#and she's not ashamed of it at all...you know...if it does exist

[eurosleazarchive]

and if i say there's a non-zero chance that there's an adult film out there that sadie was in what would u say

[777rare]

RANDOM ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PT.12

THESE NOTES ARE ONLY A STUDY OF MINE AND HAS/HAS NOT BEEN PROVEN YET, SO IF IT DOES NOT RESONATE WITH YOU, FORGIVE ME AS IT WAS ONLY A STUDY/OBSERVATION OF MINE.

I DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY OR REWORD ANY OF MY FELLOW ASTROLOGY OBSERVERS' POSTS AND I DEMAND THE SAME IN RETURN.

THIS POST HAS 18+ OBSERVATIONS AS WELL, so please be cautious if you choose to read further.

Mars in the 2nd house natives are very very competitive in nature. Anything and everything is a competition to them. 🙉😵‍💫

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Venus in the 3rd house natives are very good at flirting. My friend has this and he really says things that make me blush...and makes me wanna crush his face lol. 🥴😩

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Mercury in the 2nd house natives usually make promises a lot but quite often don't fulfill them or forget about them later on. They are more Talk, less Walk. 😮‍💨👍

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Sun in the 12th house natives are curious about sex and 18+ stuff at a very very young age. By that, I don't always mean losing your virginity at a young age. I mean learning about all this and being curious about it at a very young age, like at the age you are not supposed to be thinking about all this. 🙇‍♀️😶

EXAMPLE: I have this placement too and yes, I was at least 5 years old when I wondered whether people had intercourse (even though I didn't know it was called that, at that time)...yeah, when I found out they actually did, I was like EW and then I was like "DAMN. EW but WOAH" and was even more curious and learnt a lot about everything before I turned 10 years old. I did feel ashamed that I had such curiosities at such a raw age, but I am trying to accepted it through Shadow Work 🤧. NO. I never had "it", don't jump to conclusions people. ✋🙂

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Fire sign Venus natives crave reciprocation in relationships, otherwise they don't want the relationship at all. If they remember the small things about you, they want you to remember the small things about them as well.

If you send them a song, they will send you a song back as a message. You'll know a fire Venus native actually likes you or even Loves you for that matter, if they reciprocate your actions. 🔥🫂

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An Earth Mars woman likes a man who can stand up for her. Not a coward or a man who runs the minute she has problems. An Earth Mars woman craves a man who would protect her when she can't, mainly Capricorn Mars ladies. 💁‍♀️🤺

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In any kind of synastry, be it with a friend, a family member, a lover, an acquaintance, etc, 8th house SATURN overlay will always either:

Cause the Saturn person to intentionally or unintentionally hurt the house person, making their insecurities and fears worser. The house person will love and hold the Saturn person in high regards despite being hurt several times. 😕🤧

The Saturn person and the house person will be the ones calming each others insecurities and fears, being the ones proving them wrong. They will the first person in eachother's lives who prove those insecurities wrong and will prove to eachother that people like both of them exist. 🫂✨

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Saturn in the 5th house natives don't just wanna have flings, random hook-ups and one night stands with anyone. They want down bad serious relationships where they will only have sex with their committed partner. Sure, they will find some chapter attractive, but they won't give it all for just anyone. 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨🤌

Usually these individuals are afraid of not pleasing their partner in bed and not being fun for their partner. These natives are afraid that their partners will get bored of them one day. They also are sort of afraid of physical intimacy because they don't think they look good enough naked and their partner will judge their body. 🥲😮‍💨

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Mercury in 2nd house or Taurus natives are more logical thinking and have a more realistic approach towards life while Mercury in 12th house or Pisces natives are more dreamy and kinda delulu with their approach towards life and also have more emotional thinking.

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I know damn well I have 8th house synastry with someone either when:

I instantly find them hard to look away from and when we catch eye contact, we just keep looking at each other. It's like no name is required, just two strangers talking to each other through their eyes. [BENEFIC OVERLAYS]

When I am annoyed by their presence for no damn reason, like I just hate looking at their face and hearing them talk, and they clearly hate me too from their body language and behavior around me. [MALEFIC OVERLAYS]

Personally, I also know damn well I'm always the house person *emotional damage* 🥲👍.

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In composite chart and synastry chart, I feel like Moon plays a very important role in showing the emotional connection, understanding and reliability between both the individuals. When Moon sits in reciprocation houses (2nd,4rth,6th,8th, or 12th) both the individuals take each other seriously when it comes to emotions.

If the Composite chart has Cancer rising, then the connection revolves around emotional dependency and emotional depth but the connection will be very unsteady and unpredictable.

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6th house synastry (BENEFIC PLACEMENTS) is actually so so fun and beautiful, both the individuals love spending time with each other. The planet person brings a lot of new things to the life of the house person, especially if Uranus is there.

The house person usually shows their affection through Acts of Service, like opening the door for you, letting you take a seat first, helping you carry your bags, helping you learn something, making you cookies, etc.

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Saturn in sexual houses (5th,8th, or 12th), Inner planets in Capricorn or Aquarius, or Saturn's connection with those house lords definitely is an indicator that chains, being tied up, tying up their partner, being put on their knees or putting their partner on their knees, their sexual discipline being tested by their partner or them testing their partners sexual discipline, etc are all part of the natives kinks and desires in bed.

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Moon in Capricorn or Aquarius or 10th/11th house can also have, being tied up, chained and having their discipline tested by their partner be a huge turn on and desire for them, in bed. When I say discipline, I mean them obeying their partner when their partner tells them not to cum to test if they would listen to them, stuff like that.

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Is it me or are all Aquarius Sun or Moon very very slow in responding to texts most of the time? Like personally, I am so tired of answering texts and I spend so much time doing nothing instead of answering them lmao.

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Is anyone else not just a particular zodiac sign by birth but also has both their inner planets, Sun and Moon in their birth Zodiac? Comment down if you do, cuz I am an AQUARIUS Sun and Moon and I am born and AQUARIAN. If you checked my blood with a microscope, you'd find Aquarius written all over hahahaha 😂🙌.

If yes, then you purely behave like that zodiac sign, even if you have a Day chart or Night chart.

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The driest texters possible on planet Earth are Aquarius Saturn or 11th house Saturn. They are the natives who text short or take a long time to text back. Most of the time they read messages but don't respond back. These natives, most of the time, prefer offline conversation over online texting.

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You can't deny this, Moon in 11th house or Aquarius individuals are amazing at sexting. It's in their blood to naturally turn their partner on with just a few flirty texts. These natives like sexting too because they like making their their partner imagine what they would do with them and not do it with them for real lol. Perfect illusion 🤫😂.

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Taurus placements or 2nd house placements (esp. Stellium) love Desert's and chocolate. They love waffles and donuts and stuff like that. These placements love eating food in general and if you judge them for it, they'll eat you too😂🤫 jkjk.

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I've observed that a person with Exalted Mars or developed Mars has a good spice tolerance while Debilitated Mars or underdeveloped Mars has quite a weak spice tolerance. Other Mars placements and signs have an average spice tolerance.

My sister has Mars in Taurus in the 3rd house and she LOVES spicy food, like she wants the level of spice that would make her tounge fall off lol 🔥😭. While one of my friend has underdeveloped Scorpio Mars in 2nd house and he cannot tolerate spice AT ALL.

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Uranus in the 12th house will most definitely cause sleeping issues. Why? Most people say, it's because it's underdeveloped in this house but I think Uranus is a very active planet, a planet that only keeps moving and jumping here and there.

In my head, I see Uranus as this young kindergarten boy who's hyperactive and can't decide what he wants for sure. So when you Uranus sits in the 12th house, a house of mental and subconscious work, a house where planets are deserted and left in the fog, a house where there's more subconscious work than physical, Uranus get's frustrated and suppressed here.

It's like expecting the child to relax and observe instead of jumping so much. Well, Uranus is also a rebel so he will try his level best to go against this house which will affect the native. How? The native will have a very wavering subconscious, always thinking and thinking, about something or the other. Even in the native's sleep, the native is made to see his/her future events, further making the subconscious work even more than it should.

Uranus will disrupt the mental peace and subconscious of the native, making the native constantly analyze every detail of events and dreams in their life. These natives find it hard to rest in their sleep because their astral body is very active and roams everywhere during their sleep causing the native to wake up tired.

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Thankyou for reading through this today, I hope you have a wonderful day ahead. I am forever grateful for all your love and support.

[ferrarifudds]

I Love You So. ✷ Paige Bueckers

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Cheerleader!Gf!reader

Summary: Loving her in secret was starting to hurt, but for Paige, loving you out loud meant saying what she’s never said before.

Word Count: 2.4k

Disclaimer/s: SOME angst, fluff, whole shabang or wtv

Vera’s Voice! THEYRE NATIONAL CHAMPIONNNSSSSS PAIGE MYBSHAYLAAAA 😭😭😭 they deserved that so bad , such a beautiful way to go out. so here , i bestow upon you, a paige imagine Heh… hope u enjoy smirk :3

The hotel room was quiet.

The kind of silence that feels thick, suffocating, like it might collapse on you any second. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your cheer hoodie still on, knees tucked to your chest, staring out the window at the lights of the city below. The glow of the streetlamps flickered like a heartbeat, but it did little to soften the ache in your chest.

You’d been quiet all night. Too quiet. Since the interview.

Since she said it.

“It’s just me and only doing me.”

The words echoed in your mind, repeating like a broken record. Paige’s voice, cool and casual, her eyes bright as ever in front of the camera. The reporter’s question, thrown at her so carelessly, had slipped out without hesitation.

And then it was out there, plastered everywhere.

You understood. You really did.

You’d always known Paige wasn’t publicly out, and you’d never pushed her to make any declarations. You loved her in the quiet moments, the ones where it was just the two of you, when no one was watching, when everything felt safe.

But hearing those words from her, on national TV, made you feel like you didn’t exist. Like you weren’t worth mentioning.

The hurt had settled in quietly, like a stone in your stomach. And it had grown heavier with every passing minute.

Paige had been in and out of the room, checking on her teammates, getting ready for tomorrow, but you could feel the shift.

She could feel it, too. And still, neither of you spoke.

She finally walked over, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion. She hadn’t even bothered to change out of her practice clothes yet, her UConn hoodie and gym shorts still on.

“Hey,” She said softly, her voice holding an edge of concern. “You okay?”

You turned to face her slowly, managing a small smile. “Yeah.”

But she knew you weren’t.

“Come on,” She said, taking a few steps toward you. “What’s going on?”

You shook your head, biting back the frustration that had been building all day. You had tried to push it down, tried to let it slide, but now it was spilling out.

“I saw the interview,” You said, voice quieter than you expected.

Her face dropped instantly.

The slight panic that had been simmering in her eyes from the moment she walked in now took hold.

“Oh,” She said, running a hand through her damp hair. “I figured you’d see it eventually.”

“I wouldn’t care if you said ‘no comment,’ or, skipped the question Paige,” You spoke softly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to go public. I get that. But when you said—” You stopped yourself, exhaling sharply.

She didn’t move.

“But when you said that line—‘just doing me’—” You blinked hard. “That really hurt.”

“I didn’t mean for it to,” She said quickly, “It just came out. It was fast, and I panicked.”

You nodded, but a sigh still left your lips. “You could’ve said literally anything else. You could’ve said, ‘Just focused on the season.’ Something neutral. But you made it sound like you’re completely alone.”

She came to sit on the edge of the other bed, hands clasped together. “I didn’t mean to erase you.”

“But you kind of did.”

The pause that followed was longer than either of you liked.

“I know you‘ve preferred to keep it private,” You started gently. “I’ve respected that. I never wanted to force you into anything different. But Paige… we’ve been together for almost a year.”

“I know.”

“Then why does it still feel like I’m something you’re ashamed of?”

She flinched like the words physically hit her. “I’m not ashamed!” She almost too quickly in defense, nearly offended you’d say something like that, but her face softened.

“And It’s really not a you thing,” She said, voice low. “It’s a me thing.”

You waited.

Paige stared down at her hands for a long time, her knuckles white where she gripped them. Then, quietly:

“If I ever say it.. if I say something like, ‘I’m dating someone,’ or ‘Yes, I’m gay’—Then it… it becomes so real. Like, actually real.”

She paused.

“Not just hints. Not just little rainbow emojis or TikTok reposts. It becomes… something permanent. Something everyone gets to pick apart. And I’ve never said those words out loud. Not once.”

Your heart clenched. You knew that. Deep down, you’d always known it. But hearing it from her mouth—so soft, so small—it made your throat tighten.

“I’m scared,” She whispered. “Of how it changes everything. Of what people will think. What my family will say. I’m not ready to be… that version of myself. Not yet.”

You nodded slowly. “And I’m not trying to take that from you. I’m not. I just… I didn’t think it would hurt this bad.”

“I didn’t think it would either.” She replied.

The silence came back, thicker now.

“I’m not asking you to come out tomorrow,” You added, after a moment. “Or even next week. I just wanted you to see how it’s been aching. Because I’m not some phase you can hide behind closed doors… I’m here—I’m yours. And it’s hard to keep being okay with pretending I’m not.”

Paige swallowed hard. Her eyes were glassy. “I get that. I do. But can you just… let me figure it out in my own time?”

You nodded, but your voice was barely a breath. “Yeah.”

She looked at you then, like she wanted to reach out. Wanted to hold you.

Say something. Fix it.

But she didn’t move. And You didn’t either.

The weight between you had now grown roots.

Paige looked toward the clock, blinking slowly. “We should probably try to get some sleep.”

“Yeah.”

You both got under separate covers. The distance between the two of you had never felt so wide.

She laid there quietly, still, but her breathing told you she was awake.

You were too.

And for a long moment, the two of you just stayed like that.

Silent. Staring at ceilings. Thinking too loudly.

Paige turned once. Then again. You heard her shift, then go still.

There was always a kiss. A soft one before bed.

But tonight, she didn’t ask. And you didn’t offer.

The next morning, your alarm rang too early.

Too sharp, too abrupt.

You didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want to face the weight of what had happened the night before. But when you did, the first thing you noticed was the empty side of the bed.

Paige wasn’t there.

It wasn’t unusual—she was always up before you, preparing herself for a usual game day routine. But this morning, there was a coolness in the air. A hollow quietness.

You laid there for a moment, staring at the space next to you, the sheets cold from her absence. There was no soft rustling of her moving around, no whispered words, no little gesture of affection to start the day.

It felt wrong.

You grabbed your phone, checking the time.

Messages from your cheer squad had already come in, pumping up the team for the day, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about the argument last night. How she’d shut down, how the words had slipped through your lips and the silence had stretched between you both.

It wasn’t just that she hadn’t kissed you good morning—it was the distance. The feeling that something had changed.

Something wasn’t right.

You eventually got ready, throwing on a hoodie over some gym clothes and made your way out, already mentally preparing for the day.

The game. The team. You knew what was expected of you. But the weight of Paige’s absence felt heavier than any game pressure.

By the time you arrived at the arena, the air was thick with energy. The crowd’s anticipation hummed around you, the buzz of excitement surrounding the championship game.

But none of it seemed to sink in.

You barely registered the music, the cheers, the chants. All you could focus on was the court, your eyes searching for the one person who meant everything to you.

Paige was already in her zone, stretching, her focus trained on the game ahead. She was the star of the show, her movements graceful and powerful as she warmed up.

But it was like a wall had been built between the two of you—one that neither of you had fully addressed. She didn’t glance your way. She didn’t offer her usual smile. She didn’t even acknowledge you as you stood along the sidelines, your cheer squad prepping for the game.

You could feel the coldness, the invisible divide, but you didn’t want to confront it yet. You didn’t want to make things worse. So you stayed quiet, trying to push the emotions down, trying to ignore the ache in your chest that kept growing with every second.

The first half was a blur.

UConn was doing well—but, Paige seemed to not be in the right head space.. and it hurt. She was barely executing every move with precision.

And every pass, every shot she made, felt like it was happening in a different world, one where you weren’t standing just a few feet away, trying to hide the hurt in your chest.

You cheered for the team, of course. It was your job, and of course, you were proud. You had to be. But every time you tried to catch Paige’s eye, she was too focused on the game, her eyes not straying from the court for even a moment.

You didn’t expect her to look at you during the game, not really, but you had hoped—maybe today—it would be different. You had hoped that she would feel the weight of the silence between you, that she’d want to reach out, to bridge the gap.

But there was nothing.

The second half carried the same tension. UConn was pulling ahead, and the game was nearing its climax. Paige was doing better.. she was everywhere—on the court, in the thick of it, her movements precise and deadly.

Every move felt like it had been choreographed for her. She was unstoppable, and UConn was on the brink of victory.

But all you could do was watch from the sidelines, feeling more like a spectator than part of the team. You saw Paige driving to the basket, her eyes locked on the hoop, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she glanced up—right at you.

Still, even with the final buzzer approaching, you couldn’t shake the feeling of distance. It wasn’t about the game. UConn was winning, yes, but it was the fact that you and Paige had been so far apart.

You had both been carrying this weight, and it felt heavier than anything else.

But finally, the buzzer rang.

UConn had won. She was a national champion.

The entire arena erupted into chaos—cheers, confetti falling like rain, the energy thick in the air. You stood frozen, caught in a whirlwind of sound and motion, but all you could hear was the thudding of your own heart.

Paige, surrounded by her teammates, was smiling that brilliant, radiant smile, the one that lit up the entire room. She was pulling in every bit of the spotlight, surrounded by reporters and cameras.

You stood on the sidelines with your team, watching her, but something felt wrong.

You were so proud of her—so proud of UConn. But it was like she wasn’t even aware of you there. The space between you felt wider than it ever had, even in the intensity of the game.

For a moment, you thought she might not come to you at all—like the moment, the victory, had completely consumed her.

And you really couldn’t blame her.

You tried not to think about it, to swallow down the hurt, but it was hard. Watching Paige smile for the cameras, a version of her that wasn’t yours, hurt more than you expected.

And then, just as you were starting to lose hope, you locked eyes with her.

And she was coming towards you.

She walked through the crowd, determination in her every step. The cameras flashed, and reporters tried to capture the image of the champion, but Paige didn’t even glance at them.

She only had eyes for you.

She didn’t stop until she was right in front of you. Without warning, she scooped you up into her arms, spinning you around with a wide grin on her face.

“What are you doing?” You managed to ask, laughing a little in surprise, still not sure what was happening.

But before you could say anything more, she cut you off with a kiss.

Her lips were on yours, urgent and fierce. No preamble. No hesitation. Just pure emotion, pure relief that this moment had finally come—finally, she was here with you, in front of everyone, not hiding, not running away.

You kissed her back, your hands gripping her arms as if you never wanted to let go. And when she pulled away, you were both breathing heavily, the world around you buzzing, but all you could feel was her.

She smiled, her eyes softening. “I needed that,” She said quietly.

You let out a shaky breath, your voice almost a whisper. “I needed it too.”

And then, without warning, Paige lifted you, this time pulling you into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around you as she held you close and spun around.

The noise around you faded. There was just you and her. It didn’t matter who was watching. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought.

This was your moment.

“You’ve got me, always,” Paige murmured, holding you so tightly, as if she never wanted to let you go.

And in that moment, with the weight of the world still on her shoulders and the trophy waiting, you knew that you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

With her.

Forever.

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tags! @halfwayhearted @pedriache @wdcbox @janaelalfysblunt

[jaesblogstuff]

The ‘Mistress’, never the ‘Missus’.

He fucked you with his wedding ring still on, and you thanked him like it meant he chose you.

He only shows up late at night. Never a call. Never a warning. Just the sound of your door unlocking with the key he never admitted to taking, the soft click of it swinging shut, and the heavy, dragging footfalls of a man who shouldn’t be here. A man who doesn’t belong to you.

You’re always awake. You pretend you aren’t—lying still in bed, back to the door, listening to him strip the war off his body like it offends him. Jacket, boots, holster. You hear it all. Sometimes, you think you can hear him breathe, like he’s trying to steady something in his chest before he lets himself touch you.

Tonight, he doesn’t hesitate.

“Get up,” he growls.

Your body moves before your brain catches up, like muscle memory, like survival. He drags you up by the wrist, not rough, but not gentle either—like he doesn’t trust himself to ask twice. His mouth is on yours before you can speak. Teeth. Tongue. No softness.

You taste blood. You’re not sure if it’s yours. “Missed you,” you whisper against his lips, just to say something. He freezes. Just for a breath. Like that hurt. Like that mattered.

But then he flips you over like you’re nothing but a body and presses your face into the mattress, shoving your thighs apart with a knee. The sound he makes isn’t human, it’s hunger and guilt and a thousand things he’ll never let himself say. You know how this goes. No prep. No patience. Just the sharp sting of intrusion as he pushes into you, thick and fast and merciless.

It hurts. It always does. You moan anyway.

You clench around him, desperately trying to pull him deeper, trying to feel wanted even if it’s a lie. His breath stutters against your shoulder. His hand wraps around your throat. Not tight, not choking, just possessive. Like he owns you. Like she doesn’t exist. But she does.

You see it every time he pushes your shirt up, every time he grabs your hips, every time he fists the sheets beside your head. The wedding band he still wears on his left hand. Tarnished. Worn. Like a noose around a vow he’s too ashamed to break.

He touches you with it. Fucks you with it.

That gold band catches the light and presses to your skin like a brand, like a punishment. It digs into your jaw when he grips your face. Presses to your hip when he holds you down. Hangs heavy around his neck with his tags when he’s away, like a fucking relic. Like she blessed him before he left and he carries her prayers like penance.

You want to ask, Why not me? But you already know.

“Simon,” you gasp, body arching into him. “Look at me.”

He doesn’t.

He fucks you like you’re a sin. Like he hates what you make him feel. Every thrust is a punishment. For you, for him, for the fact that he keeps coming back. You reach between your legs and rub your clit, desperate for something to hold onto, something that’ll make this feel like love instead of ruin.

“You see her today?” you ask before you can stop yourself. Your voice breaks.

Simon stills.

His cock twitches inside you. For a second, just one, you feel him tremble. Then he pulls out, flips you over, and slams back into you so hard the bed frame cracks against the wall.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk about her,” he snaps.

But he’s angry. Not at you. At himself. You can feel it in the way he starts to lose rhythm, like the shame is eating him alive even as he chases his release. You cradle his face in your palms. He lets you. Eyes closed, jaw clenched.

“Do you think about me?” you ask. “When you’re with her?”

Simon shakes his head, once, twice, and then comes with a broken, strangled groan, spilling into you, hips jerking like it hurts. He stays there, buried deep, not moving. You feel him soften inside you. You wait.

He pulls out without a word. Stands. Finds his shirt. Lights a cigarette with shaking hands.

That’s when you see it again—his hand trembling slightly as he holds the lighter, and that ring, glinting dully under the room’s yellow lamplight. Not hidden. Not even ashamed. Just there.You stare at it. The same way you’d stare at a knife in your chest.

“why do you wear both?”

You mean the band and the chain. The one she gave him. The one that rests next to his dog tags like it belongs there.

You think he might walk out without answering. He’s done it before. But then, so low it could be mistaken for thunder.

“Because I promised her forever.”

You sit up like you’ve been shot.

He says it like it’s an apology. Like it’s a curse. His back stays turned to you, tall and straight, like if he lets himself bend, he might break. The light catches the wedding band again, and it gleams like guilt.

“I would’ve given you forever,” you say, barely louder than a breath. And that’s the moment. That’s the one. The one that cracks something in him. Simon leans forward, presses his hand against the doorframe. Like the weight of you, of this, is too much. His head drops. You watch his shoulders heave once. Then again.

You realize, with a sick kind of clarity, that he’s crying. Silent. Still. Like if he lets the sound out, it’ll never stop. “I know,” he whispers.

That’s all he says. And then he’s gone. The door clicks shut behind him like the end of a dream you never wanted to wake from.

You sit in the bed you let him ruin, his come still inside you, his hands still on your skin like ghosts, and you stare at the space where he stood. You stare until your vision blurs.

Then you curl into yourself, naked and raw, and scream into the pillow he never sleeps on. You pretend the tears on your cheeks are sweat. You pretend the scent on your skin is love.

You pretend a lot of things.

Outside, a car starts. Drives off. Inside, you choke on the truth— You were never his, but you loved him like he was already dead.

[theskywithin]

Birth Chart Breakdown: Lilith in The Signs

They call her the outcast, the untamed, the one who refused to bow. But Lilith was never meant to be a shadow, she was a mirror. To understand Lilith in your sign is to meet the part of you that was silenced. The part that society, family, or even you yourself tried to mold into something softer, smaller, more acceptable. But Lilith does not apologize. She does not shrink. She does not beg to be understood. This is where you have been denied, where you have been feared, where you have learned to reclaim yourself.

Lilith in Aries

They tried to quiet your fire, to tell you that desire must be tamed, that longing is dangerous. They mistook your passion for recklessness, your hunger for destruction. And so you fought, against them, against yourself, trying to prove that your existence was justified. But Lilith in Aries does not ask for permission to burn. She ignites. She consumes. She creates. You were never meant to be anything but unstoppable. Let the world adjust.

Lilith in Taurus

You were taught that desire was indulgence, that pleasure was a sin, that to want too much was to deserve nothing at all. And so you shrank, you swallowed your needs, you convinced yourself that survival was enough. But Lilith in Taurus remembers what it means to revel in being alive. To taste, to touch, to sink deeply into existence. You were not made to wither in hunger. You are meant to devour life.

Lilith in Gemini

They feared your words, your thoughts, your questions that unraveled the stories they wanted you to believe. So they drowned you in noise, mocked your curiosity, told you to speak less and listen more. But Lilith in Gemini was never meant to be silent. She is the echo that will not fade, the voice that bends reality, the mind that refuses to be caged. Do not shrink your words to fit their ears. Let them struggle to keep up.

Lilith in Cancer

They taught you that love meant sacrifice. That to be needed was to be valuable. That to pour yourself out for others was your highest purpose. But Lilith in Cancer remembers the times she was left empty, giving until there was nothing left. Reclaiming her means learning that your needs matter, that your softness is not weakness, and that you deserve to receive as much as you give.

Lilith in Leo

They warned you not to shine too brightly, not to take up too much space. They called confidence arrogance, joy a distraction, self-love a sin. And so you learned to dim your light, to wait for permission to be extraordinary. But Lilith in Leo does not shrink. She is the wildfire that cannot be contained, the golden dawn that refuses the night. You were never meant to be a shadow. Take center stage and let the world burn with your brilliance.

Lilith in Virgo

They made you believe that flawlessness was love, that if you just did everything right, you would be safe. So you polished, corrected, perfected, until you were hollow, a version of yourself they could approve of. But Lilith in Virgo knows that perfection is a cage, that the raw, unfiltered self is where true power lives. You were not born to be flawless. You were born to be real.

Lilith in Libra

They told you that harmony was more important than truth, that being chosen was more important than being yourself. And so you learned to be agreeable, to be pleasing, to shape-shift into whatever made them stay. But Lilith in Libra is not here to be adored, she is here to be free. You do not need their approval. Love yourself enough to stop apologizing for who you are.

Lilith in Scorpio

They told you that your intensity was dangerous, that your depth was too much, that power was something to be ashamed of. And so you buried yourself in shadows, hiding the parts of you that made others tremble. But Lilith in Scorpio does not apologize for being whole. She is destruction and creation, rage and ecstasy, death and rebirth. You were not made to be digestible. Let them choke.

Lilith in Sagittarius

They tried to tame your spirit, to chain your mind, to tell you that wild hearts are reckless. They gave you rules, fences, reasons why freedom was an illusion. But Lilith in Sagittarius laughs in the face of control. She is the untamed road, the question that breaks the world open, the fire that never stops moving. Run. Run until your soul feels limitless again.

Lilith in Capricorn

They told you to earn your worth, to prove yourself again and again, to wait your turn. They made you climb, made you struggle, made you believe that power had to be granted. But Lilith in Capricorn does not kneel. She builds empires with her bare hands. You do not need their permission. Take up space like you were born to rule.

Lilith in Aquarius

They wanted you to conform. To play along. To be what was expected. But Lilith in Aquarius was never meant to be ordinary. She is the storm that rewrites history, the voice that shatters illusions, the mind that refuses to be owned. They will never understand you. Be revolutionary anyway.

Lilith in Pisces

They told you to wake up, to be realistic, to stop feeling so much. They tried to erase your dreams, your softness, your magic. But Lilith in Pisces is the siren song that will not fade, the dream that refuses to die. You were not made for a world without wonder. Keep believing. Keep feeling. Keep dreaming.

🌌 There’s a map inside you. 📖 Learn how to read it, one chapter at a time.

[demonic0angel]

I found this from one of the accs I follow but I just want to know if you can make a small prompt with it :DD

https://www.tumblr.com/cookiesnotd3ad/775458923428904960/could-never-agree-more?source=share

(LMFAO)

Dick's eye had somehow gained a twitch that he could not suppress.

He took a deep breath.

"So you're telling me... that in the time I was gone, Jason got married, Cass somehow gained the favor of a death god, Tim is suddenly polyamorous, and Damian has now adopted ghosts for pets?!?!???"

All of his siblings and not-siblings looked at each other. Then they mumbled some confirmations. Jason was the only one who didn't look ashamed, proudly displaying his gold ring as he said smugly, "Yep."

Tim spoke up then, "I'm not really suddenly polyamorous. Me and Young Justice have been in an open relationship for a few years now."

Nightwing's eye twitched again. Cass took a wary step back from him.

"Does anyone else have something they want to tell me?" He said, his fists clenching tight enough to creak.

One week.

One week!

He had only left Gotham for one week and already, he felt like he was having heart attacks from his siblings' craziness! If this continued, he was pretty sure that his lucious hair was going to go gray!

Why, oh why was he the older sibling?!

Steph raised her hand. "I'm dating the journalist that makes conspiracy theories about us."

Dick stared at her.

"The one who correctly deduced all of our identities except yours because you're not adopted?"

Steph gulped. Then she said, "Well, Jason married the new psychiatrist who works in Arkham!"

"And I'm proud of it, dammit!" Jason cried.

Dick closed his eyes. Then he turned to pluck Damian off of his feet, pulling him close in a hug before he then pointed at the stairs leading away from the Batcave.

"Get out of my sight."

They all wisely scrambled, except Damian, who pouted as he was being used as an emotional support animal.

"Why me?" Dick complained, hugging Damian as he whined. "I didn't do anything! Why do my siblings have to make stupid choices that I have to suffer through? Why do I suddenly have a sister-in-law too?"

Damian made grabby hands at one of the strange, gelatinous creatures on the cave floor and Dick retrieved one for him with a sigh.

As Damian pet the strange, smooth creature, he said, "Well, if it makes you feel better, Cassandra, Drake, and Todd are dating siblings from the same family. And they're all ghost royalty."

And then he added after a moment, "In fact, I believe there is one more from their family who has gained an interest in you after Jason showed him some pictures. Apparently, he used to conquer worlds. He seems to be quite the powerful suitor for your affection, but I shall not approve."

Dick froze in place.

Suddenly, weeks worth of exhaustion, crime fighting, and nuisances upon nuisances, all caused by his beloved bane-of-his-existence family, was broken by the final straw.

"..... Damian, where are my escrima sticks."

"Richard! Cease this! It's a sorry day in hell when I have to be the peaceful one! Richard! Do not grab Todd's guns! Richard!!"

[least-transmcytshowdown]

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

[munsonsmixtapes]

Can I request maybe some older!eddie have sex with a slightly younger reader for the first time?

Reader is like, 25 and feels ashamed she hasn’t had sex before, so she asks Eddie to have sec with her. He thinks it’s going to be a hot and heavy, rough, one night stand thing, but when he finds out it’s her first time, he takes things way slower and tries to make it special.

Maybe Eddie falls in love with reader…?

(Eddie Munson btw :3)

<3

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) mention of alcohol, hurt/comfort, age gap (reader is 25 and Eddie is 40)

The bar is smoky when you enter it and you suddenly feel like you don't belong as you feel like you've overdressed for the place. Everyone is in jeans and t-shirts and you're wearing a little black dress that you've finally gotten the confidence to wear.

You make your way to the bar and set your purse on it as you peruse one of the drink menus in front of you once you're settled in your seat. The bartender approaches you to take your order as the man who's to the left of you is suddenly becomes aware of your existence.

You can see him out of the corner of your eye and your heart does a flip as you see how attractive he is. You take the chance to turn towards him and see that he's already smiling at you. And god, is it a pretty smile. He's pretty. With his messy, curly hair, his leather jacket, his big rings and his black painted nails, he's the kind of guy who you had wet dreams about.

And he's acknowledging your existence, Men didn't usually do that. And if they did, it was to ask you about your friends that they always thought were prettier. That’s a big reason why you’ve sworn off men because what was the point if all they wanted to talk to you about was your friends?

The bartender sets your drink on the bar and you take a sip, Eddie’s eyes not able to move from your lips as they suck up your drink through the straw in your glass. God, what he would do to have those pretty lips wrapped around-

“Another?” The bartender asks and Eddie nods before turning back to you. He’s sure you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and that dress, god, that dress. What he would give to see it on the floor of his hotel room.

He wants to have you splayed out on his bed as he pounds into you, hearing you beg for more as your nails scratch down his back, telling him how you need more, how desperate you are for him.

“I’m Eddie,” he introduces himself to you before he can stop himself. He watches you look around as if he couldn’t possible be speaking to you and he can’t help but laugh at how adorable you are.

“Y/n,” you reply with that pretty smile. Oh yeah, he’s going to love moaning that. And now he can’t help but feel like a creep for thinking these kinds of things about a stranger who had only spoken two words to him and hasn’t even expressed that kind of interest in him. But he can’t help it. You’re just so…pretty.

“Y/n,” he repeats as the bartender sets another drink in front of him. He takes a long swig of his beer as he lets his eyes rake over you. They stop on your legs and god, does he want to bury his head between them and go down on you until he can’t breathe. He wants to lap up every last bit of your slick, sucking on your clit as you grab fistfuls of his hair, holding onto it as you moan his name over and over, making sure to tell him how good of a job he’s doing.

Your cheeks flush as he checks you out and you find yourself wanting him to take you back to his place and have his way with you. You’ve never done that before, had sex, but you’re becoming desperate to get rid of your virginity. You know that there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin at your age, but sometimes you can’t help but feel ashamed every time you watch one your friends take someone home while you go back to your own place alone with nothing but your fingers or vibrator to keep you company.

“What are you drinking?” Eddie asks. It’s a stupid question since he heard you order a piña colada.

“Piña colada,” you answer and Eddie nods. “What about you?”

“Whiskey.” There’s nothing sexual about the word, but the way the stranger says it has your panties feeling damp. It sounds so filthy and now you can’t help but want him to put his mouth all over you while he whispers the filthiest things against your skin. If you had it your way, he’d take you right then and there and you wouldn’t care who watched.

You watch as Eddie sips on his drink, watching you from the lip of the cup, a sensual look in his eyes, the brown color becoming stormy. You now want his lips on yours and it’s all you can think about as he sips from his tumbler.

He finishes off the liquor and sets the glass down onto the bar before turning to you fully, pushing his stool towards yours so that your knees are touching. You can feel the warmth beneath his jeans and now all you want is for him to be on top of you, thrusting in and out so slowly as he utters the sweetest compliments into your ear.

“Do you want a taste?” He asks and all you can do is nod even though you’re confused because the tumbler is empty. You think he’s going to order another one but he motions for you to lean forward, one hand resting on the back of your neck while the other rests on your hip.

His lips capture yours and even though this is not at all what you had in mind, you’re more than happy to return his kiss. It starts out gentle and sweet but quickly becomes hot and rough as his hand moves into your hair, his other one bunching up your dress as his fingers curl into your hip.

“Taste me, baby,” he says and parts his lips as you flick your tongue into his mouth, letting it roam around as you try to get the flavor of the liquor. It tastes a lot better in his mouth than it does in a tumbler, but you think that’s just because of him.

A moan comes up from the back of his throat and Eddie is quick to pull away, thinking that your make out session is getting a little too heated for where you are right now even though he’d be more than happy to take you to the bathroom to have his way with you. He thinks you deserve better than that.

So he hops off his stool and overs you his hand before paying for both of your drinks. He takes you by the hand and leads to you the entrance of the bar before taking you out to the parking lot.

The two of you approach a very nice Porsche and you immediately wonder what Eddie does for a living but don't feel comfortable asking. Eddie opens the door to the backseat and you slide in, feeling a thrill rush through you as it sets in that you're finally going to have sex for the first time.

Eddie follows you and sits next to you, pressing his thigh against yours as his hands move to rest on the back of your neck, his thumbs moving back and forth across your jaw as his lips find yours again, quickly lying you down your back. He grabs hold of your leg and lets his hand slide up your leg, moving further up your dress and as much as you're enjoying it, you feel like you owe him the truth.

"Stop," you say against his lips as you press your hand to his chest. Eddie is quick to sit up, looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Did I go too far? Did I make you uncomfortable?" He asks in a panic and sit up as well, finally deciding to tell him the truth no matter how scared you are to do so.

“No, no, not at all,” you shake your head. “I um, I’ve just never had sex before. I’m-I’m a virgin.”

"Hey," he says softly. "That's okay." Eddie's hands slide up and down your bare thighs as a way to to comfort you and as nice as he is about the whole thing, you still can't seem to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks.

"Oh, hon," he reaches up and wipes your tears away. "I did something wrong didn't I? I-I can take you home if you want, I know this can be overwhelming if you've never done it and I'd never want to force you to do something you don't want to."

"No," you shake your head. "I want to do this."

"Alright, then let's go," he nods his head door behind him.

"Where are we going? Why can't we stay here."

"Sweetheart, you deserve a lot better than to have your first time be in the backseat of my car. So we're gonna go back to my hotel room and I'm gonna make you feel good. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great."

Eddie opens the door to his hotel room and closes it behind him once he's led you inside. You feel so safe with him despite only having met him a couple hours before hand. And he's glad that you feel that way around him. He's also honored that you want him to be your first time and he's going to be so sweet and gentle even though he's really only good at hot and heavy.

He pulls you into his arms and presses his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss as he realizes that he doesn't want to let you go after tonight. He enjoys your company and he doesn't know what he's going to do when you leave in the morning.

"We can stop at any moment," he says as he pulls away, his hands cradling your face so you'll look him in the eye. His eyes are still as soft as ever and you feel like you're going to melt in his arms. "If you're uncomfortable at any moment, you just let me know."

"Okay," you respond and he kisses you again, his hands sliding up to your back, slowly sliding down the zipper before stepping away, letting the dress pool around your feet so that you're only left in your underwear.

Eddie steps back and lets out a whistle as he takes in your body. You feel a little insecure but as soon as you realize that he likes what he sees, you stand up straighter, feeling more confident.

"Wow," is all he's able to say as he pulls you in again, pressing his lips to your as he guides your hands to his belt buckle. You fumble with it but eventually get it before unbuttoning his pants, slowly unzipping them as Eddie pushes the jeans down his legs pulling them off so that he's in his underwear and t-shirt. You don't even remember when he took off his jacket, but it's on the floor.

Your eyes move to the bulge in his pants and your cheeks flush as you realize that you're the one who did that. You're the one who's making him feel that way and you can't get enough of him.

Eddie grabs hold of your hips and guides you to the bed. He helps you under the covers and once his clothes are off, he follows, reaching over you to grab a condom that he puts on. He then hovers over you, his cock against your stomach as he kisses you slowly and gently as if he's trying to savor it, because he is.

He doesn't think he's ever going to be able to do it again so he wants to take advantage of your presence now. Of your lips because god, he can't get enough. They're soft and you taste just as sweet as you are.

Eddie's hands slide underneath you and he slowly but surely unhooks your bra before letting it fall onto the floor to the side of you. Your nipples are rock hard and as much as he wants to get his mouth on them, he knows that now maybe isn't the right time.

He then discards your underwear that you’re both now naked under the covers, bare skin to bare skin. It’s nothing but warm and even if nothing happens tonight, Eddie’s having a great time just being with you.

"D-do you want me to stretch you out or do you want me to just go for it?"

"Do whatever you want, Eddie," you tell him as you close your eyes. "I'm yours." If you were anyone else, he'd have a lot of fun with that, but he's still going to take it slow and gently.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay?" He asks and you nod. "Give me your hands."

You hold them out for him and he takes them, threading your fingers together as he lowers himself on top of you. When was the last time he had even done missionary? It's so vanilla in his mind, but he doesn't want to just throw a crazy position at you especially since this is probably what you've been picturing in your head for years.

Eddie slowly slides in and you wince as the feeling. He knew he should have fingered you first, but what's done is done, he supposes. You open your eyes when he pauses, the look on pain still on your face as he stays there.

"Keep going," you whine. "Please." It hurts, but it also feel so good, something your fingers nor vibrator can replicate.

So Eddie begins to thrust in and out slowly, wanting you to get used to the feeling before he goes any faster, if he is. He’s still unsure about that. Your eyes shut tight and a moan escapes your lips. It’s loud and pretty and Eddie’s sure that he won’t be able to get it out of his head.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he encourages. “Just like that. Be as loud as you want.” He picks up the paces, going a little faster and you moan again, this one somehow louder and prettier. God, how he is ever going to let you sleep with anyone else knows that’s what you sound like?

He doesn’t want you fucking other people. He doesn’t want you moaning their names or them seeing you naked. He wants to keep you all to himself, for him to be the only person he sleeps with for the rest of your life.

He knows you wouldn’t lie about being a virgin, but you’re taking him so well, bucking your hips against his as if you’ve done this a billion times before. You might be awkward about it, unsure of where to put your hand sometimes, but he doesn’t care. You’re doing your best and that’s all he can ask of you.

It hurts pretty bad, but it’s the kind of pain that you enjoy, the kind you don’t want to stop. You’re sure that you’re not going to be able to walk for days afterwards but that’s for the future version of you to figure out.

Right now, you just want to be in the moment. You open your eyes and you almost gasp as you take in the beautiful sight before you. Eddie’s hair is hanging in front of you, his eyes shut tight as he moans as he fucks you gently, his hands still holding yours

He continues to thrust in and out of you at a little faster rate and you feel like you’re on a high as your eyes roll back into your head. You know it hasn’t been long, but you’re already almost there. Eddie just needs to hit just the right-

“Oh my god, Eddie,” you whine as you reach your orgasm, your back arching. He loves the way you moan his name and he can’t get enough of it. Now he absolutely can’t let you go. And he won’t. You’re going to be his forever.

“You did so good,” he praises as he kisses your lips. “So good.”

Once you’ve come down, Eddie pulls out and rushes to the bathroom to get a couple of wash cloths to clean the two of you up. You lie there as he wipes your cunt, smiling up at him dreamily as he closes your legs before climbing back into bed with you.

“Stay the night?” He asks as he pulls you to him as your noses touch, his hands wrapping around your back.

“Well, I’m not exactly in the position to walk, am I?” You slur with a laugh and Eddie mimics you before pressing a kiss to your nose. You rest your head against his chest as his heartbeat lulls you sleep and you’re already thinking about your second time. Maybe if you’re lucky, Eddie will give it you. And knowing him, he definitely will.

[venomvalley]

sevika x gf who is silco's daughter — the two don't have a very good relationship, since he abandoned the reader's mother when she was still pregnant. silco never treated reader as he treats jinx and this makes reader sad & jealous, sevika decides to comfort her (angst/comfort). thanks 🫶

everybody with an estranged father, this one is for you….

The horrible turn your life took was catalyzed by your mother's death. She succumbed to Lung Blight, a direct consequence of the poisonous air she grew up inhaling. Her pain lasted years, and she spent the final months of her life as a bed-ridden shell of herself. You aren't ashamed to admit that her death was a blessing—an end to her suffering, freedom from the cage of your anticipatory grief.

A few days before she passed, though, she told you many secrets. About her past, the difficulties of raising you as a single mother, and the greatest mystery of all: the identity of your father. They both had you when they were kids themselves, freshly eighteen with no resources to raise a baby. The difference? He could run off with no consequences while your mother was left to pick up the pieces. She did what she could. You'd never fault her for that.

Everything began with a letter. A long five pages of heart-pouring anger in word form now that you finally knew where to aim the gun. It took you days of searching before finally finding the right person to deliver it to—the first time you met Sevika. She painted an intimidating figure, tall and scowling when you approached her at the docks.

("You wanna meet Silco? Talk to his Right Hand, woman named Sevika. She visits the docks every Friday to do something or other," the shopkeep had told you, barely acknowledging your presence as he stocked cans behind the counter.)

Upon your skittish approach, she craned her head back and narrowed her eyes. "Can I help you?"

The sound of her voice, steady and low, catapulted you into infatuation from that moment forward. You had blurted out a few words of explanation, handed her the letter, and fled from your own embarrassment. Maybe a subconscious part of you realized that she was your best chance to finally meet the man who abandoned you and give him the verbal lashing of a lifetime.

So when you heard nothing in response—no letter slid beneath your front door, no goon waiting to collect you, no sight of Silco himself—you went back to the docks the very next Friday. Strolled up to Sevika with renewed purpose before giving her a piece of your mind.

("Who does Silco think he is? My mother killed herself to give me a good life after he left us with nothing, and what? He can't even fucking acknowledge that I exist?")

Her response was simple: "He knows you exist. He just doesn't want to see you."

Really, you should have expected that. Almost thirty years with no word from the man who helped create you. Why would your mother's death change his heart? But you didn't want his money or his resources or his prestige. Nothing besides an apology that you would no doubt never receive.

"For what it's worth," she said, eyes softened as she stared down at you, "I don't think it's right."

Thus began your slow-blooming friendship. A bit one-sided from your end, but your persistence paid off, and before too long, she actually began to greet you when you strolled up.

Two months into your arrangement, the unthinkable happened. She stood outside the door of your apartment after your shift at the factory, then pulled you along with a hand around your arm.

"Where are we going?" you asked, still covered in grime and sweat from the day's labor, bag slung over your shoulder.

"You got your wish. Silco wants to meet."

(And you know, to this day, that she had a hand in it.)

For as monstrous as you had built him up inside your head, the man in the flesh was almost… disappointing. Tall and lanky, scarred, well-dressed. His presence devoured all the air in the room, a tangible weight that prickled the back of your neck.

"So. We finally meet." He looked you up and down, eyes lingering on the large grease stain on the front of your shirt. "I read your letter. Quite… moving."

Murderous anger rose at the audacity of this man to sit and judge you for doing what you must to survive, while he sat in his opulent office, dressed in clothes made from the finest fabrics, king of the Undercity.

And your mother hadn't seen a cog of it.

"Go fuck yourself." The words left your mouth before you could stop them.

A metal hand curled over your shoulder, shoved you back a step—Sevika. "Cool it."

"No, I understand your anger." He shifted in his seat, hands clasped before him on the desk. "Perhaps I had been a bit too keen on running you off."

Thus began the budding relationship of an estranged father and daughter.

Not much has changed since then. He sends you gifts, sometimes. A necklace more expensive than a year's worth of your rent, a dozen flowers ordered from one of Piltover's shops, a new shirt to replace the one you had ruined at the factory (the completely wrong size, by the way). But you never wanted the gifts, or the money, or the prestige. You would rather speak to him, get to know him, ask him why he never searched you or your mother out.

You vent to Sevika about it the next time you visit her apartment. A bit of an awkward predicament given their connection, but you don't have anyone else to talk to. Still odd that she knows him better than you do.

"I just don't understand why he doesn't wanna be around me. He buys me stuff, but I don't want stuff, ya know?" You drop your head on her shoulder, stretched out beside her on the couch. "I just wanna sit down and have a damn conversation."

Since that time, you began unofficially seeing each other. Girlfriends-but-not, mainly due to her own insistence that you take things slow. No need to assign labels to your relationship just yet. You don't mind either way.

"He already does that shit with another daughter. Jinx."

She says the name with so much venom that you perk up and turn to look at her. "Who's that?"

"A problem." When you narrow your eyes in confusion, she huffs out a breath through her nose. "His golden child. The kid gets away with murder—literally."

You haven't met Jinx yet, and by the sound of it, you don't really want to. "So, did he adopt her or…?"

"Pretty much."

You heave a sigh, shifting your weight to lay across her lap. "Ya wanna know something?" She hums in assent, ashing her cigarette in the tray sat next to her on the couch. "I've never really been good enough for anybody." She doesn't say anything. Just pets your arm with her metal hand, so you continue. "My mom, she… resented me, I think. She loved me, of course, and she did the best she could, but I was always a reminder of the life she never got to have."

"Shit." A plume of smoke opaques your field of view. "No wonder you hate your old man."

Deep down, though, you crave his approval. His attention. His love. Sevika warns you many times that you're looking in the wrong place, and you believe her, but there's nothing you can do to rewire your brain.

The first time he invites you to his office, Sevika is nowhere to be found. A lone chair sits in front of his desk, and you take a moment to look around. Opulence offset by bits and bobs, papers strewn before his huched-over figure. A pair of long, blue braids hanging from a shadow-bathed rafter give you pause.

He looks up, shoots you a terse smile in assurance. "That's Jinx. She's been itching to meet you, you know."

In a blur, she drops onto his desk, boots a heavy thud atop the wood, and you stumble back with a lung-draining exhale. When she looks up at you, her eyes thin to slits, mouth twisting into a pout.

"Hi," you say, trapped between a rock (the locked door) and a hard place (the girl who looks ready to gouge your eyes out).

Unfortunately, Sevika wasn't lying.

"So you're her." A curious tilt of her head. "I expected… more."

"Yeah, well. I'm used to being a disappointment."

She leaps off the desk in one fluid motion then strolls over to you with hands clasped behind her back. Circles around you with a low hum. "You sure he's your dad? You don't look anything like him."

She continues to circle you, raising the hairs on the back of your neck as you keep her within view. Prey animal instincts. "My mom's side has strong genes."

"And where is this mom of yours?"

"Dead."

She stops at that. Stares at you with a glint in her eye before resuming. "Well, we have one thing in common. Any siblings?"

"No."

"Other family?"

"No." Finally, you whirl around to face her, patience hanging by a thread. "Listen. Can we stop with all the questions?"

Behind his desk, Silco rises to his feet. "Jinx, why don't you work on your… project? I would like to speak with my daughter alone."

She gives you a wide-eyed glare as she passes, steps straight into your path so you have no choice but to move. But you can't be bothered by her attitude. Not when he just called you his daughter for the very first time.

It shouldn't matter. He shouldn't matter to you, not after what he did. And yet, you barely manage to stop the warmth that swells in your chest.

When the door to his office slams shut, you cross the room and take a seat in the chair in front of his desk. "What an interesting girl."

He leans back in his own, lazily waving a hand. "Pay her no mind. She's sensitive."

You've thought for years about what you would say to him if given the chance. But now that you're here, the words stick in your throat. When you swallow, a boulder settles in the pit of your stomach.

Easy to be brave when the subject of your ire isn't sitting right in front of you. When you aren't on their turf, with their goons swarming the place. You're glorified strangers, and you have no idea how he'll react to an outburst.

So you close your eyes, inhale deep, and say, "Why did you leave us?"

He sighs out through his nose, fidgeting with a pen on his desk. "I wasn't ready to be a father. Truly, my plans for the future never aligned with having children."

"Until Jinx?"

His gaze cuts you in two, sharp as a blade. "She was a special case."

Ah, you've hit a nerve. Sevika told the truth, then. He doesn't need you when he has her. Now, here you are, gut curdled with jealousy over some kid that stole what semblance of a relationship you might've had with your birth father.

You rise to your feet, slowly nodding your head as the revelation settles in. "That's all I needed to know."

Sevika finds you later that night in the alley behind your apartment, nursing the final puffs of a cigarette. Heartbroken.

"From what I heard, today didn't go as planned," she says, leaning back against the wall, close enough that her arm brushes yours. A warmth that burrows down to the bone.

"You were right."

She scoffs, a lighthearted tease to the sound. "I always am."

For some reason, her offhanded comment is the thing to make you cry. Not a dramatic sob or a grimacing face, but a dimpled chin and two very watery eyes.

"Why can't I ever be good enough?" You curse the strain in your voice, humiliation burning your cheeks.

A large, familiar hand covers your shoulder, thumb digging into the muscle. "You want my opinion? Don't base your worth on what anybody thinks of you, let alone someone like Silco."

"Sevika, you work for him."

"Exactly. I know him better than anybody." She pulls you against her, jostling your shoulder as she speaks. "So fuck it. Keep getting his money and keep your distance."

That finally makes you laugh, a wet cough from the back of your throat. "I can't believe you're telling me to scam your boss."

"It's called back pay, honey. Getting what you're owed."

She scrubs a hand down your face to wipe away your tears, then searches through her pockets for the metal case housing her pre-rolls.

(How romantic.)

"The guy that owns the noodle shop owes me a favor," she says, words muffled by the filter trapped between her teeth. "Thought a free meal might be nice."

You round on her with an open-mouthed smile, arms curling around her waist. "Are you asking me on a date?"

She blows a puff of heady smoke in your face—the most irritable, sappy, adorable woman you've ever met. How things have changed from your first meeting at the docks to now.

"No. I'm asking you to eat food with me."

Still, the corner of her lips twitch into a sly grin, before she's kissing you rough and wet on the cheek just to see you giggle and squirm away.

Well. Maybe your whole life hasn't turned to shit.

As long as she's in it.

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

liar

Summary : love is not an easy to admit, are you ashamed of it?

Warnings : MDNI 18+ Rockstar!Eddie Munson x FEM!reader, cursing, unprotected sex, self-sabotage, mentions of pregnancy, loss of virginity, slight sprinkle of readers uncertainty in her relationship, insecurity, low self-esteem, miscommunication, heated arguments, that's all! :))

What to Expect : SMUT, ANGST, FLUFF, the story goes back to past and to present, set in the 1980's and let's pretend Paramore existed back then lol

Note To Reader : I haven't made a Eddie fanfic with a Paramore song and I literally love them both, so, this is my chance! 🥰

Author Note : this been sitting in my drafts for way too long now, I have to cook this up and hopefully you will enjoy it! 🥺

☆ EDDIE MUNSON'S MASTERLIST ☆

❣ AGATHA'S MAIN PAGE ❣

1986 : The Record Label approves Corroded Coffin

"Where is she?!?" Eddie heavily breathes as he whipped his head everywhere to catch a glimpse of your figure but none seems to show

"She was here a minute ago- hey, what's going on?!?" Gareth wipes his beading forming sweat on his forehead

"Jeff!" He shouts out loud he did not mean to capturing everyone's attention in the bar

He looked at his panting friend who places his palms over his knees as he heaves air on his chest, confusion is written all over his face as he walks up to him

"Dude, are you okay-" he bend slightly to meet his gaze as he places his hand over his friend's shoulder as he dismissive his hand at him

"Y/N, where is she?" The desperation is clear to his eyes, this night was supposed to be eventful but it didn't worked out the way he thought it would be

"I-I saw her hopped into the taxi with a suitcase" Jeff stammers as he looked over at Eddie's shoulder someone is approaching them

"W-What?!? a suitcase?" He exclaims but before he could ask again, a familiar voice called out to him

"Eddie!"

"Harrington-" He furrowed his brows at him

"She told me to tell you-" he cuts him off, Steve took a deep breath before saying that could scarred his friend forever

"Tell me what?" He demands as he directly looked at him

"She's leaving" ❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦

1990 : Present Day

Fuck

Yeah, seriously fuck

It's been 4 years since the last time you ever laid eyes on him, is it just you or he looked like as if you're in the top of the world

Does he still loved you? until now?

Shit, you feel guilty for what you have done, selfish as it sounds, you save yourself first

But, at what cost? is it worth it?

.....if you could put down your pride, just speak the damn truth....no, it's not worth it

You regretted everything

and now, he's here accidentally bumped into your grocery cart in the dairy aisle at the supermarket

You discreetly put the milk slowly on the cart as you stop eye contacting to him, completely nervous to see him again

"Y/N? is it really you?"

You speak without looking at him, "y-yeah"

He quickly walks up closer to you as he tries to get your gaze back to him, you take a step back slightly as he spoke again, "I asked for this"

That's where you look back at him, "What?"

"I wished and asked that I get the chance to finally see you again"

He saw the guilt flicker in your eyes, you swallowed hard, the beating inside of your chest went fast forward

"It's been 4 years, Y/N, I-I just wanted to know what happened to...." He trails off as he sighs, "To us" he gestures his finger to you and to him

You know he deserves to know

It's your own goddamn fucking pride is what should be shut down

You just look at him and blink as you ignore his question as you move past him along with your cart

"Y/N! what-"

"It's nice seeing you, Eddie"

"But-"

"Goodbye"

You said it without sparing him a glance as he stare at the back of your head as he follows your figure walking away

He took a step forward as he hesitates to tail you, he sighs as he scratches the top of his head trying to understand what made you act this way

He doesn't even recognized you, it's like you changed

It may be 4 fucking years ago but still he is starting to get pissed off

Pissed off at the fact that you are simply trying to avoid him or get away from him as much as possible

He had rewind his memory to every moment that has happened in your relationship together, if he missed out on something that you displeased you

You could've addressed it to him not acting weird like this

He self-reflected but still there is this feeling that you're hiding about something but what is it?

But still, even the heights of this circus series of life events, he remains the same old Eddie, very patient and most of all very selfless

One of the workers at the supermarket asked him to move aside as they tried to place products on the shelves that made him snap out of his train of thoughts

He continues on his errands, once again, he saw you there, already at the check out, he deflated, you didn't react that way before to him like that and it confuses him

What the hell happened?

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1984 : Prom

"Eddie!"

"What?"

You rolled your eyes playfully as he brings you closer to him holding your waist gently

You always loved how unserious he was as he stopped peppering you kisses on your whole face

You both swayed to the slow music playing at the background as he spoke again

"I've never thought that I could attend something like this"

"Yeah?" He raises both of his eyebrows as he uses his freehand to caress your bare shoulder

"To be clear, I don't hate it until I met you, now I am getting to understand why everybody else loves this" you say enunciate your point as you look around in the gymnasium

"I have no plans either, everything changed when I met you too" he says with so much certainty

"Really?" You bring back your gaze to him with hopeful look on your eyes and his heartaches how you sounded so in disbelief

"Are you kidding? you should've been the queen of the night! somebody bribed the damn thing" he dramatically exclaims as he gestures at one of the popular girls who always won every year

You laughed as you push him by the chest as he heartily chuckles

It's true, everyone's eyes are on you, Eddie reassures that you look in fact absolutely mesmerizing, he knows that you're so self-conscious and you're thinking too hard about it

"Y/N, you're so freaking beautiful" he says without a doubt as he cupped both of your cheeks

Your high from your laughter slowly died down abruptly but the smile has never left in your pretty face

You melt within his touch as you close your eyes as you place your hands over on top of him

"I....I love you" he declares it as he happily chuckles, he's so certain of it by the tone of his voice

You open your eyes and the tears starts to prick, "E-Eddie"

He shushes you, "I just wanted you to know that, it's true, sweetheart"

You slowly blink as you try not to shed any tear as he hugs you

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1990 : Present Day

"Y/N, what-" he abruptly stops as he saw your expression

The cold features are sitting rightly on your face as the man stood before you as he dart his eyes back and forth at you and back in the grocery store

He watches as you aggressively put the paper bags at the backseat of the car, he clears his throat, "Who got you so crabby all of the sudden-"

"Get in the fucking car, Steve, I'm not in the mood-" you say to him as he can feel your eyes stabbing him as if he's the one who got you pissed off

"Y/N!"

Steve furrows his eyebrows in confusion as he followed the familiar voice who is jogging on the way to you

"Oh shit"

"You can say that again" you say as you slam the door shut making Steve flinch in the process as he breathes out as places his hands over his hips

"Y/N, please, I just really need to talk to you-"

"Eddie, I seriously have to go now"

"Whatever it is that I've done back then, I am truly sorry!"

Steve looks at him in apologetically as he licks his lips, "Y/N, have a heart-"

"Don't start with me, Steve, get inside of the car!" You hit the hood of the car as you point an angry finger on him making Steve's jaw clench at your stubbornness

"Y/N, we've talked about this" Steve shakes his head as he motions to his old friend

Meanwhile, Eddie is puzzled to almost like sibling argument as he spoke once again, "What is it that you both talked about?"

That's when you both stop bantering at each other as you exasperated sigh as you and Steve share the same knowing look that you're trying to avoid for 4 years

"You can't escape this, Y/N!"

"Goddamn it! just drop it-"

"Give him a fucking chance!" Steve shouts back not giving a care to the people who are overhearing this conversation

Steve had enough of it, he is so done with being considerate with you, you need this confrontation

All he ever does is to be a good friend to you but he can't just fucking tolerate this behavior of yours especially when Eddie has never done anything wrong to you

Eddie didn't know that Steve was eating up a lot of conscience for keeping a very personal and delicate information about you

But, this isn't his problem, this is your life, but also he can't help but to meddle with your stupid decisions

"You gotta stop this, Y/N" Steve scratches his chin as he spoke through gritted teeth

"I am a little lost here-" Eddie shifts his foot sideways as he looks both of you for answers

"Your girlfriend is a fucking coward, that's what" Steve punctuates the word making his point as he exaggerates it

You glare at Steve who doesn't even give a shit about that look that you're giving to him

"Fuck you, Steve"

"See? What the hell are you even doing? You're running away again"

You're not going to be cornered not this time, not ever, you will put the pin back on the grenade, you can't say it out loud now

You fumbled with your keys as you finally get inside of the car

"Get out of the damn car, Y/N, we are not finished here" Steve says at the window of your seat as you stare at him

"Back off!" You yell as you flip him off as you ignite the engine, he surrenders as he looked at you in disappointment

You accidentally stare through Eddie's eyes, swirling in so much longing, longing for you

You almost faltered but you decided against it as you drove away

"This is bullshit, she's going to tell you the truth one way or another" Steve crosses his arms as he watches your car in the distance

"Tell me what?" Eddie appears in front of him with perplexed expression

"What happened back in 1985"

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1985 : Making it Official

Mascara's running down, your lipstick is smeared, your eyes are watery, your hair is a fucking mess as Eddie got you folded into half as he thrusts into you like his life depends on it

Your clothes are scattered everywhere in his room and so does his, he is so sexy, aggressive and gentleman at the same time, the way he handles you, he understands what you needed and your wants, he prioritizes more of your enjoyment and pleasure rather than his

You don't know how absolutely you feel of the way he's treating you like this, you feel so freaking special like it's so uncommon for you and also felt wrong for you to be treated nicely

He always said that you deserve it, you're worth it, you're capable of being loved and you will always will be loved, he's trying to remove that thing out of you

That you're always telling yourself that you're unlovable

He will be the first and last to you, a few guys here and there before him trying to hit on you, it's a big no for you, the only man that can only have access to you is him and it makes you feel a lot of emotions, you feel euphoric but also you felt you're about to cry

One big loud moan escapes your lips as Eddie groans when you don't stop clenching around him

When he kept that same rhythm and motion over and over your moans started to stagger as your mouth hanging out as your eyes roll back as you lift your hips to catch that sensation

He grunts, "Fuck, Y/N" he looks down as he watches his member slipping in and out of your pulsating cunt so smoothly and easily sheaths back and forth as he kisses you hungrily making you squeal and writhe beneath him

He swallows your moans as he pants as he bottoms harder into your core, he lift your wobbly arms as he goes deeper to you as you bring your legs to lock him in place and pull him closer to you

"aah- Eddie!" You croak out as you breathy sigh and whimper, he moans as he says your name and praises you

Your eyes starts to feel heavy as you feel him everywhere, the sinful sounds of both of your bodies slapping and the squelch makes you even more wetter and you can't deny that it's turning you on

"Shit, you feel so good"

"Oh my god! Right there!"

"Yeah? You like that?"

"Don't sto-p p-please!"

He removes the hold from your arms as he lay it over his shoulders as you held him onto your dear life

He grips your hips tighter, you know you can't fucking walk for days or he will absolutely leave marks on there but you don't care, you feel like jelly

His eyes scans over the shades of purple spots are all over your neck and especially on the mounds of your breasts actually before he doves into you, you're already so worked up when he took a mouthful and kneaded your boobs so naturally

You chant his name when you tell him you're getting closer and does he as you arch your back as he lets out a guttural groan as your moans turned into high pitched tone as he sloppily kisses you, he rolls his hips once more spilling his load to your velvety walls

"Can't believe that you're my girlfriend" he says muffled as you can feel his smile at the crook of your neck

You chuckle as you try to reconnect with the earth

Both of you are breathing heavily as he collapsed on top of you as you instantly wrapped your arms around him, embracing him as you inhale his scent making you sigh in content

He gets up abruptly with the fear on his eyes, his eyes goes all over, you missed the way he looked at your stomach worriedly

You're not in the right headspace to find out what's going on as your brain feels like a mashed potatoes

"What's wrong?" You say lazily as you half-lidded awake

"I-uh- we should've used protection today, sweets"

"Oh...." you say as you take his hand in yours as you moved closer to him

The silence is deafening him and the nervousness grows even more bigger

"It's fine, Eddie, I loved how you feel inside of me"

"Y-Yeah?"

"Yes, Eddie, I do very much" you say as you yawn and he can see you're fighting off the sleep but still he needs confirmation that you're alright of what just happened

He blushes as he took a sigh of relief, "I-I am still sorry-" he immediately apologizes but you cut him off by saying

"I don't care, if you didn't pull out, I...love...you"

You left him with that as you fastly drifted to sleep, he is dumbfounded of what you just said to him, it's the first time ever you said that to him and he blinks one or twice he lost count but he just smiles as he admires you as he removes your hair out of the way from your face as he kisses your forehead

He pulls out of the covers as he carefully put blanket over to your body and his as he lift your head so you can lay over his arm as you mindlessly get comfortable from his warmth he smiles yet again when you lay your hand against his chest

"Oh, Y/N, how I love you so"

*Months later on that same year*

You feel nauseous everytime you eat, you didn't tell Eddie about it, but you've been like this for weeks now, you're having thoughts when you shouldn't be worrying about

But somehow, you're monitoring it, and it shows that you have possible signs of..... let's not go there

Eddie is so laser-focused on his music career and he's getting so well on it and you couldn't even more proud of him

A true artist, the attention to detail on every guitar chords that he's strumming and music sheets that are splayed all over his bed everytime you come over to his house, you've been so supportive of him and you always uplift no matter what happens, he works hard and he's saving up for everything that you both needed

He won't stop until he feels 100% satisfied with his work, he's very meticulous and the important of it all is that you're honest when he shows you a sample of his music, if you don't think it's a good record then he will write another set of songs, that's how much he trusts your opinion and it's like you're a part of his band, you watching them grow and help together, they're still act playful and being so goofy every so often when they're together but when it's about their goal? they're locked in with the mission to be recognized as real artists

Not some schmuck desperate rock band as the town would say

Yeah, you're brutally honest when it comes to this

But, what about your feelings?

"Eds, I'm going to take the restroom in a jiffy" you say as you swing your purse over your shoulder

He nods as he squeezes your hand, "You okay, sweetheart?"

You flash in a small smile, "Yeah, I'm fine, I think, I'm just tired is all"

He whispers, "Okay" he goes back canvassing music equipment in a department store

You finally have the restroom to yourself as you clutch in with your purse as you took a deep breath and you take out the oh-so-familiar device that indicates whether you think you are indeed carrying a child or not

You lock yourself in the stall and disinfect the toilet as you sat on it and pull down your underwear as you let your urine take a few drops on the mark

You clean yourself up as you get out of the cubicle and place the device on the neat surface of the sink as you wash your hands

You stare at it, you didn't take your eyes off it as you reach for the paper towel and you know it will appear for a few minutes

You see the one line already as you wait for the other one, you bit your lip as your knees start to bop out of your forming anxiety

The knock on the door startled you, a small gasp fell out from your lips

"Y/N? honey? are you done? I found the one that I like and I need your thoughts about it"

"Uh, yeah, just give me a second!"

You freshen up and keep it cool as you retouch your lipstick, you glance at the device and you did a double look on it

You picked it up as you slowly bring it closer to you for a better look, the second line is faded until it comes out it full color as you stumble slightly in your stance as you look yourself of your reflection in the mirror, it's positive

You're pregnant

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1990 : Present Day

"You're fucking insane"

"Trust the process, man-"

"She can't even just talk to me!"

Eddie mutters "sorry" to the people who are dining in the café

"It won't work" he whisper-shout to his old friend who is stirring his cup of coffee

"It will work" he corrects him as he takes a sip of his coffee

"When you say it, it sounded so easy-" Eddie scratches his head as he grumbles leaning backward at the seat

"You have to do it, Eddie, it's both for your own good" Steve tuts him as he states his point as he raises a finger at him

Eddie listens carefully as he sighs and nods at him to continue

"All you have to do is to corner her, she is strong-headed but I feel you're her weakness, she can't even stand you the moment you both just got reunited after 4 years" He throws his hands up as he scoffs as the scene earlier replays on his mind

"Harrington, I'm sorry-"

"What in the hell are you apologizing for?"

"For bringing you into this mess of mine" Eddie huffs as his eyes wandered around the diner as he watches people coming by

No, actually, it was you who brought up Steve into your goddamn business, but he didn't mind at all but a part of him is also feel like a bad friend for not saying the truth at all to his greatest pal that only to be reunited in this way when he wished it was other way around not like this

He also wants to fix this, it's been long overdue and he been keeping this for 4 years

"Hey, Munson"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever happens to you and Y/N, when you find out what really happened back then, if you did get mad at me, I understand and I deserve that and it's not my place to speak for her, she's the one must tell everything to you not me"

He listens intently as he tips his head slightly, "Well, I appreciate you for being honest"

He smiles then as his eyes lighten up, "Thanks, man"

Steve told him that you mostly walk at the park every Sunday at 8am, he said is the only peace time you have and then go back to your usual schedule

Eddie was sitting over a bench like half an hour until he straightens up seeing you there as you took in the sight of the river

He slowly get up and walks towards to you, he takes in a deep breath before he prays in his mind that this hopefully ends well

"Y/N?"

Your heartbeat stopped at the sound of his voice, you thought you're only imagining it as you slowly turn around to see the man right in front of you as he kept a personal space between the two of you

"What are you doing here?" You say as you look behind and sideways scarily

"I wanted to talk to you-"

"That's not gonna happen" you say plainly as you begin to walk off leaving him behind once again

Steve's right, you're a hard one to hold to stay put in place, "Y/N! you can't even give me a chance to speak!"

"What's there to talk about?!?" You argue as you continue to walk with the scowl on your face

He huffs with a laugh, "You can't get rid me off like this everytime-"

"Oh, yes I can!" You fight back as you stomp faster as he kept up with the pace

"Why are you dodging it?" The frustration on his voice is clear and it fuels you more

"You're fucking infuriating!" You reason with him, god, you can feel you're losing it, your time is out, you can't get away this time

He laughs in disbelief, "Wow? I am infuriating?!? and so are you!" He points to you as he breathes heavily

When you fall silent as he keeps following you, all you do is just briefly glare at him as you both walk past by people

"This is fucking getting out of hand, sweetheart, stop it" he says firmly as he shooks his head sideways

"Don't tell me what to-" you counter

"Stop it, I say!" He commands and before you open your mouth and he beats you to it

He goes right in front of you, blocking your path as you tried to get out of the way

"Look what the fuck what you're doing, scurrying away the moment when things get serious"

The tears began to prickle and sting behind your eyes as you try not to let him hold you, he hesitated everytime he really wanted to touch you, "Don't push me, Eddie-" you scoff

"Nah, I'm gonna push you once and for all, sweetheart, you're not going to win this time" your heart drops when he takes a grip tightly on holding both of your shoulders as you try to get out of his grasp but it won't budge

"Fuck you! Eddie, step away-" you cuss him out of your anger as the tears are threatening to spill anytime soon

"Stop being so difficult and just tell me!" His voice cracks and for a moment your face faltered, he saw it, all you need was a push

"I ain't got nothing to tell you!" One tear escaped from your eyes as you angrily wipe it off

"Oh yeah? What about what happened in 1985? you're not physically okay, I've never asked what's going on but I fucking know for sure something is up"

Your chest tightens when you look at him in the eyes and you can see he is determined to know what happened back there before

"N-No-" you stutter as you can't form any words after that, you have no more reasons to blew him off, you lose

He knew?

"I might be in a tight schedule in that timeline but I never overlooked of what's going with you, sweetheart, you can't fool me" he looks down at you with the same adoring eyes, it feels 1984 all over again and your stomach churns of what's coming

Your lips began to tremble as you look at him, you can't look away now, he's got you

"I know you still love me, Y/N, you're just being in denial"

"N-No, I don't-"

"What are you holding back from?"

You frown at him as the angry tears starts to roll in your cheeks as you hit his chest as he still kept holding you

"You don't remember it but I do, it was only one time you told me and I never stopped believing"

You know exactly what he's talking about

The night that you both made love for the first time

"I fucking hate you-" you cry out as you grab a fist from his shirt as you muffled sob in his chest

"We both know that's not true" he softly says as he pulls back you to look at you

The fire in your eyes has simmered down, only what's left is the fear in your eyes

"Why did you left in 1986?"

The words caught up in your throat as you gulped to his question

No, you can't lie to him anymore

"I-I was scared" another fresh set of tears cascading down as he wipes with his thumb

"Scared of what?!?"

"I was afraid!" You sniffled as you wept in front of him as you angrily ripped off his warm hands to your cupped cheeks

He looks at you as he waits for answer patiently, you try to muster up

"I was afraid of you finding out" you swallow as you duck your head down in shame

Before he asks again, in the corner of his eye, someone is running up to you

"Mommy!" the little girl with arms open wide as the small hands making a grabby action insinuating for you to pick her up

You whipped your head to scrouch down in front of your baby girl as you greet her as you manage to make a small smile as you kissed the crown of her head

Eddie knew his intuition but still he is taken aback from the revelation

You slowly meet his gaze, you thought you will see pure hatred towards you, but there was none

All you can see he is glad as you can see the corners of his lips turned upward to form a contented smile

The little girl is unbeknownst to the man who is looking at her with love on his eyes, she tilts her head as she waves at him, Eddie shyly waves back

"Okay, I'm done with cuddling" you chuckle as you put her down as she ran off playing with the other kids in the park

Eddie's eyes are fixed on his daughter and the giggle of her voice are such a blessing to his ears as he smiles at it

Your breaths are shallow as you can see him moving closer beside you

"She's beautiful"

"Yeah" you whisper

"Beautiful like her mother" he says as he looks at you as his eyes twinkle

The guilt creeps into your eyes as you're the one who takes his hand into yours as you became stunned when he gently squeezes it

"E-Eddie, I am so sorry, I know it's unforgivable for what I've done, I-I'm just so terrified-" you ramble as he dismissive his hand at you

"Of what? if I ever find out that you we're pregnant?"

You nodded and the hope is clear in your eyes, "I was mortified if you ever find out that you will..." you trail off as you shake your head

He lifts your chin up to meet his gaze once again, "I will?"

"In 1986, you brought the news to me that you're accepted in the record label and I tried to tell you so many times but I really couldn't bring it up to you and I didn't wanna be a burden on your dream, so, I just left" you sob as you close your eyes and you feel the weight of your shoulders finally eased out

"Oh honey, you will never be a burden to me" he kisses your hands as you let him embrace you

At that point, he understood what Steve meant to him at the diner last night and it doesn't matter to him anymore

All is forgiven, what's important to him that he's got you and you're back with him

The wait was worth it as he smiles down at you as he caressed your head

You pulled back with uncertainty in your eyes, "Do you hate me?" He knits his eyebrows at you

His eyes softens, "I can never hate you" he tucked a piece of hair into your ear

"Do you hate me?" He brings back the question to you as he pulls you impossibly close as you lock your eyes with his as he looks down at your lips anticipating his next move

"I lied to you, you always knew the truth" he lets you finish as he dives in

He captured your lips as you feel lushed pressing your chest against him as you throw your arms to kiss him back, melting as both your mouth and his collided to one another

"And that is?" He reaches back to peck another kiss to your lips as you smile at him, your heart is soaring as you both glance at your girl as you bring back your eyes to him as you confidently admit....

"I love you"

[puffins-muffins]

Sanctified

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Word Count: 500 Summary: Jax never thought he could be whole again after Tara left, until you. Warnings: 18+ only please, hurt/comfort, emotional healing, Soft!Jax, slow burn vibes A/N: I'm just really deep in my Jax feels 🥺 tonight so here's this. ✨All feedback (reblogs, comments, likes) is much appreciated and encouraged!!✨ Enjoy babes! 🩷

Jax used to think that there were parts of him that would stay broken forever.

Some nights, he’d sit on the old rooftop outside the clubhouse, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers, convinced there wasn’t enough left in him to give to anyone.

Not the good parts, at least - and certainly not the soft ones. Tara had taken those with her when she left him, walking away with all the pieces of the man he was trying to be. What she left behind was the outlaw, the fury, and all the wreckage that came with him.

But then you happened. And somehow, without even trying, you began to gather all those broken edges he thought no one would ever want to touch - all the parts he thought were too sharp to hold.

You didn’t come into his life loudly. You didn’t demand his attention or try to fix him with some kind of silly optimism. You just… existed. Showing up on his worst days without asking for more than what he could give - steady, stubborn, forgiving.  

And even when, especially when, he gave you nothing - you stayed anyway.

Jax didn’t know what to do with that at first. Didn’t know what to do with the way your laughter threaded through the cracks in him, or how the soft graze of your fingers across his skin made him feel like flesh and blood again, instead of something hollow and irreparable - stitched together by guilt and regret. You only looked at him like maybe it didn’t scare you.

You brought color into a world he’d resigned to being nothing but grey and desolate.

Now he watches you sometimes when you don’t know he’s looking. Watches the way you move through a room, the way you talk with your hands - animated and unapologetic, the way your eyes shine when you’re passionate about something. You’ve got this calm inside you, but it’s not soft, it’s wild in its own right.

And fuck if that didn’t break him wide open.

He swore he’d never fall again, swore the club was the only thing left in his life worth bleeding for.

But then you curled into his bed one night, wrapped in one of his favorite flannels - your cheeks tinted pink and warm to the touch from the whiskey you’d both been sipping. You looked at him like he wasn’t something broken, like he was a man who could be loved, still. And for the first time in years, he believed it.

So yeah. Loving you isn’t something Jax chose, it’s just something he does.

And he’ll never say it out loud, not the full weight of it, not yet, but he thinks that maybe you already know. Because when you reach for him - when you brush over old wounds like they’re nothing to be ashamed of, like he’s still something whole despite it all, he swears it feels like maybe there’s still something in him worth saving.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Amanda's line in TOS about how the Vulcan way of life is better than the Human one and the fact that she consented to raising Spock as entirely Vulcan hints towards a very strange and interesting woman that I wish would be portrayed/explored instead of the way I normally see her in adaptations which is...Slightly Sad Perfect Mother Figure. Good Woman. Good Emotions Woman to balance out Sarek. Like, to me, these things (the line and how Spock was raised to be ashamed of his Humanity) paint the picture of Amanda going up to Sarek and being like...in the midst of all these Humans he interacts with daily, so singular and interesting because of her outpouring of appreciation for the Vulcan way of life. And maybe Sarek and her speak about it and he finds himself fascinated by this woman and that mix of mutual interest becomes affection becomes love. And then these two freaks put their heads together at a certain point down the road of their marriage and Sarek says y'know Amanda it's SO cool what we're doing here but I think you've pretty much got this Vulcan thing as down as you're going to. You're a marvel and you leave me in awe every day, with the way you were raised entirely Human I don't think anyone else has achieved what you have. But you know what'd be so fucking sick? Let's see if we can raise a child that's half you and half me, a symbol of our bond and our hopes for the future of mankind (that they conquer their emotions and follow a logical path). Let's see how THAT kid handles it. It's fine to have kids that're half science experiment half symbol of the future, right? That won't fuck them up? And Amanda says YEEESSS I'd fucking LOVE to do that with you Sarek. I love you so much. And you know, Amanda is a rather enigmatic character. Why she does what she does, what she wants, how she feels about Spock and Vulcans - they're largely up to interpretation since the episode she appears in becomes very high stress very quickly and people don't always act in line with how they normally do when under that kind of life-or-death pressure BUT what I think is a point of tragedy in Spock and Amanda's relationship isn't that Spock couldn't be Human enough but that these two people couldn't bond about having emotions yet following the Vulcan path. They both view the Vulcan path as being difficult but worth it to follow. It's the path they both chose for themselves, ultimately. Imagine how much sooner Spock may have been able to accept himself wholly if he'd felt able to confide in his mother about a feeling she probably would have understood completely in a way Sarek couldn't - being Human yet alien yet Vulcan. Amanda chose to live with Sarek on Vulcan. Did she feel at home with Humans? Does she feel at home with Vulcans? Or does she exist in the same liminal space her son does? Not Human enough, not Vulcan enough. It's so interesting that Amanda Grayson is a Human being, a Human woman (which would've been especially noteworthy in the TOS' gender politics era) who can be interpreted as having in essence consciously forsaken her Humanity and encouraged her son to do the same. To what end? Was that for love or was it something she'd done before meeting Sarek? Was it lonely? When Spock allows himself to smile very slightly at something, does he look in the mirror and remember his mother's face? Maybe he does and maybe at first he's ashamed. But then he's an old man and it only brings him peace, a tether to a woman he could never really connect to in life.

[vicorices]

OLDER RICH DIVORCED ELLIE AND STRIPPER READER BUT ELLIE WANTS READER TO BE HER SUGAR BABY INSTEAD BECAUSE SHES GETTING POSSESSIVE OF YOU AFTER COMING TO THE CLUB MORE OFTEN AND YOU MAKE HER BEG YOU TO SAY YES TO BEING HER SUGAR BABY WHILE GIVING HER A LAP DANCE I HAVE SUCH A VISION IM ENTRUSTING IT WITH YOU | -🐛 (caterpillar anon)

. ݁₊⊹.�� 976—CUFFED.

cw # 18+ mdni, even when it does not have smut — dry humping exists and ellie wants to fuck, stripper!reader + divorced!ellie getting all hot and bothered, not possessive ellie but she's really foldedddd, dirty talk, contains metaphors to addiction and vices. i'm sorry mutuals, i'm not usually like this but made this everything sean baker’s was dreaming of when he wrote anora with his dick.

as a note to my pillar nonnie, i was going to keep going with the cam!girl missdeath series but i cannot stop thinking about this,,, you planted a seed to the point i need to pause everything else in my life, i made some changes for the plot bb yk clit did the writing overall. really hope we share the same braincell and i made justice of your horny and amazing brain, thanks for the req!

boycott tlou // fic directory // reqs? // wc: 1.6k // thinking ab divorced!ellie (side b)

things would be different if you weren't blatantly pressing your ass against ellie's belt, cause those feelings she exhaustingly told herself not to have? — she suffering from all of them.

it may have to be with the outfit or the lack of it, the way your long, pointed nails scratch over her naked arms. but it's the perfect combination to make all this façade of having her life already sorted out fall apart to the ground when she recently signed up her divorce papers and she's there, getting a lap dance from this girl she really, really fucking likes, as if she wasn't slipping dollar bills beneath the thin strip of your underwear.

so she's been in a similar situation before, promising herself she wont ever step a fucking toe back in the club — she's not that kind of person anyway, the kind that salivates over strippers. the club's packed with men, and being the only girl there it's almost shameful as she has this need to go on and ask for a lap dance from you cause yeah she's greedy, greedy, spoiled, ravenous: she has turned into a junkie trying to get more of their vices.

and in the secluded room, ellie forgets about previous inhibitions cause you're leaning against her, dancing along the sound of the music already sitting in her lap and her mind bubbles around this stupid rule, the one that forbids her to touch you under any sense of the word if she wants to keep her hands attached to her arms, but she's temped, tempted even when the security camera is pointing right in front of you two.

"yeah? that's what you'd like huh?" the sound of your voice is almost normal, a huge contrast when ellie's feeling like drowning, when the bass on the speaker’s so low it resonates in her damn heart, pouring all over her like ocean waves in the sand "want me to be your little spoiled slut? you'd buy me expensive gifts and get me out of this hellhole?"

ellie's glasses rest on the lower part of her nose, almost slipping as she looks up to you, cheeks blushed cause she's hella ashamed of it, hellhole. when she's in the club you almost rejoice in bliss happiness cause she has money, a pretty face, nice hands and more important — she's not a pervert guy.

there's a huge difference between a perverted guy and a perverted girl in your brain — cause while 50-years-old trying to hit on you disgust you, she's in her 30's and in the best fucking moment of her life and you’re struggling to not ask her to touch you.

"i- fuck. i really don't know why i'm here" ellie admitted the first time after seeing your pole routine of a much shorter version of bauhaus's 'bela lugosi's death', conflicted as you're pushed to talk to her because of your boss: business, it's fucking business "don't know how this works."

"you should ask me for a private dance," you reply, of course you want to dance for her, feel her closer and she won’t say no, no when your index finger trail down her collarbone "maybe you can start finding out by that."

there's something insanely hot about the idea of taking a woman so put together completely apart. ellie knows that, you do. so when she comes back again two nights after, and every-single-time after that, she makes sure to ask for you, name loud and clear in her lips as she enters and you know, just know it's going to be a good night — please, fucking pay for me the rest of the night.

wrong. sets back feminism at least 30 years, but ellie's there anyway, seated like she is during various times the week, letting you take control of her cause it's just what she needs, comfortably seated on a velvet couch with you on top; it seems like the cure to all her ruins — how is she not going to be infatuated with you? how is she not going to suffer from withdrawal when she don't see you for days?

"you know i can," she replies, and your skin shivers against the serious tone in her voice, almost recovered from her sore throat as she takes a sip from the heavy glass of neat whiskey in the table next to the seat "i can afford your lifestyle if that's what you're asking. let me take care of you."

she don't know what's so funny, what entertains you so much as you giggle on top of her, but ellie's distracted as she stares at the tiny underwear you're wearing, the friction between you and her as her fingers ache to reach and touch you, make the triangle on your ass to the damn side.

the sound of your laugh catches her off-guard, and she don’t think when her hand gently pushes you down, making you rest your weight against her legs and let yourself rub your thin underwear in her jeans: sin feels good when you do it right cause shit if it's not the best thing in the world when you're taking her hands in between yours, polished and soft, they guide ellie into your sides, allowing her to trail down your body before giving a sly look to the camera, almost afraid you're going to be caught.

leaving her hands in your thighs seems an invitation cause your movements get slower. fuck the song, if someone's looking, let the lucky bastard live enough to see ellie's hand rub circles in the skin of your inner leg, close to the little outfit you're pulling and barely manages to cover your cunt.

your back presses against her chest, resting against her frame as you move your hips in slow circles, making ellie feel the scent of your perfume in her nose, the way it lingers in the air surrounding the private room.

"ask me again," you whisper, and her gaze lingers in the front part of your body as you lay on top of her: the curves on your skin, the silver and glittery fabric that cover your tits — nipples hard beneath as she has the damn need to use her right hand to do something much better than just sweetly touching your fucking leg "i'll be your good new wife, let you whine about your important job, fuck the stress out of you, all domestic and shit."

it's the way you say it, how you move on top of her, the sparkles splattered in your skin that makes you seem almost ethereal, however it makes ellie moan as she's nodding already on an invisible leash you tied around her neck from the very first time she came, intoxicating, her right hand moves from your leg to your hip, back to your navel and up to your very ribs.

"they are going to see that," you said, the camera always a fucking reminder of her ripping need to have a bit of decency, self-control as ellie's cheeks turn red — "you cannot touch me, love."

"to be fair at this point club 976's alive thanks to me" draining her money cent by fucking cent, she’s sure she keeps the place rolling during the week "so let them be pissed, m'snatching their best worker and takin' her away from this dump anyway."

it must be evil, should be if it isn't, cause just like you landed on her lap you're swiftly turning to face her as you dance, dragging your nails across her chest as from this angle, she becomes aware of your barely covered pussy that grinds against her legs; yeah, she has a much better view of your fingers slipping beneath her belt, of you basking in bliss almost unaware of how stupid ellie’s left when you're around.

"you really mean that?" you ask almost like it's a secret, and she’s smashed with this need of pulling you into a kiss, get lost in the threads of your hair “don’t fuck with me ellie.”

"i'll pay for your nails," her words are warm, her breathing now heavier as her fingers toy with the hem of your underwear: one little tug and it will surely let ellie see your soaked folds, sure you're wet when she see's the splotch in your underwear, the darker hue right between your legs "your clothes, fuck. i'll take you to fancy restaurants anything you want, just- just say you let me."

she can’t pay for interest, that reaction you got when moving on top of her, that almost silent moan you make as you dancing or grinding to seek for more friction? fuck, ellie really don’t know it at this point.

“that’s enough for fifteen minutes,” she’s not aware also of the other people in the room until you’re standing up and she’s going to whine about the lack of guards until screaming at the guard that’s yanking ellie outside the club — “respect the girls or don’t fucking show up here, got it?”

“outside,” she manages to says to you as she’s being pulled “i’ll wait for you outside!”

the biggest surprise of the night though? she was serious, dead fucking serious; so when you’re leaving the club at almost five in the morning, she’s smoking there, back against her black mercedes as she tilts her head satisfied you’re looking out for her.

yes, ellie williams’s leash is tied to this pretty stripper she has in her sheets, spreaded over her kitchen island, under the cascading water of her shower, wearing her shirt, eating her food, taking her life — hand-cuffed.

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

REQUIEM.

PAIRING — captain hook!bucky barnes x fairy f!reader

CONTENTS — one-shot; alternate universe—neverland; inspired by peter pan; fluff; angst; past character deaths.

SUMMARY — A fairy without her wings and a captain without his crew—two misfits manage to find each other in the cruel dark world that is Neverland.

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

✩ masterlist ✩ library blog

The forest is a cold and desolate place at night. During the day, when the sun is shining, Neverland is breathtaking. But that’s part of the trap, you see. 

And once you fall in, you can never leave. 

Peter Pan would never allow it. 

The boy who never grows up floats in the inky sky above you, unmoved by the fact that you’re alone in the forest this late at night, having been cast aside by your own kind. You would almost find him beautiful, flying amongst the stars, a trail of fairy dust trickling behind him, if you didn’t know him for who he really was. 

The only thing that saves you from his sinister motives is, despite your lack of wings, you are still a fairy. Tinker Bell made a pact with him all those centuries ago; she will help him take as many lost children as he wants—but her family, her species, is forever off limits. 

A part of you believes Pan really does love Tink in his own sick and twisted way. It’s why he’s kept his promise thus far, even as his glowing eyes find you on the forest floor. You think you see a flash of sympathy in Tink’s eyes as they fly overhead, and shame, red hot and suffocating, spreads through your veins like wildfire. 

You curl up into a ball in the grass, as small as you can, hoping it will provide some relief from the chill. Despite the painful memories, you remember home. It is never cold in the kingdom of fairies, only ever full of sunshine and blooming flowers. 

As is the norm with your kind, you were supposed to come of age at twenty years old, sprouting wings, finding a mate, and finally taking flight. Instead, you watched year after year as the people you thought were your friends left you behind, their colourful wings sparkling in the golden sunlight. 

You reached twenty-five and your wings are still nowhere to be seen. The taunting soon began; there hadn’t been a wingless fairy in existence in millennia. The children called you a freak, the adults shook their heads in shame. Some of them pitied you, most were disgusted by you. You turned to your parents, hoping they would still love you despite your differences.

You had been wrong.

Your mother, at the very least, tried not to let it show that she was ashamed of you. But perhaps that was worse, knowing that she was trying to love you in spite of it all but couldn’t quite manage it.

Late in the night, you decided to leave the only place you had ever known and loved. You took nothing with you.

Perhaps you would die in the forest, surrounded by plants and flowers, underneath the winking stars. You close your eyes, still shivering, thinking that perhaps it wasn’t the worst way to go.

There are fates so much worse, as you would soon discover.

He had woken you up maybe minutes, maybe hours, after you had fallen asleep. When you opened your eyes, it was still dark. By all logic, you shouldn’t have been able to see his cerulean gaze against the navy blue sky, but there he was.

A human loomed over you, unsmiling and silent. He crouched in the grass next to you, sending you scrambling away as fast as you could. It only took him two strides to reach you again, his palm open and faced up on the dirt right next to you.

When you didn’t move, he gingerly picked you up with two fingers, lifting you all the way to his face as you twisted and struggled. Your tiny little fists did absolutely nothing, no matter how hard you threw them against his skin.

With a yelp, you were unceremoniously tossed into the air before he caught you in his open palm. You couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped you.

Warmth. He was so warm.

You curled up on the rough calloused skin of his hand, unable to fight the lull of sleep until you woke up again in the morning. This time, you were aboard a ship, bobbing slightly with the gentle waves of the ocean.

The stranger had placed you upon a wooden table in what looked like the captain’s quarters, a handkerchief draped over you as a makeshift blanket. You could see him standing outside the doorway on the quarter deck, telescope stretched out in front of one eye, as he searched over the horizon.

It was only in the morning light that you realized he only had one good arm, that you realized who he was.

In the stories, they called him Captain Hook.

You had heard of him in tales of a villainous pirate that had reached your kingdom long ago. He was said to be cruel, even sadistic; you never thought you would ever meet him, or that he would take you in.

For the first few weeks, he downright refuses to speak to you. But the rules of decorum no longer apply here; after all, he is a pirate and you are no longer amongst the fairies. Unrelenting, you pester him with questions.

Why would he save you if he doesn’t want to be friends? You didn’t have any friends back at home… well, not anymore. You would like to know what true friendship looks like before you die.

How come he leaves the candle lit all night for you, even though it disturbs his sleep? Some nights, after some considerable effort, you blew out the flame just to see what would happen. He would calm, his tossing and turning would cease, as if he were more comfortable in the darkness. Hidden. Obscured. Safe.

Where was everyone else? Is a captain really a captain if he has no crew? There are signs that people have lived here. Markings on the walls, drawings on old bits of parchment hidden haphazardly between the pages of a book, clothes that are either too small or too large or too feminine for him, a hairbrush with long strands of red hair tangled in the bristles.

Unable to fly, you could not venture far from the captain’s cabin. That is, unless you grabbed onto his sleeve as he passed by. He tutted at you in disapproval once he felt your weight on his shoulder, but he silently allowed you to sit there for as long as you liked.

Sometimes you would sing to yourself, old songs your mother used to sing that used to bring you comfort. Sometimes you watched the sun set over the horizon. But today, you played with the chain of a necklace that rested around his neck, hidden underneath the collar of his loose-fitting shirt, tugging at it out of curiosity.

The shift in movement revealed a set of tags with names on them. Steve, Sam, Sharon, Joaquin, Tony, Natasha… but was is the last one that has you reeling in shock, dropping the chain as if it burned your palms.

Peter.

Peter? 

Peter Pan?

The nameless captain reached up to grab you off his shoulder and marched back to his cabin to practically toss you down onto the wooden table. You tumbled out of his grasp, surprised and breathless at his sudden harsh treatment. Your heart plummeted to your stomach when he took out a glass jar and placed it upside down on top of you, rendering you trapped.

You cried for hours until he finally set you free, something akin to shame and guilt in his eyes.

When you didn’t forgive him for days, because he hadn’t even so much as asked for your forgiveness, he took you out of the ship for the first time, out onto the beach where the ship was docked. He placed you gently onto the warm sand, and your anger was washed away with each lick of the waves. You rolled around in the sand, shrieking with laughter as you ran and frolicked, squealed with glee as the water lapped at your feet.

You had never been to the ocean before, you told him. Again, he didn’t speak as he picked up a pretty pink shell and handed it to you. You held it above your head on shaky arms in what you hoped was a display of strength, and you swore you saw the smallest hints of a smile in his chiseled features. You ran around with it held above you, waving it back and forth and relishing at how the air suddenly cooled when you were underneath it.

When he finally took you back to the ship after you grew tired, you insisted he bring the shell with you. You laid down next to it, smiling at the way it sparkled and shone, at how you could still hear the sounds of the ocean as you fell asleep beside it.

You finally found the courage to ask one day. Why did Peter Pan hate him so much, enough to spread such wicked lies about him? He still didn’t answer you, but he didn’t get angry this time. Instead, he looked at you with such sad eyes, you decided not to ask anymore.

His pain was now your own. You lay your head on the fingers of his flesh hand as he grasped the railing, closing your eyes when you felt his knuckle-white grip loosen.

How did he lose his arm? Another touchy subject, but you’d always been a curious little bird. He didn’t seem to mind your questions anymore, but he still did not answer.

It was alright, you told yourself. You’d speak for the both of you. He moved to take his false arm, the one with a hook for a hand, away from you. But you leapt onto it, wrapping your arms around it as best as you can. Your arms didn’t even reach halfway around him, but he gazed down at you in what you believed was shock. You fell asleep there that night, waking up to the sight of his face in front of you, having fallen asleep at the table himself, evidently not wanting to wake you.

Who was Steve? You’d heard the name sometimes in his sleep. It was one of the names on his necklace. It was the name signed onto the drawings that litter the ship. Drawings of flowers, trees, the sunset, the ocean. Drawings of what Neverland could be. And of him, of your captain.

What was his name? It was this question that finally allowed you to hear his voice. As you gazed at him, instead of the evil, instead of the sin you had always heard about in those tales about him, you saw only yourself in his steely blue eyes. You saw your own loneliness and longing reflected back at you, and you knew for certain right then that the tales were untrue.

You never hoped to leave the ship.

You had nowhere else to go, after all.

But the real reason you stayed was because there was warmth there, a kind of warmth you’d never felt, even before you were an outcast.

You prayed you’d never have to.

“James,” he finally answered. His voice melted into your skin, seeped into your veins, and traveled straight to your heart.

Magic eluded you for years. You thought it had forsaken you. You thought it had deemed you unworthy. Turned out, magic came to you in the form of a lonely captain on a deserted ship, himself nothing but a lost soul that Peter Pan could not—or would not—touch.

They called him Captain Hook.

You would only ever call him James.

James would never tell you that finding you on that forest floor was what saved his life. He would later learn what you were, but even without fairy wings you remained the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in Neverland.

For a moment, he thought he had been hallucinating. There was no way a cursed being like him would find a solace like you after centuries of sorrow. It must be a trick. He must have finally lost his mind from grief. You could not be real.

But then you opened your eyes and the rest was history. James knew he needed to protect you then. Although, if he were really being honest with himself, he wasn’t doing it solely for you. The last time he had allowed to care, to love, Pan had taken everything from him. But you were off limits. The boy who never grows up was not allowed to touch you, not unless he wanted to hurt the only person who’d been loyal to him for as long as she had.

It’d been a very long time, and Pan is no longer the Peter that James remembered and loved, but there were still pieces of Peter in there somewhere—the traces of a boy who loved just as fiercely as he desperately wanted to be loved in return. It was why no matter how hard he tried, James could not bring himself to end the tyranny. Because to kill Peter Pan would be to kill the boy he used to be.

It would mean killing Peter Parker, the very last of James’ crew.

And if James had walked away from you that night, then he could bid what remained of the already shattered remnants of his soul goodbye. You were such a tiny little thing, but somehow you already took up more room in his life than anything else had in years.

“Why did you save me if you didn’t want to be friends?” You asked him one day, sitting at the table in his cabin, tiny legs dangling off the edge. You kicked them underneath you innocently, eyes hopeful as you asked the question.

He did want to be friends, but he didn’t remember how.

He didn’t want to be friends, because his heart longed for something more.

“How come you leave the candle lit all night for me, even though it disturbs your sleep?” He thought you might have been cold, but honestly this wasn’t just because of you. He left a candle lit at night even before you ever came along, as sleep had been the one to disturb him. Most nights, it eluded him. But on the rare occasions it did come, it was almost never peaceful.

And perhaps it was his way of atoning, of trying to guide other lost souls away from the darkness.

“Where is everyone else?” They are all dead… except one. Rage flooded into him when you found the tags with the forbidden names engraved on them. It had been a very long time since he’d had to share space with another living being, and sometimes he forgot how delicate you were.

His anger lashed out then and he cruelly trapped you underneath a jar, hating himself for it when he heard your crying and sobbing into the night. Your little hands bang—tinkle—against the glass, begging him to let you out.

You withdrew from him after that.

He wanted to say sorry. He wanted to tell you he’d never do it again. He wanted to promise to cut off his other hand if you didn’t believe him.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t find the words important enough.

So, he took you to the beach, watched as you played and jumped and leapt. The happiness that radiated from you when he gifted you a tiny pink seashell is debilitating. The water splashed at your feet, and when you looked up at him, smiling, it took everything for him not to weep.

When was the last time he found joy—pure unadulterated joy—in Neverland?

He found it in your eyes then. He silently vowed to do everything to keep it there.

“Why does Peter Pan hate you so much?” Hate was perhaps not the right word, because Pan had never taken the chance to kill him either even though he’d had plenty of opportunities.

But Peter was drunk on power and fairy dust, allowed it to turn him into the tyrant he was today, luring the lost and terrified spirits of children under his spell in a misguided and twisted attempt to build some kind of family.

He might sympathize with Pan, if it hadn’t turned him into a bully. And he never liked bullies; neither did the rest of his crew. They fought alongside him, determined to free Neverland and return it to the utopia it once was. They did not succeed.

“How did you lose your arm?” The stories told that it was bitten off by an alligator. But in reality, he’d given it up. Peter wanted to know how badly he wanted his friends back.

I can return them to you, but you can’t have something for nothing.

He should have known better than to make a deal with the devil; he never does give you what you wish for.

I never said I would give them back alive.

“Who is Steve? I hear you say his name sometimes.” This was the name that always hit him hardest. It belonged to his first mate, his best friend, his brother in arms. He was half-surprised when he had to blink away tears, astonished that the grief he had grown so comfortable with still had the power to bring him down under again.

Tiny, stubborn, and hot-headed Steven, who always chose to do the right thing, no matter how hard it would be.

He remembered cradling Steve’s small body in his arms, burying him under the sand along with the rest of his friends. He had kissed them all goodbye, clutching at their limp hands as his lips caressed their foreheads before he walked away, but he would leave a part of his soul with each of them.

“What is your name?” He looked at you then, and centuries of ache compelled him to tell you. It was a gift, one’s own name, and to share it with another person was sacred. It was an act so simple, but it was capable of forging a bond. When you told him yours, he craved it—that connection to another creature he hadn’t had in so long.

“James.”

It was a word he hadn’t spoken in years and it sounded strange on his tongue, like it didn’t even belong to him. But then you repeated it, slowly, one, twice, three times, and he knew that nothing was ever going to be the same.

You called to him that night, sounding happy to be able to do it, to say goodnight to him and follow it with his name.

“Good night, James.”

The fog suddenly lifted. The name that had been so foreign to him suddenly belonged to him again. He remembered James Barnes, the person he used to be, the person he needed to rediscover.

He remembers the person he must remain. 

fin.

AFTERWORD — i’ve always thought about writing a sequel or rewriting this as a miniseries, and i’ll never say never when it comes to this story, but i’ve yet to be struck with any kind of inspiration that could possibly do this fic justice. maybe one day? who knows.

© 2024 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. no part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. followers with zero engagement, serial likers, and blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

[axolotl4days]

Yandere! Royal family × Neglected Reader

The Reborn Royal Part 1

Summary: This is one of those storys where y/n is born to royal family but the family treats them horribly and they become reborn and try to change their fate. Except, this y/n has been through the loop many. Many times, always meeting their doom, until one loop it suddenly changes

Tw: violence, abuse, yandere behavior(all platonic), descriptions of death, mentions of suicide and self harm.

Another day of torment has gone bye, as usual.

This time y/n had "embaressed" the family at a royal ball ruining their older siblings proposals. And being punished heavily for it.

Beaten and bruised y/n retreated to the library, one of the only places you know is safe from the torment on account of how large it is. Always finding books that have been hidden away covered in dust for who knows how long.

The library was always so quiet, you always liked that about it, you weren't yelled at here, weren't beaten here due to the importance of the library.

So you were free to explore and read to your hearts content, thats when you found it.

A book unlike anything you've ever seen before, a book with no cover, and seemingly having empty pages until you reach the middle of the book and see it written.

"Ask for it and it shall be yours. But be careful what you wish for"

You wonder what this means, you've seen magic before, even learned it in some previous lives, but you've never known magic, let alone any books that could grant wishes. Still, after so many lifetimes of pain and suffering, you think about what to wish for that could save you from this.

"I... I wish for my life to change, to have a loving, caring family, to go throughout my days not needing to fear pain just for existing" y/n starts to sob, wishful thinking they think to themselves, that is until the text on the book starts to move around and change.

"Your wish has been granted. The next time you wake up your life will be changed forever" the text then fades from the book as if it was never there in the first place. Y/n puts the book back where they found it and filled with hope that they hadn't had in a long time, they head off to bed hoping that the book worked and that finally things will change for the better.

....

.......

It does not.

Nothing seems to have changed. Everything is the same as it was. It's been a few weeks since you've made your wish, and unfortunately the torment hasn't let up, not even a little bit. Your Mother and Father, the Queen and King respectively continue to ignore your existence completely, ashamed to have birthed a useless child like you. Throughout your lives no matter what you did they always saw you the same, it shouldn't still hurt after so long but it does.

Your siblings, have changed, but only for the worst, since your last embaressment on them your older brothers have been pushing you around more and more, your older sister, while she doesn't harm you physically whenever she's near you she makes it her job to remind you about how much of a failure you are. How you always ruin everything.

You never should have gotten your hopes up. You don't know why you even try anymore. What's the point of living through these lives if the outcome is all the same, waiting for the day you'll die in some horrible way, usually killed, but there has been the occasional accident.

Something snaps. You can't live like this anymore, maybe... maybe if instead of being killed... maybe if you kill yourself it'll all stop...

And that's what you do.

While the rest of your "family" is hosting another ball to repair the damage you've done. You make your move, heading to one of the palace balconys and ending it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Royal Family have just announced they are having another child, they should be rejoicing but ever since the Queen discovered she was pregnant they whole family seems to have fallen under a curse of some kind.

Visions of the future, of pain, of... a person? They've never seen this person yet they look so much like them. And they see themselves too but.. somethings wrong with them. The visions are horrible, seeing each of them hurting this unknown person.

At first the Queen thought she was just having pregnancy nightmares, but then she overhears her boys fighting about something they've seen.

The Royal family gathers to discuss and discovers that they've all been getting this visions, visions of different lives, of this persons different lives. They've discovered that their visions line up, but still have many differences.

Preists, Mages, Wizards, they've called everyone they could from all over the kingdom that could possibly explain what's happening to them. To make it stop.

But none of them could figure it out.

This continues for months and they only seem to get worse. At first it was merely people who looked like them being rude, or obnoxious, or bullys, but has time went on the people in these visions got meaner. Got violent. And then the deaths started to show.

They can only watch in horror as this person dies time and time again. They refuse to believe that the people in these visions could be them. Why would they ever hurt this "y/n" this way. They don't understand it. The children wake up screaming so often that for the last month of the Queens pregnancy the family refuses to leave each other's side.

And then it happens. The day that changes everything. The day the Queen gives birth, they all have one final vision, for once, it's the same vision as well. They see this "y/n" holding a book, making their wish, and then... jumping

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything is dark, and for a moment, you think this may really be the end for once... so many emotions all at once but there's no time to think before there's a bright light and you open up your eyes.

And you see them. It didn't work. You start to cry, and you cry hard, you immediately expect to be handed over to a maid as always, but instead the queen Your mother, she keeps you in her arms and tries her best to comfort you. Looking at you for the first time and she cries.

This is strange. She's never reacted like this, she's never held you like this she's-

"It's her."

A states, you can't see him but you recognize your father's voice. The voice of a king is hard to forget.

"There she is. Y/n."

You flinch at your name being said, you don't think anything of it, but they notice. They never wanna see you flinch again. Your only a baby. Your THEIR baby.

They have you now. So small, so delicate, so fragile, they won't let anyone hurt you. They've seen the visions, they've seen your deaths, and while you don't know it. They've vowed to never let you go through any of that ever again.

No matter what. You will get what you wished for. They'll make sure of it.

[vendettasfanfictioning]

Ok so. "Why does this sound like a goodbye?" Was fucking heartbreaking, right; we have the full-on uninterrupted eye contact, the head tilt, Dean's already open mouth twitching before the scene cuts to Cas' "I love you," like he had more to say, but Cas beats him to the punch. It's great, we love that. But for the dialogue to be sequenced that way, and to have Dean reply with, "don't do this, Cas."

I'm only just realizing how fucking insane it was. And sure, I might just be coping here, at the end of the day who fucking knows, but look at it. Think about it. Now let yourself feel it all over again.

It's Dean's death knocking on the door behind Cas, and it's Cas' death emerging behind Dean. Like this, they're directly facing their own demise—but they're too stuck on each other, in their moment, to give a damn. And then Dean doesn't say, "I love you too." He says, "don't do this."

He isn't disgusted or ashamed or put off in the slightest by Cas' confession, because if he is then why is he on the verge of tears? In what world would it make sense for him to want to cry after his best friend confessed to him, if the confession was something he did not want. He says don't do this here, don't do this to me now.

Even if, and that's the most unlikely if to ever exist, Dean did not reciprocate Cas' feelings—don't do this is still so fucking powerful. Because Dean's connected the dots, happiness [...] is in just saying it, and Cas said it, so where does that lead Dean? That's right, with Cas dead again, trying to save him again.

Don't do this. Don't die for me, don't love me only to die for me, don't love me at all, just stay with me.

Don't let me watch you die again and not even let me follow you—because, at the very least, that was a consolation. She's gonna kill you, which Dean knows that Billie knows will hurt him more than his own death, and then she's gonna kill me.

"Don't do this," was actually so fucking powerful, I don't know how it slipped past me until now...