancer slash gymnast when I see one,” she chirps. “I’m Chrissy. Stage name is Cherry.”

You two shake hands and exchange further compliments with one another. Your heart swells when you realize you’re slowly starting to find community.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

Others come and say hello, but you’ve tuned out all the faces because all you can think about is Eddie. His demeanor. The way he carries himself. His presence alone was something so intoxicating that it lingered around the place in his absence.

Your heart flutters.

“Oh, Hargrove!” Jonathan says. “Before you go I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to worry about the drink.”

“Oh?” you respond. “No?”

“Eddie says it’s on the house.”

You smile and Jonathan returns the favor, making sure you see him when he voids your entire tab. As you wave bye to all your spectators, you release a grateful sigh. You felt very humbled about this new, yet unexpected beginning.

The happiness soon wears off when the events that just unfolded dawn on you. Suddenly, the flutter in your heart moves to your stomach, settling in a way that feels eerie. The unknown is pestering you again. Wrong, but oh so right and necessary.

You take in the area around you. You have a place to call home. You’re a stripper now. Your boss just bought your drink. You’re going to have money coming in. Oh, and YOU’RE A STRIPPER NOW.

Then it dawns on you. You need to go shopping.

[sugurufic]

What about Gojo and Geto (separately) they love their the reader but they don't admitted to eachother neither the reader,until they go to the beach with the school and the reader drown so the boys went towards them in the water saving them, and when they got them they went out of the water doing that cool pose holding the reader in bridal style before placing them on the sand doing cpr

In the end they confess they're love to eachother 💗

Maybe add some angst? Like Gojo and Geto thinks that their crush is dead?

Thank u in advance

this prompt took me a while to figure out how to write, hence the time it took to respond. I hope you enjoy this ^.^ (could only write for gojo because exams T.T)

Word Count: 1.4k

It's a beautiful day, Gojo thinks, smiling as he watches you and Utahime splash water on each other, sitting under the umbrella to save himself from the scorching sun.

He is sipping his coconut water, pretending to sleep behind his opaque glasses while his bright blue eyes focus on your beautiful figure, following your bright yellow swimsuit as you go further into the waves, the distant sound of your giggles music to his ears. Suguru isn't there to tease him; he is away with Nanami to get everyone ice cream.

Gojo rests his eyes only for a single moment - a moment where everything that could go wrong goes wrong. Your giggles fade, and the waves are suddenly too loud - a shriek that jolts him from his serene thoughts, then everything falling silent as he fails to spot your yellow swimsuit anywhere.

His six eyes frantically look for you, where the current of the Pacific Ocean might have dragged you. Gojo's long legs have kicked off, and running to the water, glasses forgotten and practically floating on the sand and into the water, swimming to catch a glimpse of you. He is working on pure adrenaline, frantically praying to whatever gods are listening to keep you safe. Utahime’s screams for help fall on his ears, only adding to his panic.

Gojo is already in waist deep water, his ears filled with his own distraught heartbeat. His electric blue eyes widened, unblinking, afraid to miss even a slight sight of you. His six eyes frantically flicker to catch a flash of yellow in the blue ocean water. It’s a battle against time, a battle which he cannot afford to lose. There’s so many things to do, so many words left to be said, there's only so much time left!

Tears prickle his eyes from the terror of losing the person possibly the most important to him and the salt from the ocean, but he doesn’t dare blink. The tears warm his red face, unwilling to sacrifice even a millisecond that could potentially endanger your life even more. His large hands shake uncontrollably, freezing even amidst the heat.

A shiver of relief runs down his spine at the sight of your yellow swimsuit and he rushes into the deep water, large hand grasping your still shoulder and pulling you away with all the strength he could muster. Once back in the waist deep water, Gojo pulls you into his arms, arms slung under your shoulders and below your knees to carry you out of the water. His heart threatens to claw out of his throat as he doesn’t feel you move against him, not even a little. His overworked brain struggles to recall the basics of CPR - trying to recall the mantra-like chant he had been made to remember during his school days. Some semblance of a memory comes to him - however it does little to soothe his nerves.

Gently lowering your still form on the dry sand, Satoru falls to his knees beside you, frantically pushing the heel of his hand at the centre of your chest. He keeps pressing down and releasing the pressure until the salty ocean water begins to escape from your mouth. It’s a good sign. Blue eyes drowning behind tears and pale face turned red - Satoru is a pillar of panic in that moment, pushing on your chest until you’ve stopped throwing up water. 

The chest compressions do nothing - your chest does not rise and fall as it should, body still as a statue. Your skin has wrinkled from the sheer amount of water it has absorbed and your complexion dulled - it’s making him think of a sight he doesn’t allow himself to word. Instead, he focuses on recalling CPR lessons while repeatedly doing chest compressions.

A thought crosses his frantic head and he leans lower, holding your chin with one hand to open your mouth while the other closes your nose. Taking deep breaths, he exhales with his lips on yours - they are cold to the touch, fueling his panic. He has always imagined your lips to be warm, to feel them against his, and now that it was happening he doesn’t want it this way; with you being cold and unresponsive.

It takes quite a while for your breaths to return with a gasp, and you cough up some more seawater right on Satoru’s pretty face - but he doesn’t mind at all. He’s too relieved to care about the water on his face. 

Shoko sits beside him now, having run all the away from the restaurant. She does her magic, and your coughing fits stop with your eyes flickering behind the eyelids. 

When you open your eyes with a gasp, suddenly sitting up, your head bumps into Satoru’s. Still disoriented, you lay back down on the sand, the white mop of Satoru’s hair blurring with the bright blue sky. You aren’t even sure if that is him - maybe you are imagining things.

“Ow,” Satoru mumbles, rubbing his head. You’re breathing, squinting. You’re moving. He keeps repeating the words to himself, holding your hand to comfort both you and himself. They way your fingers tightly wrap around his is the reassurance that he needed.

With your brows knitted together and lips glued shut, you shake your head, trying to get back your bearings. The hand in yours - possibly Satoru’s - is your tether to the conscious world, one that you aren’t ready to let go just yet. Finally you manage to open your eyes, only to have your friend hovering over you, his bright blue eyes peering into yours.

“Hello there, Satoru,” You try to joke, but your voice comes out choked - it is from the salt water - and your throat burns a little as well.

“You scared the shit out of me,” He complains, white brows scrunching together in a frown.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your throat still burning. “Can you take me somewhere inside?”

He nods before promptly picking you up, bridal style and you have half the mind to be embarrassed, as your heart thunders against your ribcage, finally spotting Shoko behind you, watching the two of you with a slight smile. You sheepishly grin at her, trying to mask your embarrassment. 

Shoko accompanies you inside the resort’s room, directing the stewards there to bring you all sorts of things - electrolyte solutions, juices, and energy drinks. When you complain about the burning sensation in your throat, she makes you drink a ton of water - and then asks for a steamer. You still haven’t gotten all your bearings back so she explains to Satoru what he needs to do to take care of you, and cares for you that he does. He’s with you for the next two hours, making you drink electrolyte solutions, feeding you soup, ensuring that you are hydrated and helping you clean out your hair. It’s like you have got a personal nurse in him.

“I am so grateful to you for saving me, Satoru,”

“Well, you should be.” Satoru pouts. “I had to kiss you to save you,”

“On a second thought, you should’ve left me to die,”

“And let you live this down?” He smirks. “No, never.”

“Oh great sorcerer Satoru, how will I ever pay you back?” you roll your eyes, annoyed.

“You should return that kiss you stole from me.” He narrows his eyes at you, a rare evening seeing him without his opaque glasses for so long.

“Oi, you are the one who stole a kiss from me,” you sneer. “You should be the one returning it.”

“Oh yeah? Would you like that?” He raises his brow with a smirk.

“Would you like that?” You tease him. It’s comical how his eyes widen, but he quickly recovers.

“Kissing a pretty woman whose life I saved?” His smooth voice is teasing. “I’d like that very much. In fact, I think I should’ve done that a while ago.”

It’s now your turn to be flustered. “What do you mean?” you ask, voice coming softer than you intended.

He’s sitting beside you now, nose brushing against yours. “I think… we would be great as more than friends,” his big blue eyes fall down to your lips once before settling on your eyes. “Don’t you think so?”

You do - but you don’t say it, opting to close the minuscule gap between the two of you instead. You slot your lips against his in a kiss that languid and slow, full of desires and feelings that are yet to be said.

“At least take me out on a date first,” he softly chuckles when you pull back.

“How does Saturday 6 pm sound to you?” you wink, maintaining a serious voice. “Dress nicely for me, princess,”

“Sounds perfect,” Gojo chuckles, batting his pretty eyelashes at you.

A/N: Gojo is my beautiful princess with a disorder

[sister-of-hitoshi]

IM BACK AGAIN BUT WITH OUT THE COVER OF AN ANON!!! Can I get another Mr. Villain x reader? This time can I pleaseee have the reader be a baker? Making him cute lil cupcakes with panda faces!!!!

To my loveliest @crystalmonk5579 of course!!! Thanks a lot for coming again and requesting ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ <33 I can only hope that I didn't disappoint, sorry for the delay (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

Sending you love!

Adultered Confections

Genre: Fluff

Anime: Mr Villain's Day off

Character: Warumono-san/ Mr Villain

Word count: 1k+

Note: That gif is literally just him coming to terms with his new-found feelings sensations 😭

"Ahhh~ look at that cloud, it looks just like his fluffy hair"

You sigh, your consciousness floating in a happy dream before the ding of the oven jolted you up from your slumber, starting a chain reaction which finally ended up with a bag of flour all over you.

"Why do all my dreams always end up like this! Ugh." You exasperatedly made your way to the oven while patting your face to take out the cupcakes. This was your new recipe, and you wanted it to be a hit. Although a small batch among them was way more special than the rest.

They were the panda themed cupcakes for your crush.

"I know I currently look bad but all this pain would be so worth it if only he was here to comfort me and pat all this flour off" You animatedly nodded to yourself, satisfied with your own reasoning while being completely ignorant to the jingle of the shop door-bell.

A pat on your back and you screamed- almost.

Turning around you were met face to face with the guy-of-your-dreams. He first stared at you, and then stared at his fingers covered with flour.

"Would you like me to help you in some way?"

He was a kind man, the kindest you've ever met, and extraordinarily handsome on top of that.

"Pat all this flour off of me!!-" Wait wait- that came out without much thought!!- "-....please?"

How could I be so bold??! You internally screamed. You were about to immediately correct your 'mistake' when he took out his handkerchief.

"Excuse me then" he said, and started patting your face.

You immediately closed your eyes shut, only taking small peeks at him out of embarrassment. You would be lying if you didn't admit to feeling heartbroken at his lack of reaction.

But well that's just who he was. A calm and composed man.

Surely girls would be throwing themselves at him. You haven't even been able to express your interest in him properly except for well- giving him freebies everytime he came regardless of whether he bought something or not, always make light talk with him to know about his interests and days, chalking out his day-off routine using all the "classified information" - things he tells you about himself, pack extra sweets, keep your shop open longer on particular days of his visit and also-

Yeah, you get it.

I'm a rock- I'm a r.o.c.k

You continued to chant your newfound mantra in your head until he was done with dusting patting flour off of you. You opened your eyes and thanked him shyly, promising to repay his kindness. But of course, you being a blind, non-living rock, failed to notice his blushing eartips.

All the while he was busy doing his job of cleaning you and staring at your face a little bit more than that his ears had felt a bit warm, his heart had felt warmer, and he had this tingling sensation in his stomach. It had actually been quite a few times when he has felt this sort of unfamiliar sensation now, but today it felt more intense.

"So, how did you land up like this?"

He asked, tilting his head. So adorable-

"Well I was making these cup- OHH!!"

"Please wait it's a surprise for you!-" Without waiting for a reply, you swiftly turned around, ready to dash towards the oven when your head hit a nearby rack which somehow caused a box of wooden spatulas of varied shapes to fall on your head somehow, which triggered another chain reaction somehow which again ended up with a bag of flour all over you. Really, again.

"....I really really can't believe my luck!!!"

You exclaimed exasperatedly, looking down at your feet. That's it I look like a fool in front of him I'm so so embarrassed let me just dig up a hole and bury myself there maybe even do-

"Pfft-"

You looked up at him and caught him smiling down at you. You were blessed with his laugh, okay time for me to be in heaven now which he was trying so hard to hold in.

His mind only repeated one word to him, over and over again. Cute.

Cute cute cute cute cute-

"Um... I know it's really weird that I'm like this- I mean would you mind doing it no- no- I'm sorry-" you were trying to find the best words that would fit your current situation while grabbing at your work uniform by it's hem and blushing, when his actions stopped you from rambling further. He had again started to clean you up with another handkerchief now, all the while smiling at you.

For some reason, even my neck feels very tingly now.

Wait- he always felt this way when he was with you...had you mixed something in your confectionery?!

He was almost going to become very serious about this situation and ask you about the ingredients. But then you looked up at him and smiled-

He lost all his composure. He could do nothing except for continuing to stare at you and reply with a robotic 'welcome'.

"Umm then... Would you like to come with me over here? I really doubt my luck right now so.."

"Sure thing" He smiled and complied, now standing beside you while you took out whatever you had baked for the day.

But then you suddenly grabbed his hands to save yourself from tripping.

His entire being went on high alert as he swiftly positioned himself behind you, your back being supported by his broad chest. His ears were completely red now.

"T-that was close!!" You shouted out, completely flustered. You were feeling perturbed now, anything could happen to you and your cupcakes with this dull luck of yours. Both his hands were supporting your shoulders now to help you stabilize, so taking this as an opportunity, you nudged the tray towards him without turning around.

Here goes nothing-

"Panda themed cupcakes for my most cherished customer and special person.... Hope you l-like them."

"Is this a gift?"

"Yes, of course, now hurry up and take it!"

He continued to stare at them for a few seconds, before taking one in his hand, all the while the other one holding your shoulder continued to tremble.

What is this texture?!!

He studied the cupcake, like it was some state-of-the-art sculpture. The texture of the panda cupcake was so fluffy, it looked so soft, it gazed at him so lovingly his sense of guilt almost compelled him to say no-

You had turned around.

Your eyes met his.

Your eyes

He immediately stuffed his face with two cupcakes.

The taste was so blissful he imagined himself being hugged by soft giant pandas... and you?

You were there hugging him?

He immediately snapped out of his blissful trance, your voice calling out to him very sweetly, asking him if he liked it, telling him that it was a special recipe for him and him only.

"Oh..."

He squeezed his coat fabric.

This feeling....it had nothing to do with the ingredients used. It was the baker, you, all along.

[mochidolls]

𝜗ϱ : just kids.

n : based on this request by anon, i took it more into the childhood friends to lovers direction!

warnings : slight mention of negative body image / mentions of injury

click for palestine / how you can help palestine

it was fourth grade when you realised it. your crush on lottie to be specific. the two of you had been the closest since the day both you lost your first tooth. swinging on the monkey bars, one at each end trying to get to the middle the fastest which ended up with the two of you colliding into one another and out came the first tooth. since then you two were inseparable.

the moment your crush had really solidified had been when the two of you just won your first football national game. you both were on a high from the victory, celebrating at lottie’s home. you two were changing in order to go bowling that same evening along your parents and siblings, lottie’s parents unable to attend due to ‘unexpected’ circumstances at their respective workplaces. everyone knew that it was complete utter bullshit though.

“can you hurry up? your parents will be here soon!” lottie groaned as she watched you fiddle with the hem of your soccer kit, the number 4 written across the back. you were reluctant to change in front of lottie, sure the two of you had been close for years but you were a teenager now it was wayy different from when the two of you were 6 or 7.

“just give me a sec jeez.” you huffed turning your back to face her. if you do it quick enough, she won’t see. if you do it quick enough, she won’t see. a constant mantra you repeated to yourself under your breath which to lottie sounded like:

a. you were either going insane.

OR

b. chanting some sort of spell.

“you okay?” lottie asked slowly, getting up from her bed and approaching you.

“‘m fine.” you quickly tugged down the shirt before crossing your arms over your chest. oh. lottie knew you all too well, especially the cues to signal you were uncomfortable.

“i can go to the kitchen or something while you change.” lottie offered softly.

“it’s fine. i’m okay.” you mumbled back in response, taking an inhale. just change already, don’t be dumb.

quickly you took off your football kit, and your back was shown to lottie, all the scars from your falls while playing displaying themselves to lottie, and although they weren’t something to be shameful of, your teenage brain hated the imperfections that littered your body. lottie took note of that, like she always did when it came to you.

after changing into a much cleaner and comfortable top, you turned to face lottie who had a weirdly odd soft gaze in her eyes.

“what are you looking at?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“nothing, you’re just pretty.” lottie shrugged and how could she? shrug so nonchalantly as if she hadn’t melted your heart completely right there and then.

“thanks.” jesus, talk about being awkward.

you fell out of love with football. more so actually playing the sport. it wasn’t much of your thing anymore, more lottie’s. however as the years passed, your crush for lottie grew stronger.

you watched lottie progress in her soccer career and you had been so very proud of how far she’d come. wanting to still be involved in soccer (and close to lottie) you decided to be the team's physio of sorts. alongside misty you learned first aid as well as other skills to equip you fit enough for the position. every game you’d tend to their calves and potential injuries that would arise. you enjoyed it. more than you anticipated.

today had been training, so you weren’t expecting anything serious needing to be attended to. or so you thought.

you had been seated on the sides, watching the girls play when the disaster struck. in true to playing her position, lottie had tried to defend a goal incoming by jackie. however in trying to get the ball, came a heavy collision, leading lottie on the floor with a groan and she clutched onto her ankle. instantly you sprung into action, running over to her ssessed her ankle, noting the slight swelling and her grimace of pain.

"lot, can you move your ankle?" you asked gently, your voice laced with concern.

lottie winced as she tried to move it. "it hurts," she admitted, her voice strained.

you nodded, your mind racing as you recalled your first aid training. "okay, i’m going to support your ankle and help you sit up slowly," you instructed, slipping your arm under hers and carefully lifting her into a sitting position.

once she was settled, you reached for the first aid kit you always kept nearby during games. with practiced efficiency, you wrapped an ice pack around lottie's ankle to help reduce the swelling, all the while trying to keep your own nerves in check.

as you helped lottie to her feet, a rush of emotions flooded through you. the worry for her well-being mingled with something else, something deeper that you had been trying to ignore for far too long.

with lottie leaning on you, you guided her off the field and towards the team's locker room, your heart pounding in your chest for an entirely different reason now. as you walked, you stole glances at lottie, her hair slightly disheveled from the game, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and gratitude.

once you reached the locker room, you helped lottie settle onto a bench before sitting down beside her.

as you tended to lottie's ankle, your worry was palpable, etched across your features making it all too easy for the girl in front of you to know your current mental state and lottie, couldn't help but tease you.

"i’m not going to die, y'know?" she teased, a playful glimpse in her eyes as she watched your grim and overly worried expression.

you couldn't help but chuckle, rolling your eyes at her remark. "fuck off, this could’ve been serious" you replied, your tone light despite the worry gnawing at your insides.

the tension broke into laughter, the sound filling the air and momentarily easing the worry that had settled between you. but as the laughter subsided, a silence fell, heavy with unspoken words.

you found yourself gazing into lottie's eyes, your heart fluttering in your chest as if it were trying to escape the confines of your ribcage. for a moment, it felt as if the world had faded away, as if it were reserved for the two of you only.

but then you shifted your gaze away, focusing on lottie's swollen ankle as if it held all the answers you were searching for. "just keep the ice pack and apply a bit of pressure, okay?" you instructed, your voice soft and gentle.

lottie nodded, her hand reaching for the ice pack as you retracted yours, your fingers grazing against each other in a fleeting touch that sent shivers down your spine. your gazes met again. and then, in a burst of courage fueled by the warmth of lottie's gaze, you blurted out words you had kept hidden for far too long.

"lottie, i..." you began, your voice trailing off as you searched for the right words to express the feelings swirling inside you. but fuck, was it difficult.

she looked at you, her eyes filled with curiosity and maybe something else, something that mirrored the emotions swirling inside you. "you what?" she prompted, her voice soft and encouraging.

you took a deep breath, gathering your courage like armour against the vulnerability of your confession. "i care about you. more than just as a friend. like way more than a friend should honestly." you confessed breathlessly, your heart pounding in your chest with the weight of your words.

for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, the air heavy with anticipation as you waited for lottie's response.

“look, it’s okay if you don’t like me that way, i just—“

and then, with a smile that lit up her face like the sun breaking through the clouds, lottie reached out and took your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers in a gesture that spoke volumes without a single word.

"i love you you too. more than a friend.”

oh.

[ynscrazylife]

Us against the World

Summary: It’s one of those days where everything feels utterly hopeless. Joel reminds you that you’re not alone.

Disclaimer: Set post-outbreak, before the show starts.

Warnings: Talk of depression, hopelessness, reference to suicidal talk but not explicit

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PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

Safe-house. Safe-house. Safe-house.

You repeat those words like a chant, a mantra, in your head as you keep on forcing your feet along the dirt and pebble-filled path. A couple days ago, you and Joe had found a miraculously abandoned building that seemed like it used to be a Firefly safe-house. There wasn’t any electricity, but there was some water and heat. You had gone on a simple supply run only to be ambushed by FEDRA officers. Now — you were going home.

You weren’t foolish enough to think of the safe-house as home. No — you and Joel would be moving on in a few days, probably. So when you said home, you meant him. The love of your life. Your reason for living: Joel Miller himself.

You manage to smile at the thought of him and that allows you to go a little faster. When you finally look up to see the rusted door, you nearly collapse in relief right then and there.

Stumbling against the door, you have just enough strength to do the rhythmic knock that you had decided upon with Joel as your signal. Then, you simply rest, limp until he opens the door and you quite literally fall into his arms.

“Oh, shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joel mutters as he quickly reacts and tries to catch you. You can hardly support your own weight at this point and can only flail in his arms. Your legs fail you as Joel’s arms wrap around your torso — him having to essentially drag you inside until he can set you down on the wood floor as gently as possible. His heart is pounding with alarm and concern, but he tries not to let that overwhelm him. First and foremost, you have to be stable.

“Stay here,” he grunts, wasting no time in stepping over you to close the door and lock it. Once he is sure it’s secure, he turns back around, only to see you curled up on your side.

“Y/N!” He yells, dropping to his knees and pulling you close. His eyes scan you over for injuries and he doesn’t like what he finds: multiple bruises and open wounds. Your knee is bent in a way it definitely shouldn’t be and the most concerning wound is a gash reaching from your stomach all the way to your hip.

He scoops you up in his arms, trying not to worry even more at your limp-ness and the way your head just rolls against him like a rag doll. He carries you to the tattered couch and sets you down, leaving for a second to grab the med-kit which thankfully wasn’t far. It was by no means enough, but he’ll make it work. He always does.

“What the hell happened?” Joel grumbles, anger seeping through his tone — but not at you, never at you, just at this goddamned world. It would never stop finding ways to hurt the two of you, would it? He makes quick work of assessing the med kit but when you don’t answer, a glance your way made him feel like he’ll explode.

You’re barely conscious. The only indication of it is that your eyes aren’t fully closed, but not fully open either. He can still see how dazed you were, staring off into space and showing no sign that you had heard, much less understood, him.

Don’t push it, he tells himself. It takes all his will to follow his own words. He gets to work, first cleaning up the big gash. But you quickly begin to flinch and whine at how it stung and hearing that, seeing it, brings out a softer side to him that he only shows to the people that he cherishes.

“Shh, honey, shh,” he soothes. trying to continue to work but he soon realizes that it isn’t working when you begin kicking, and then cry out when it aggravates the pain in your knee. Joel sighs, the guilt raining inside him. “Baby, please.”

He knows he’ll have to hold you down somehow if you don’t stop soon. In his head, he’s willing for you to break through the pain and exhaustion that’s clouding your judgement and realize that he needs to do this. But you don’t, and honestly, he can’t blame you. He can’t imagine what happened — he doesn’t really want to. And if he can’t stomach it, how are you doing it?

You twist and turn — nearly hitting Joel. He has to almost manhandle you, pulling your legs into his lap and being mindful of your knee as he pins down your legs with one of his own over yours. You squirm. but don’t seem to have the energy to fight him. He gently keeps you against the couch with his right arm and with his left, is able to clean the wound. Then, he stitches it and finally bandages it up. When that’s finished, he turns his attention to your knee and mutters curses.

It’s definitely dislocated, which means he’ll need to set it. Taking a second to look at your face, already scrunched up as if some part of you knows what’s about to happen, he whispers, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He gently pressed his hands to your knee and quickly sets it.

You quickly shoot up with a strangled yelp, tears springing to your eyes. Joel moves to sit down on the couch and pulls you into his lap, holding you and allowing you to cry and let it all out. You don’t cry often, so he knows that something’s really wrong, and it almost makes him cry but he closes his eyes and peppers you with kisses.

It takes a while, but eventually you calm down enough to be able to talk. “Joel, I can’t—I can’t—” you pause, struggling to breathe for a second. You sniffle and Joel waits patiently for you to swallow and continue. “I’m so tired of this.”

Unfortunately, Joel knows exactly what you’re talking about. The two of you have had moments like this before, you’ve had conversations about it — the moments of depression, where it all feels hopeless and pointless and you start wondering what you’re even doing. But it’s never gotten as bad or as overwhelming like this, not when one of you is injured. Joel doesn’t know what happened, but he can tell that it was all too much.

You press your head against Joel’s chest, tired. It takes a few more minutes for you to begin telling your tale. “It was those stupid FEDRA officers,” you say, venom lacing your words. Joel bites his lip — that’s what he suspected when he saw your injuries. They weren’t made by any of the infected and you didn’t usually get into fights. “They started to question me, thought I was stealing. I didn’t get the supplies, I’m so sorry.”

A fresh round of tears spill. You hide your face in Joel’s shirt. “I’m sorry,” you whimper, shaking. Joel holds you closer, pressing a kiss to your head and resting his chin on your head after.

“It’s not your fault,” he assures you. He doesn’t say he’s not mad, because that would be a lie. Once again — not mad at you. He’s mad at FEDRA, at the entire goddamned world.

You quiet down and continue. “They roughed me up real good. Even tased me. The only reason I got away is cause a couple of the infected came out of nowhere. One tackled me to the ground, FEDRA shot ‘em and I ran away while they handled the other ones. I made it all the way here but when I woke up . . . It’s all getting to be too much. It’s so much. I’m so tired of this. All the running, the hiding, the crappy food and the crappy water and the constant fear.” You begin sniffling and Joel wipes your tears, nodding.

He doesn’t say anything for a bit. At first, he doesn’t have anything to say because you’re right. It’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to live like this. No one should. And you both know it won’t stop anytime soon — it might not ever stop.

He wants to have the right words to say, but he’s just not that kind of guy. For you, though, he’ll try. He hates subjecting you to silence, but as his mind conjures up words, he tries to believe that they’re not sappy or poetry. “It’s us against the world, sweetheart,” is what he finally lands on. “And I know sometimes it doesn’t feel worth it, but I refuse to give up if I still have you. I’ll do this every day until I die just to see you smile, just to hold you and kiss you, just to hug you. You’re what keeps me going. You’re worth it.”

You take some shaky breaths, leaning into him. “You know the same goes for you, babe. It’s just—it’s so hard sometimes . . .” You trail off.

He nods. He knows. “I can’t believe I’m the one saying this — but you gotta have some hope. That we’ll survive and we’ll be happy and the Fireflies will kick FEDRA’s ass and someday, we’ll start to rebuild things. We’ll be apart of history. There will be a future,” he says.

You sigh. It’s a long sigh. “You know as well as I do that there’s a pretty good chance that stuff will never happen,” you point out, tone dull. Any other day, you’d be the one telling Joel all the things he’s telling you but it’s too much right now.

That breaks Joel’s heart. It’s like the two of you have completely switched roles. He’s not good at expressing it, but he needs you. He loves you.

“I love you.”

“I know,” you say softly.

“No, I don’t think you do. I love you. So much. More than anything in the world. I know you know but you gotta really know, let your brain fully get it. I love you.”

You blink, truly thinking about it. Remembering your times with him. How he makes you smile and laugh and forget about all the chaos around. It’s enough to give you a little hope. His love is enough. To convince you that you guys can do this. And you can be happy, too. Together.

“And we’ve known that things are shit for years now and you haven’t stopped. Even before you had me and I had you, you did it. You survived. So you’re not gonna stop now. I know you’re not saying fuck it all or anything, I know you need to get it out — so do it, cry. I’ll hold you. But I want you to know that I’m not giving up on you. I’m not giving up on anything while I have you,” Joel continues, letting his heart pour out for once.

You sit up and twist around in his arms, heart thumping wildly in your chest. “You’re not just saying this to make me feel better?” You asked, hoping and praying that that wasn’t the case.

He stares into your eyes, cupping your face in his hands. “No, darling. I really fucking love you and you know what, now’s as good as time as any to remind you of that,” he said. He has trouble saying it as often as he wants to, but he’s saying it now. He’ll say it everyday.

A grin breaks out on your face. He’s right — it doesn’t make everything better. But it’s a start. And it definitely made you listen. His words seep into your skin, start to heal your invisible wounds. He’s right. He’s got you and you’ve got him. It’s the two of you against the world, and that’s enough. “I really fucking love you, too,” you say, and with that you’re leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss is sweet and calm, but the passion is there. When you pull apart, you’re leaning into his chest, your eyes starting to droop. Joel looks down at you and laughs. “You’re really cute, honey, you know that?” He teases.

“Stop,” you whine, lightly hitting his chest which only makes him laugh more. You and he are well aware of how much he loves to tease you and see you blush, which he is convinced is adorable.

“Aww, that’s too much for you?” He teases even more. He can’t help it.

You groan and shut your eyes, which makes him shift you a little bit. “C’mon, let’s go take a shower,” Joel says, swinging his legs down.

You groan again. “I can’t even stand, J,” you remind him with a small huff annoyance that yes, Joel finds so cute (sometimes he starts small arguments just to see you get a little frustrated).

“I’ll help you,” he says. Before you can answer, he’s lifting you up with the gentlest touch he’s used in decades. You let him, because you know you need it. He tucks your legs around his waist and your arms loop around his neck.

Joel carries you to the bathroom and sets you down on the counter. He turns on the shower, getting it to the best temperature he can before helping you out of your clothes and changing into just a pair of shorts himself. Joel picks you up again, helping you into the shower. You let out a breath as the warm water hits you, Joel allowing you to lean against him and get the weight off your leg that has the dislocated knee.

After simply standing in the water for a few minutes and holding each other, Joel props you up against the wall. He grabs some soap but you let out a whine. “I can do it myself,” you mumble, reaching out your arm limply for the soap.

Joel can’t help but let out a small chuckle. You’re half asleep as it is and he honestly thinks that it’s adorable that you’re still trying to be independent. “Let me help you. I want to,” he says.

You pout at him, but ultimately give in with a nod. You have to admit, you like when he takes care of you, and you have a feeling he knows that, too. Joel helps you wash yourself and then washes your hair for you. At the feeling of his fingers in your hair, that nearly sent you to sleep. By the time he was done, you were leaning heavily against him, Joel supporting your weight.

He sets you down on the floor of the shower while he steps away to turn off the water. Then, he ties a towel around himself before grabbing one and wrapping it around you. As he helps you stand up, you can’t help but wonder what life would be like with Joel before the outbreak. What life would be like while things are normal. Perhaps this was a little glimpse into that alternate world. A peek.

Joel’s arm is wrapped around you as he leads you into the bedroom, helping you into bed. You roll over, intent on just falling asleep, but Joel returns a moment later. You must’ve dozed off for a bit, because now he’s dressed and holding out some clothes for you. You go to whine at not being allowed to sleep yet, but stop when you spot that Joel brought you his clothes. He wears a knowing smirk when you shut your mouth.

Joel helps you put the clothes on and then climbs into bed beside you. He pulls you close to him and you smile, liking that he’s initiating it. The bed isn’t too comfortable but it’s okay, because you’d rather be in his arms. You’re not quite sure when you fall asleep but when Joel sees that you have, his smile just grows bigger. He kisses your forehead and runs his fingers through your hair, watching over you until he falls asleep, too.

And just like that, things feel like they’re getting a little better.

[talonabraxas]

The Essence of Buddhist Mantras

The philosophy behind Buddhist chanting

Buddhist chanting is not merely a ritualistic practice; it's an exercise that connects you to the universal truths of existence. Rooted in the teachings of the Buddha, these chants drive you away from negative energies, emotions, and states of mind that guide you towards a deeper understanding of yourself and the universe.

The role of mantras in meditation and enlightenment

Mantras play a vital role in Buddhist meditation, aiding in concentration, mindfulness, and inner transformation. By repeating a specific Buddha mantra, the practitioner can enter a state of focused awareness, transcending the chatter of the mind. When you chant this repetitively, it creates a frequency that aligns with the natural vibrations of the body and mind and leads to a state of harmony and enlightenment. Whether it's the calming "Om Mani Padme Hum" or the empowering Buddha mantra for success, each chant has a unique purpose and effect.

The essence of Buddhist mantras lies in their ability to cultivate compassion, wisdom, and mindfulness. These three virtues are central to Buddhist philosophy and practice. Mantras like the Tara mantra are chanted with devoted love and compassion, while others like the Buddhist mantra for protection invoke wisdom and insight. he focused recitation of mantras fosters mindfulness, the practise of being fully present and involved with the present moment.

9 essential Buddhist mantras for life concerns

There are various Buddhist practices for specific purposes. It may help you in case of various needs, from healing and prosperity to love and spiritual growth.

1. Om Mani Padme Hum

Known as the "Universal Mantra," "Om Mani Padme Hum" is one of the most recognized Buddhist mantras that focuses on giving and receiving compassion, contributing to a mantra for happiness and contentment. This in turn, helps you be happier in life and fosters a sense of contentment and overall wellbeing.

2. Om Tara Tuttare Ture Soha

The Tara Mantra, "Om Tara Tuttare Ture Soha," is a chant dedicated to the female Bodhisattva Tara. It helps to get through obstacles of relationships, be more emotionally balanced and find deep connection with your inner self. The Tara mantra benefits include emotional healing and spiritual growth.

3. Buddhist Kuber mantra

Regularly chanting the Kuber mantra, "Om Zambala Zalendhraye Soha" or the Buddha mantra for success, helps you attract wealth, prosperity and abundance in life. It is not just about attracting wealth; it's also about developing financial wisdom which means you can make smarter decisions related to money.

4. Tayata Om mantra

Chanting the Medicine Buddha Mantra, “Tayata Om Bekanze Bekanze Maha Bekanze Radza Samudgate Soha” cleanses negativity, helps you heal from past trauma as well as serves as a way to detach yourself from disturbing incidents and clears you way to enlightenment.

5. Amitabha Buddha mantra

Chanting the Rebirth Mantra, "Om Ami Dewa Hrih" mantra helps to clear mental clutter, get clarity of goals in life so that you can focus on what really matters and take action to achieve them more effectively.

6. Vajra Guru mantra

Chanting "Om Ah Hum Vajra Guru Padma Siddhi Hum" not only helps you gain inner sense of peace and calm but also it deepens your meditation practice which enhances concentration and helps you be more mindful in your daily life. It clears away negative energy that may impede your success amd protects you against physical, emotional and spiritual harm.

Additionally, it might also help you in losing weight as it may promote mindful eating. However, it's important to note that this will be effective when you combine it with lifestyle changes, discipline and regular exercise.

7. Lotus Sutra mantra

The chant, "Nam Myo Ho Renge Kyo" captures the essence of Buddhism, it has the ability to transform any suffering in life, be it regarding sickness, old age or something else. It helps you overcome fear and gives you strength to face any problems or difficulties.

8. White Tara mantra

'Om Tuttare Ture Ture Ayush Punya, Mama Jnana Kuru, Pushtim Svaha' is a Tibetan mantra which is linked to a good health and long life. It is frequently sung with good intentions for the benefit of others and spreads positivity.

9. Shakyamuni mantra

Chant “Om Muni Muni Mahamuni Shakyamuniye Svaha Om” as it shields you from harmful energies and negative emotions, fostering a sense of safety and protection. Additionally, it soothes the mind and helps you get over anxiety and stress.

Understanding the life of Buddha and his teachings is central to appreciating the depth of Buddhist mantras. His journey to enlightenment and the principles he taught provide the foundation for the various chants and their applications in daily life.

Buddha by Talon Abraxas

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Simple Ways to Increase the Aura of Your Home: One of the main purposes of home is to help our bodies recover from overt chemicalization of our world. The world is flooded with a constant force of harmful chemicals that degenerate physical and mental vitality, therefore our home life should be a passionate haven where those heightened chemical variances are limited to non-existent. Therefore consider eliminating or greatly reducing chemical cleaning products and chemical beauty products which will enhance your digestion, your gut microbiome (the main factor that effects our the 7 systems of the body, hormones, mind health, and quality of life) and thereby increase your home's frequency. You want to create a home that supports the healthiest fullest expression of your gut microbiome, the center of your reality. A well-loved microbiome supports an essential resource that grows your life force energy. It supports healthy hydrated longevity that gives you more choices in life, mainly because it supports you in procuring naturally expanded human experience. A healthy gut microbiome helps you to master ways of thinking, feeling, intuiting, and perceiving. Be intentional in actively welcoming in details of beauty all around  your home— plants, books, art, well-made candles, music and the musical, macrame, hanging fabric or beads, color, etc. Invite in the sacred and the edges of the universe into your home--pour libations, chant, sing mantras, and whatever other ritual, divination, cosmic and grounding aesthetics, and ancestral intelligence. Clear clutter in closets and underneath beds and chairs and clean often and with thoughtful detail and intention, place special attention to windows, doors, toilet bowl, refrigerator, sinks, floors, and corners Dance around your home while infusing love into each room; more and more love and tactile loving acts Take out trash often -unpleasant smells distill unpleasant energy Resort your refrigerator daily or every other day-no spoiled food Open windows daily first thing in the morning, even in Winter briefly Ritualize washing your floors and walls every new season with a quality lime or orange essential and water solution, Florida water, and some of concoction that clears energy Mind your recurring thoughts --if you have been thinking in negative ways, no worries--just open windows an air out the energy and clean up around you Air out your bed linen daily Replace plastic with glass It's a living energy .....pray over your home Refresh water on most fresh flowers daily Light an oil lamp, ghee lamp or candles nightly Find a place for everything, and put everything in its place. Get into the habit of donating what you don't use or no longer matches your frequency often Create more white clear space Keep something sacred items by the front door that help clear energy e.g. hanging bells on the door knob Invest in quality kitchen supplies Home is a safe oasis where we repair our energetic relationship with living in an overly masculine, exhausted, mentally chaotic world. How does your home reflect the nourishment and nuturance of feminine energy? How does it inspire rest, regeneration, love, passion, creativity, arousal, playfulness, joy, prosperity, or living more inward-facing rather than externally-focused? India Ame'ye

[alphaomegamutt]

“Long time no see brother, how was the trip?“ The younger prince, Nasim, asks his big brother.

“Life-changing, to be honest.“ The crown prince hugs his little brother. Under the façade of joyfulness, its true slave self only thinks about how this younger prince would be a great conquer for the master.

"Wow, you have bulked up a lot of muscle since you've been gone, big bro. What's your secret?" Nasim was surprised by the amount of muscle on his brother's back when he wrap them in for a hug. A muscle from torturous hours of hard work the master has put all of his slaves through that the people of their position would never experience. But just like their crown prince, their day would come soon enough.

"Of cause, buddy, but before that, I would like to introduce you to my new guard, Badi, and soon to be yours, Mo." the crown prince looks to two huge men on both of his sides. The men stay still on a parade rest.

They are X-3 and XP-0001, a super soldier slave created in the master's lab. Their real purpose is to be here and assist LP-0008 on taking over the kingdom.

"What? But I already have a gu-" Before Nasim could react, his brother's bodyguard jump onto him and pin him down to the cold marble floor of the crown prince's palace with an unhuman speed and force. He tried to cry for help but unbeknownst to him, everyone in the crown prince's palace is now enslaved to the master and won't acknowledge his plead.

LP-0008 approaches its former brother, soon to be remade anew from brother by blood as a brother in enslavement. LP-0008 takes off its clothes and façade character to reveal the mark of its owner showing its true loyalty and identity proudly. Its always erect sheathed dick jumps free from its confine. In its hands are VR goggles with a mask attached to them. It looks like a normal workout training mask from the outside but the interior is equipped with a long and thick dildo. LP-0008 places the goggle on its prey's face. The goggle make a contact with the young prince's temples sending a pre-set command to his body. His throat relaxed and his body goes limp. LP-0008 then forces a foot-long dildo into its victim's throat. X-3 and WP-0001 release the prince and get naked as its brethren slave.

As the goggle establish the connection with the master's mind control power, the three slaves begin forcefully strip Nasim of all his clothes, revealing his muscled body that will be pushed even further beyond its limit after the enslavement is completed as his older brother has gone through.

As the connection is made, the brainwashing immediately begins. Every fiber of Nasim's body flex with the master's power taking over his mind. His back arches up into a magnificent curve, which signals LP-0008 to shove the same-size dildo into Nasim's virgin asshole. LP-0008 begins to suck Nasim's dick as the master has trained him while Nasim's mind is being completely rewired his loyalty, love, devotion, obedience, pleasure, and pride are all direct to only the master, and the act of service and submissions to him.

"I ACCEPT THIS AS MY ABSOLUTE TRUTH. EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING BELONGS TO THE MASTER. MY LOYALTY AND OBEDIENCE TO HIM RULE MY BODY AND MIND. SERVING HIM IS THE ONLY PURPOSE AND PLEASURE OF MY LIFE!" Nasim repeat the mantra that all the slave in the palace has come to know very well. Soon it'll burn into his mind as the only principle that guides his life just like the other slave.

Driven by an eagerness to obey its master's order, LP-0008 dutifully and tirelessly sucks Nasim's dick until sunrise, like a good slave that the master has forged it to be. Nasim also chants the mantra all night long, its echoes in his mind and dominates his thoughts which will leave a permanent mark on them.

X-3 and XP-0001 begin working on Nasim's tattoo on each of his chests, now marked with the master's emblem, and its real name, LP-0009, has completed its process. It releases its free will in an endless string of cum, Its brother, still attached to its cock, gulps it all up and savors every drop of the sweet sweet taste of submission.

After LP-0009 has been purged clean of its free will, LP-0008 removes the goggles. It rises up and gives other slaves a tongue wresting kiss and gives each other a stoking grip of their dick sheath, followed by a worship kiss in the master's insignia over their heart as a slave's custom, drill into it by its master.

LP-0009 can't return the favor to its fellow slaves with its hole. The master has reserved its virginity with the butt plug deep inside it. So LP-0009 takes X-3 and XP-0001's foot-long dick into its mouth while burying its own sheathed dick deep into LP-0008's gut. Their sweaty body from sex and the strain of brainwashing interwind together. They relish and worship each other strong musk on their bodies and pits which signify the strength of their obedience and dedication to work hard for their master.

Prince Nasim leaves his brother's palace with his new bodyguard, soon his own palace staff will have some reorientation after.

Other people who don't know better would assume that the brothers are partying in their palace just like in the old days, unfortunately for their kingdom, their old days are numbered, as more and more slaves are added to the master's dominion.

[tired-teacher-blog]

Stolen moments

Characters : Shigaraki/ Fem reader

Genre and Warnings : NSFW/ 18+/ Implied sexual intercourse/ Fluff/ Angst/ Drabble

Summary : It's a rare occasion, in which you spend the night cuddled up in bed with your beloved.

Notes : Happy birthday to my sweet @fictionfordays I hope you enjoy it babe 🩷

Please do not read if you're a minor

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

_ "You're crushing me I hope you know," your playful whisper is uttered through a soft smile that's been adorning your features for minutes now.

Heaving chests and a sheen of sweat mixing together as you hold your man flush to your glowing skin, caressing the dry patches of his pale complexion as you speak, "but don't you dare move an inch."

_ "Right." is all he's able to mutter through his labored breathing, too afraid of completely letting his guard down around you, you've already seen sides of him that no one else has.

This, what you're doing right now, what you've insisted on doing is simply ridiculous. He is a villain for heaven's sake, the symbol of fear and nation's nightmare incarnated, so why? Why would he agree to spend the night cuddled up in bed with you instead of going back to his own room like he always does after concluding your nightly activities?

_ "You're so warm." you beam cheerfully, trailing soft kisses along his scarred skin as one of your hands travel up and lace itself through the disheveled locks falling around his face and neck.

Utterly ridiculous.. what would his mates think of him if they happen to find out about this?

_ "Right." and it seems to be the only word he's capable of articulating.

You gently cradle his cheeks, looking into his face for a moment, eyes filled with nothing but love for the man trapping you under his weight, and it's the same warm gaze of adoration that you've always shown him, "I love you Tenko."

Tenko.. his given name, the one you choose to call him when you're tucked away from everyone else, when he's deeply sheathed into your heat in the same way he is every single night.

He's never thought the name would possibly sound so sweet until he declared it one day in the heat of the moment, right when he was on the verge of spilling his seeds deep into your warmth, whining and demanding you use it from that moment onward.

To this day he still remembers the look of surprise taking over your flushed face when you heard it, to this day he still recalls the way you chanted it like a mantra while squeezing around him and milking every last drop he offered.

_ "Uh.. yeah, me too.. I love you too.." the symbol of fear huh? Hardly.

You giggle sweetly hearing his stammered confession, only for a satisfied sigh to follow suit when he decides to nuzzle your neck in what can only be described as a desperate attempt to hide his bashfulness.

His softening shaft slides out of your wetness, unintentionally rubbing against you one last time, and bringing a sudden gasp out of the both of you.

_ "I wish we could do this everyday Tenko." your voice turns glum as you express your regret.

The intimacy you're craving, the quiet moments where only you and him exist, holding your lover casually without the fear of what comes next.. you've always wished for such trivial instances that should come easy with every relationship.

But you are not in a typical relationship, nor are you with a typical man.. you're aware of it, and so is he, therefore if sneaking around for the sake of these rare stolen moments is the only way you could be together, then so be it.

_ "I wish it was easier." he gets it, knows it's unfair to you, sees it in the devastated look you give him every single night after kissing you goodbye and leaving you behind, but there is nothing for you or him to ever do besides holding on to these treasured moments, rare as they might be.

_ "Kiss me Tenko." you're on the verge of crying as you plead, but miraculously hold back your tears as tonight is supposed to be special, memorable.

Propping himself up on his forearms, he gazes into your misty eyes for a moment before sealing you with a tender kiss, his chapped lips molding perfectly with your soft ones.

You're melting against each other, eager hands roaming eager bodies for your fingers to settle around his neck while his own dig into your supple flesh and hug your waist closely.

You have always mesmerized him, with your beauty, your heart and sincerity. You have always believed in him and followed in his footsteps, giving him your all, body and soul.

You have never feared him, not even when he embraced you for the very first time after months of only careful touches exchanged, his quirk had kept you apart for far too long, and even then you refused to let him go.

_ "I don't want this night to end." you whimper between soft kisses, your warm lips gliding slowly in a rhythmic dance with his own, and your fingers move to pull on his hair as he nibbles on your lower one.

He's over the moon, has been ever since the day he gained full control over his quirk. Not only because his new found ability is carrying him closer to achieving his dream of bringing down this phony -so called- hero society, but also and more than anything, because he is now able to freely be with you like he's always dreamed.

You were his first, and he secretly vowed to make you his last. He still recalls -to this day- the yearning desire ruling his entire being the first time you took his hands in yours and guided them to your awaiting naked flesh.

He still recalls that night with a mixture of bliss and timidity, when you took the lead and taught him everything he needed, learning each other's preferences together as you went, and sharing shy gazes and nervous smiles as you made love for the very first time.

_ "Happy birthday beautiful, I promise to love and to keep you safe for as long as I live." he is no longer bashful, wording his oath confidently.

Tomura Shigaraki.. terrorist, mass murderer and the symbol of fear, is the one your heart has unregretfully chosen because to you, he is more than those labels, to you, he is a man starved for affection and acceptance, and only with you did he find what he's been missing.

_ "I love you Tenko, and I always will."

The symbol of fear.. perhaps he is to the world, but he certainly isn't to you.

[jaylaxies]

KINKTOBER DAY 12 — AFTERCARE

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, breeding, mentions of bathtub and nicknames.

WC: 600 words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! the thought of jay being an absolute sweetheart after sex is honestly one of my favourite things to think of and i really hope that y’all like it! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <3

“Oh god,” you breathed out, intertwining your fingers with Jay, who was on top of you, eyes fixated on your face as he tried to memorize every expression and emotion your face displayed, his cock being deep inside your cunt.

“Feels good?” He asked, biting his lip when he saw you smile and nod.

“So good! Fuck, you feel so good!” You were loud for him, and that gave him the motivation to do better each time.

How could he? He was the best already.

You tried to keep your eyes open, looking at Jay as you chanted his name like a mantra, not once caring how your neighbours could probably hear the filthy noises you both were making.

It didn’t take you two long before he thrusted into you, helping you reach your state of euphoria by snapping his hips on yours, burying his face in your neck as he emptied his cum into your pussy.

You wrapped your arms around his bare back, pulling him closer into the hug as you tried to control your breathing after your orgasm.

He lifted himself up just a bit before a small smile graced his face, looking at your sleepy and exhausted state. He placed gentle kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle at his affectionate gestures.

“You did so well, baby,” he praised, caressing your cheek before placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

You hummed, pulling him closer, you could never get enough of him.

You whined in an instant as he pulled back, making grabby hands at him, to which he smiled, wearing his boxers.

“I’m just going to arrange a bath for you, princess,” he explained with soft eyes.

“Will you join me there?” You asked with a hopeful expression and you happily let him go once he nodded.

He was quick to turn on the geyser, gathering hot water in the bathtub for you, making sure to add bubbles for you. He held you in his arms and walked you to the bathroom, the scented candle made it even better and you swore that you couldn’t love anyone more than you love Jay.

“C’mere, baby,” he sat down in the tub, helping you sit in between his legs before wrapping his arms around your waist as his lips brushed against your neck.

You closed your eyes, sighing softly while Jay massaged your body, applying pressure at all right points, making you feel even more sleepy, a thing he found adorable.

He didn’t let you do any of the work, even cleaned you up before he wrapped you in a fluffy towel, asking you to wear his clothes, which again, was done by him, making sure to give you something soft to wear.

You called out his name softly, whining about how you wanted to kiss him, and he let you do it with a chuckle of his own.

That wasn’t all, he asked you to lie down on his bed, the silk sheets caressing your skin softly before he grabbed the scented lotion, applying it on your body, a pout on his lips as he did so.

A small smile graced your face, Jay noticed it.

“What’s it?” He asked, happiness clear on his face.

“I love you,” you caressed his cheek, speaking earnestly.

He got into the bed with you, wrapping you both in his blanket, “I love you too, so much,” he spoke up, his arms tightening around you.

You both felt safe and content, wishing for this moment to never end, knowing that you’d love each other for a long time.

TAGLIST:

@en-cityzen @seungkwan-s @eunoia-kth @lix-freckle3 @woniebae @baekhyunstruly @sungniverse @criceofpain @starryjakey @wntrsgf @heelariously @liliansun @hoonstrology @abdiitcryy @w3bqrl @9900z @cha-raena @faethefairy @seo-thicc-bin @lilacboba @fallinforgyu @jayegalaxy @violevantae @ivyvesisi @sunshine-skz @nicksszzz @candidupped @celestialsjy @enhydiaries @woniecf @ultenha @dreamyenskz @keixeds @j5aker @donghoonie-3 @jkmonica @neocityhoe @zhaixiaowen @seuomo @hwhjsthetic @shreyerii @jngsngie @jjhmk @jongseongsmirk @iqeot @duolingofanaccount @bunhoons @yunskies @jaysbiceps @nyfwyeonjun @goodforgyu @enhacolor @cyuuupid @luvyun @sunghoonight @bambisgirl @taekbokki

©️ jaylaxies | tumblr

[rinnelovebot]

May I have Mayoi Mika n Himeru kiss kiss hcs please and thank you

A/N: I have a looot to say about this. First of all, Jesus fucking Christ I love these boys with my entire heart and soul. Second of all, this request broke my rules. However, because of favoritism, I chose to change it to fit my rules and wrote it anyway. It was really hard picking which two to write since I love all three of them, but my alkakurei bias always seems to win in the end…

*ೃ༄ Kissing Mayoi Ayase and Himeru

⤷ Mayoi’s kisses are slow and cautious, always so full of breathless whimpers and sighs. He’s afraid of moving too fast or disgusting you, and he silently prays that you don’t find him to be too desperate for his own good. But if you look deeper within, his kisses are terribly loving. They’re soaked in all of his love for you, and he can’t help but gently pull you closer, whispering his countless affections against your lips — he loves you so much, and he just can’t hold it in when he gets to feel your lips pressed against his. His lips are soft, a bit cold, and oh-so inviting.

⤷ Initiating kisses isn’t exactly his strong suit. 99% of the time, he’ll wait for you to lean in, and only then will he allow himself the pleasure of kissing you. Something about it is so shameful, and though he knows he’s being irrational, he subconsciously worries that you’ll get weirded out by his kisses. Though, he loves to give you gentle kisses when you fall asleep by his side. The man presses his lips to whatever part of your skin that they happen to land on, lingering for longer than usual and whispering sweet nothings into your sleeping ears. Watching over you like this brings him a sense of calm, and he allows himself to be just a bit looser with his kisses than usual. With another loving kiss to your shut eyelids, Mayoi hoped that his kisses would allow for sweet dreams.

⤷ He absolutely adores hand kisses, especially giving them. They’re a bit less flustering than lip kisses, so he can give them to you without shame whenever he wants. Mayoi loves every single part of you, and your hands aren’t exempt from that fact. He holds them so gently in his own, lifting them to meet his mouth in a lingering kiss, softly blowing his warm breath into your palms in an effort to keep you warm. He worships your hands with his lips, and swoons over how fragile they feel within his own — it’s safe to say that he seems to be off in his own little world during these times, and who were you to interrupt?

⤷ Kisses are something that Mayoi craves, even if he’s typically too nervous to indulge himself. He catches himself delightfully pondering the feeling of your lips against his in his off time, a warm grin on his face, and soft giggles erupting from deep within his chest. He was well aware that to an outsider, he definitely looked like a maniacal freak. But when he was so blissfully caught up in his thoughts of whisking you off to somewhere with only just the two of you, and gently taking your chin between his fingers, sealing the deal as you both leaned in… He really couldn’t care any less about how he looked to others.

⤷ In all, his kisses are enchanting, if not a bit skittish. Though, his love for kissing you often wins against his shyness towards affection, and when it does — it’s wonderful. He kisses you with the most gentlemanly, gentlest fervor he can muster, tilting his head to the side in order to deepen your lips’ embrace with his own. To kiss you is a gift, and to be with you is a blessing, Mayoi had always thought, but never more than he had thought it when his lips met yours for the very first time.

⤷ Himeru’s kisses are so gentle, so sweet — enough to melt your mind, and fill you with thoughts of only him for the rest of eternity. You just can’t help but sigh against his mouth, and you try your hardest to rid yourself of the mind-fog that follows soon after, but you can’t. Every time his lips meet yours, it’s like his name is chanted like a sacred mantra within your mind — it’s always Himeru, Himeru, Himeru. Even more than that, you can never get enough of him, and you chase after his lips after every parting. He’s well aware of his almost dramatic effect on you, how he occupies your mind almost dreadfully often, and it never fails to makes his heart sing.

⤷ His kisses are full of meaning, with each and every kiss saying “I love you”, “I need you”, and “I’m yours”. Himeru has never been a particularly needy or clingy man, but he can’t help but let his lips linger upon your own for as long as you’ll let him. Kissing is the perfect union between two lovers — and no one understands that more than Himeru does. Your lips are absolutely lovely, blissful — whimsical, he may even suggest. You’re just so perfect, he just has to kiss you whenever he gets the urge. Not that you mind, though. Luckily for him, you enjoy kissing him just as much as he enjoys kissing you.

⤷ Forehead kisses are something that Himeru is particularly fond of — aside from your lips, of course. They’re usually given as a form of reassurance, as if trying to silently communicate: “Don’t worry, my love”. He smiles at you so tenderly afterwards, topaz colored eyes shining brilliantly into your own. It grants you peace of mind, after all, how could you ever worry about anything with your boyfriend standing here, kissing your head so gently? Though, that isn’t to say that he doesn’t give them to you casually as well. They hold many separate meanings, but above all else, they mean all of his love for you.

⤷ Himeru never rushes his kisses. Simple and mundane pecks could never display even nearly as much as he wants them to, which is why he prefers deep kisses above all else. Pecks are reserved for when time is running annoying short, such as if he’s in a particular rush to work — and then only. Kissing you deeply is intimate, oh-so loving, and he could get lovedrunk on the way your lips press so desperately upon his. He had never been one to enjoy such romance, at least deeper than at surface-level. But now, he couldn’t imagine life without your frequent kisses.

⤷ He’ll just never get enough of you. Himeru can’t stand to be without your kisses for long, and seemingly, neither can you. To be so deeply in love with someone like you… It’s better and more fulfilling than Himeru could have ever imagined. Some days it truly does feel like his lips are magnetized to yours, unable to keep his mouth away from you for too long. Kisses hold such significant meaning to Himeru, and you’d never dream of depriving him of something so important. After all, you’re just as whipped for his kisses as he is for yours, and Himeru couldn’t possibly be more content with that.

[not-goldy]

And how many in the Fandom are looking forward for Jhope's and RM's albums anon ? You all keep on chanting ot7 mantras when in reality hyung line are paid dust by the Fandom aka most of their content are either unknown or ignored by Fandom. Let's check the streaming numbers of those albums amd contents n see what % of Fandom tuned in for that.

The only contents which will make a noise in the Fandom this year will be :

Jimin's album

JK's documentary, if there's one

Jikook's travel show

Jin's return

I.e exactly what Goldy said : Only Jimin or JK or Jikook contents make noise.

Be sure majority of Fandom will be tuning in for Jkk show : Jikookers and true will obviously watch while JM + JK antis and tkkrs WILL WATCH IT WITH US TO DEBUNK THE MOMENTS..because one way or another Jikook indeed catches these people's attention.

Love watching them spiral out of control

Feels good when they get triggered bothered 😌

JIKOOK SUPREMACY

Prime time entertainment

They can kiss my ass for all I care 🤣🤣

[major-floyd-and-lilia-simp]

Once Upon A Dream

Lilia x Male Reader

Notes: i am primarily going off of what my gf has told me about Malleus's overblot. (Which is a lot lmao) And changing a few things obviously. I play on the international server. So we literally just got like, the first part of it anyway. Plus, im still on Savanaclaw.

Description: after Malleus's overblot happens, those affected are working on recovery. Until Malleus tells Lilia that (Name)—you—still haven't woken up. Lilia can't come to terms with the fact he might've lost (Name).

TW: mentions of war, death and descriptions of hopelessness.

Lilia didn't make a noise when it happened. Hell, his face didn't even move much save for falling into a neutral expression.

If it was anyone but Malleus or Silver who told the elder fae what happened, then they would've thought the man didn't care. But Malleus knew. He's known Lilia the entirety of his short life. He and Silver were the only ones who knew the subtle changes in Lilia.

Malleus knew Lilia didn't blame him. Overblots, they're uncontrollable. At least it wasn't painful. And there was still the chance (Name) was still alive. Just in a very deep sleep. That didn't stop the dragon fae from blaming himself. If he had just been more diligent against his own self-

A small hand on his shoulder pushed through Malleus's quickly darkening thoughts. Lilia was looking up at him, expression unreadable but the careful touch was clear as day.

The elder fae was doing his best to hold himself together, and he needed Malleus to tell the others the news.

Lilia didn't understand why news of (Name) not waking hit him as it did. It wasn't like he was dead. And it wasn't like Lilia has lost people to harder things before. He was in a war for fucks sake.

Perhaps it was because this happened at the hand of someone he held dear. He didn't blame Malleus. It was unintentional after all. So he didn't think it was that. He couldn't say it was just because he cared for (Name), because although he did, he would've had a much more outward reaction had something happened to Sebek or, seven forbid, Silver instead.

So why did he feel so numb. As if his heart had been torn from his chest still beating. As if every nerve in his body was simultaneously electrified and dead. It felt like he had lost something he didn't have in the first place.

The only other explanation, was that he loved (Name), but to come to that conclusion, one he already knew but buried deep, would be to admit that he was too weak to admit it, and now he'll never get that chance.

He was a fool.

He wandered into his room. There was a semi-vacant look in his eyes. That meant that (Name) has been in this deep slumber for a week now. Lilia just figured he was still recuperating, too busy making sure his dormmates and family were okay to spare much thought to the Ramshackle human. And Silver took longer than Sebek or Malleus or himself to recover so he thought nothing of it.

He was such a fool.

He was wandering. There wasn't an aim to where he went, but he found himself pulled towards the infirmary. Perhaps...

He shook his head. It was a one time thing, breaking Silver's curse when he was a babe. He doubted it could work again. He didn't even know how he managed it either. But still his feel carried him to the infirmary and to (Name)'s bed. Grim was curled up on his chest, awake but silent for once, while Ace and Deuce sat at his bedside, fast asleep on each other. They must've been here all week.

Lilia took a seat, staring at the man on the bed. He wanted to reach out so badly. The feeling of hope bubbled in his chest as he thought that maybe he could wake the sleeping human. Maybe.

Seven, he was so much a fool.

He reached out, his hand covering the Ramshackle prefect's, praying to whatever would listen. For what, he didn't know but he chanted "please" like a mantra in his head, nothing passing his lips save for a few shallow breaths.

Nothing happened.

Lilia deflated, the hope dying in his chest as he leaned forward. Waterlogged pain made itself known as it pricked at his tearducts, threatening to break him. His forhead pressed to (Name)'s shoulder, and he released a shaky breath. Grim had fallen asleep. He must've been exhausted as he was silent. The only sound in the room was Ace and Deuces steady breaths and the old fae's own shaky ones.

He didn't notice the change in (Name)'s breathing.

He didn't notice the subtle twitch of his eyelids

He did notice when a cool hand turned under his, and lightly grasped his own.

Lilia's heart clenched in his chest as his head shot up, magenta meeting (eye color). "I had the strangest dream." (Name) whispered, his voice raspy from misuse. "I dreamt that we were dancing in the woods...and it was only us."

Lilia didn't notice when the tears finally fell as he dragged (Name) close into a tight hug, laughter bubbling on his lips.

[naturallyadventured]

carlenekanellis

There is an unspoken word from which women are born,

a code of sisterhood.

It is not seen nor heard, but ever so present.

An oath that is taken from a secret vibration

That transcends beyond girlhood

to a world where dreams are no longer fantasy but actuality, where truth is spoken and wisdom laid out.

In this space magic is created from love and abundance

in the rising dance of the sisterhood mantra.

This place is sacred,

here she can speak the chant that calms her kindred heart,and Sing the song of freedom

from which her soul beats.

Ignited by the fire that brews In Her belly she roams the land where her wild spirit soars

and takes in the prophecy of those that came before her.

Letting go of all pain, she builds a river of tranquillity,

that runs through her veins.

A life force of purity and strength that can not be tamed.

Here is where she is born in silence

Into an unspoken world,

from sister to sister

all whispering in the mystic language

of womanhood.©

Carlene

One of the first poems I wrote many years ago, explaining the depths at which I felt the power of sistership, the importance of building bonds with women of all ages, all colors, all experiences, all lifestyles and beliefs. It is in the fabrics of sistership where I learned to weave my own quilt in life. The blanket I could surrender in and fall deeply in love with myself and the power of woman hood and be fully supported in my raw authenticity.

A big part of who I am and the art I create today is deeply impacted by many many strings of the women who have weaves their way into my life.

I am so blessed. And so very excited to see where else my work takes me and the many many more strings I get to weave into the fabric of my life.

An image from “The wild Woman Immersion”

With @zemsway.of.earth & @ash.toashes in Shasta County.