#interesting and just...offers time for reflection

[ilkkawhat]

got weirdly nostalgic in the bath just now and just went to my archive blog and holy shit. i've officially been giffing for 10 years.

[mourn-and-watch]

so if solas sees himself in the inquisitor because of how they were made a leader, a prophet and a symbol by people who followed them, just as fen'harel had been made a leader and a saviour for by the freed elven slaves, will he see himself in rook because they're left alone against the threat they can't possibly defeat without singlehandedly making decisions that will impact the world in unknown ways, just as fen'harel had been left alone against evanuris with no other option but to create the veil

[svtskneecaps]

thank you for bearing with my purgatory posting and i'm also glad to see i'm not the only one who still has this fungus eating away at my brain matter. seeing other purgatory posting in the tag makes me feel better lmfao.

i'm not done btw, posting will (probably) continue as i revisit vods. wanted to extend a thanks in the interim, since i know how contentious the event was in the moment. i kinda thought the general consensus was most people hated thinking about it, but there's been a weird amount of engagement and yknow other people talking. makes me happy to know i'm not alone here!

[exopelagic]

okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere FarmBoy

[Yandere M. x F. AFAB Reader]

it's a bit longer than i initially wanted this to be, but i had fun writing it! it's a bit more rushed towards the end so sorry if it shows. this was supposed to be for october, but i ended up not finishing it in time, so i'm very happy to have it finally done

TW. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT Noncon, fingering, baby trapping, yandere, slut shaming, victim blaming, bullying, non consensual touching, misogyny, gaslighting, manipulation, implied future forced relationship, abuse of power

The local golden boy your father has hired has taken a keen interest in you, an impoverished farmer's daughter, and you can't seem to shake him off. As he doubles down on pursuing you, and you continue to refuse him, the lengths he goes to ensure you'll be his increase drastically with one autumn night and a chase through a wheat field.

7.2k words

You didn’t know why Daniel insisted on working on your father’s farm. It wasn’t like his family wasn’t well off. In fact, out of all the families within the valley, his was the most successful by far. Hell, they were the only ones who could actually afford to employ other people. He drove a shiny new truck just like the rest of his kin, and lived in a big, multi story house at the top of the hill.

 Your daddy could only really pay him scraps. The land you lived on was rough to say the least, all overgrazed and tough, untenable soil that had a Ph level that could’ve come straight out of hell in your honest opinion. Basically, there wasn’t shit to be earned, and the only reason why your folks even tried to desperately keep growing crop after failed crop was because if they didn’t, then you’d be flat out homeless and starving. The stock your family produced wasn’t worth a dime, either. Milk too sour, corn too small, eggs so dull and tiny people thought that they weren’t even from chickens; you were surprised people even bought from your daddy at all.

The poor state of your homestead was reflected in nearly everything else around you. You always looked some kind of mussed up: Wild, unkempt hair, dirt under your nails, clothes that looked either too small, too big or way too out of fashion. You got bullied quite a bit by the other young ladies in town. That is if you could even be called a young lady. There wasn’t a lick of lady in you it seemed.

You and your family were always on the edge of going broke, going hungry or some other kind of misfortune, so you found it increasingly odd why the Petusky boy was so keen to get his hands dirty when there was nothing he could get in return.

Daniel Petusky, or Danny as he would so kindly remind you to call him, was by most accounts the sweetest, most eligible young man in town. He was a tall, stocky sort of guy with large, rough hands and a handsome smile. You’d be stupid to say he wasn’t quite the looker, and not to mention he was all muscular and strong lookin from all his time working. When you were in highschool, he’d been the star of the school’s football team, and there were even rumors that he was getting offers from big, fancy schools in big fancy cities. You remembered how blooming with jealousy you were back then because of that. But, as you were so constantly reminded of through seeing his working boots that had to be worth at least a couple hundred bucks, he was wealthy too. 

He helped out around town, was sweet to older folks, and made all the ladies swoon with a flip of his sandy blond hair. He charmed your father just as easily, asking him if he could work his land for him, or at least help him with it. Of course your daddy would say yes. He needed all the help he could get, and lord know you weren’t nearly enough to actually keep this place afloat. Plus, who else would accept such low pay? It wasn’t like there was a line out the door for a chance to work at the [Last Name] farm, now was there?

You sighed as you hauled a bag of feed over to the chicken coop. It was mighty heavy, and you grunted as you nearly slipped in the mud. Hands shot out and grabbed your waist, and you gasped in surprise as the bag landed on the ground with a large thud.

“Careful there, wouldn’t want you to take a tumble now,” Daniel chuckled softly. His voice rumbled in your head like thunder on the horizon. He steadied you and pressed you close against his chest. Your heart thumped wildly in your ribcage, though only part of it was because of your little fall. No, it was the way his fingers inched over your curves, toying with the waistband of your jeans. You swallowed thickly.

“Thanks…” You mumbled out before you stooped down to pick up the feed once again. You didn’t miss the way his gaze stuck to you when you did.

“You really shouldn’t be doing heavy liftin’, you know,” He said and pushed you to the side to grab it from your strained arms. He made it look so effortless, and it annoyed you to no end. You followed after him into the coop, an encasement of wire around it. “That’s what I’m here for.”

You frowned and didn’t respond to him. You just kept on going as you ripped open the sack to spill out all the seed. The birds rushed around your feet to get their meal, and normally you would’ve laughed and indulged in petting a couple of them, but normally you didn’t have company. Daniel had been getting better at finding you it seemed. Day by day it felt like you saw him more and more. 

You tried not to be one of those people that held onto their younger years, but whenever he was around, all you felt were the lingering memories from highschool. You were mocked on the daily. Most of the adults thought you were lost cause, always late to classes and struggling through the course material. You were called all sorts of names: ugly, stupid, slow. While he never bullied you directly, you always felt him staring. At games, in class, when he would drive slowly by you while you walked home everyday. You shuddered to think about it.

You always remembered a very specific moment that happened back in highschool. Especially now that you saw Daniel everyday again.

“What do you think about the farmer’s daughter?”

“Which one?”

He sounded so innocent, so sweet. Like he didn’t know.

“Don’t go fuckin’ with me, Petusky,” One of the guys chuckled, a cruel hint in his eyes. “You know which one I mean. The trash.” Oh… they were talking about you.

You were sitting in the diner eating a small plate of fries. You couldn’t really afford to eat anything more than that with your limited allowance and pay. You clenched your fist in your lap as you listened to the group of guys speak harshly about you. You were just out of view around the corner, all alone in the tiny booth usually reserved for couples and the like. The waitress shot you a pitiful look, and she slipped you a milkshake for free. It should’ve made you feel better, but it did more harm than good. She knew. Everyone knew you as trash.

“Come on, don't talk about her like that. She just ain’t got the means,” Daniel laughed. The sound rang in your ears, and you felt sick to your stomach.

“Or the looks.” A chorus of snickers erupted.

“She ain’t that bad,” He started, but he stopped short and just let out a playful sigh. “Hey, if y’all hate her, then y’all hate her. Can’t stop you from not wanting to fuck her if you don’t want to haha,” He joked. You could hear the strain in his voice and just imagine his blinding white smile. You busied yourself with the milkshake and tried to ignore how gross it felt to swallow down.

“Yeah, no way I’d ever touch that bitch without a three foot pole. Probably got fleas or somethin’.”

“Haha yeah…” 

They sat there chatting shit for a while longer, and you sat there miserable, shaking, and on the verge of tears. You wanted to sink into the checker patterned floor and disappear forever. You knew people didn’t like you, but was it really that bad? Were you that awful? Your eyes stung, and you just stared at the empty seat in front of you.

Eventually, the group of guys, all clad in their Ariat branded clothing and snap back hats got up and got ready to leave. None of them spared you a glance, too busy filing out to their trucks to look around them. But Daniel did.

His hazel eyes swiveled over towards you, most likely just out of habit, and caught on you. He froze. The two of you stared at each other, and his face morphed from quiet shock to anger. The planes of his features, so normally joyous and polite, shifted into something so ugly and unfamiliar that you flinched.

No one else had seen, and no one, not even him, had ever brought it up again.

Daniel liked to follow you around when there wasn’t really much work to be done. The property wasn’t the biggest, so he could find you quite easily if you weren’t by the house. Like now, while you were lounging in the barn and reading a book while hidden behind some shelving. You clutched onto the pages of the novel (some old faded copy of a Jane Austen book that you had plucked from a free bin at the local thrift store), and looked up nervously as you heard his heavy footsteps thudding against the concrete floors. He loomed over you and hummed softly.

“What you got there?” He asked and crouched down to your level. You flinched back and glanced between the small, hard to read print and him.

“A book…” You mumbled out. It was always hard to speak when you felt so embarrassed. Everyone and their mother knew that you struggled severely all through school. The teachers pretty much gave up on you, and you stumbled your way through graduation. You’d never been very smart, but sometimes you wish you were. When that happened, you tried to push yourself and learn.

“Seems like a might hard for you,” Daniel chuckled and plucked it from your hands. You let out a noise of protest as he thumbed through the pages with a low whistle and patted the top of your head. You bristled a bit. “I’m sorry? Whaddya' mean by that?” 

“Just that there are all sorts of fancy words in here,” He shrugged as he cozied up beside you. You could feel the warmth of his skin, burning from all the sun he soaked up, through the fine cotton of his shirt. It was long sleeved so that he wouldn’t get burnt during the heat of the day, but it didn’t make you feel any less flustered.

He was so confusing. Did he act like this with all the other girls in town? It was stupid to picture him as some robot who had his settings permanently flipped to flirt mode, but you genuinely couldn’t figure out why else he would be slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

“Daniel-”

“Danny.” He interrupted quickly, and you flinched from just how barely concealed his annoyance was. You tried to get up, you really did, but he was just so much stronger than you. You squeaked as he yanked you over his thighs. His strong bridged nose was pushing itself in the crook of your neck. “You call me Danny, you hear?” He murmured. His breath was so warm. All of him was just muscle and heat. You’d never been with anyone like this, never felt a guy’s chest pressed against your back. 

Your daddy would skin you alive for this, surely. There wasn’t a single chance in hell that you wouldn’t be punished if not run out for fooling around with a respectable young man who you weren't even dating. 

“The only thing we got is our dignity. It don’t pay no bills, but it do keep us in good graces. You do anythin’ stupid- and hear this well, girl. You do anythin’ stupid, and you’ll be out of this house before you can even pull your pants up.”

The threat was always so clear to you that it was impossible to not whimper and tremble as he groped you over your clothing. He chuckled, a soft sound that made you feel all sort of sick, and held you tight.

“Now honey, you don’t have to go all spooked on me.” He was kissing your shoulder, all tense and rigid. You felt like a piece of wood being bent far past what it should. Your bones were about to splinter, your heart about to fly out like shrapnel and just crack all over his insistent, firm hands.

“Don’t… It ain’t- ain’t right,” You stammered out. The spell was broken, and you started to grab at his wrists to get him to slow down. “ I’ll get in trouble,” You tried to reason, to hope that those golden boy manners would win out. Hope that he’d get off of you and leave you alone.

“Trouble? Hon, who you gettin’ in trouble with?” He laughed and reached up to cup your chin and face. Your head was pulled up in a craning stretch, and his fingers squished your cheeks in a playful, humiliating gesture. “With your folks? Don’t be silly [Name].”

“You’re grown, I’m grown… this is just normal between two grown people,” He hummed and started to tug up your shirt.

“H-hey! Quit it! I’m serious! I don’t want to,” You repeated, gaining your voice as he wriggled his way under the band of your soft, worn bra and began to knead your breast. He picked up the book while he pinned your legs underneath his own heavy ones and forced you to look at the random page he opened it to, completely ignoring your plea.

“Tell me, honey. What does this mean?” He asked

“What?”

“Read for me.” He drawled in a demanding tone. Your eyes flitted around nervously. “I want to know what you think you’re doing when you’re not with me. Hon, you really shouldn’t be wandering alone like this.”

“This is my farm-”

“Your Daddy’s farm,” he corrected and tugged on your nipple. You whimpered as a bolt of arousal coursed through you. Your cheeks flushed with heat. You’d never had such need dripping from between your legs before, and it got worse and worse as he pinched and rolled the sensitive nub between the rough pads of his fingers. You could feel the way his smirk felt against your skin.

“This ain’t your land, but that’s okay. I could buy it for your folks, make it so y’all don’t have to work so hard. And you’d get to sit pretty in the house all day, reading these books and whatnot. Now wouldn’t that be nice? Not having to work to the bone? Not having to get your pretty little face all mussed up?” He whispered and nipped at your cheek. You were on the verge of tears, watching helplessly as he threw your beat up novel to the side. You watched in detached horror as the words and ink were smudged and bled out by the small, dirty puddle it had landed in. Your hands curled into fists.

“Just say yes, honey. I’d treat you real nice. Promise.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and your entire body thrummed with shame, fear and arousal. You didn’t want to admit it. You’d rather have your heart torn out than ever in a million years say that it felt good, or that the attention he was sneaking you made you feel fuzzy inside sometimes. Because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he made you feel like this weirdo for ignoring him when he was, in fact, an actual, honest to god threat.

“No.”

“Hm? Repeat that for me now, would you honey?” He purred. 

You gritted your teeth and with a burst of strength, you shoved off of him. His molten caress was gone in an instant, and your thighs shook as you scrambled to crawl away. Your chest heaved in little short bursts, and he looked at you with genuine surprise. He looked at you as if it was the first time he’d considered you could even do that.

“I said no!” You didn’t think it was proper for a lady to be hollering at a ‘nice young man’ like that, but you did. You didn’t care who heard you, not that it mattered. The barn you were in was a decent ways away from everything else on the property. You smoothed your hands over where he had touched and kissed you, like it would get rid of the pure lust he was heaping onto you.

Daniel’s pretty face scrunched up into a glaring, furious version of itself. You could see the way his veins bulged in his neck and the way he flexed like a predator getting ready to pounce. You swallowed thickly, but you managed to wobble up onto your feet, to for once be able to look down on him.

“I don’t know what you think your talkin’ about, but I am not some- some easy girl that- that you can just sweet talk into giving you some,” You spat out. He moved to stand, and you took a step back. His hands came up in a placating gesture.

“Now, don’t go rattlin’ off about nothin’ you don’t understand,” He said, voice sharp. There was an undeniable frustration to the way he carried himself, to the way he huffed slightly and never took his narrowed eyes off of you. “I’m not talkin’ about foolin’ around, honey. I wanna have the real thing. Kids, a nice wedding, to come home to you every day… I wouldn’t just leave you,” he nearly spat. His lips curled in anger, but it wasn’t directed at you. No, it was more the suggestion that he was fucking around.

“You and me, [Name], are going to be a proper couple one of these days. And you’re gonna be my wife, I’ll tell you that.”

You shuddered. There was a slimy feeling working its way up your body, through your guts and through the tips of your stood up hairs on the back of your neck. He was crazy. A downright maniac. There was that similar look in his eyes, the one he had given you years back in that diner, and you wondered how deep this went. 

How long did he spend stalking you through the fields, hoping to have you pressed under him? How long had he been trying to worm his way into your life? More importantly, when exactly did he decide that just faking nice wasn’t going to cut it anymore?

“Like I’d ever let that fuckin’ happen,” You spat and ran straight out of that barn all the way home.

There was a fall festival happening in town. Your daddy was preparing to sell things at the market, though there wasn’t much interest in buying fresh produce this close to winter. 

“Now there ain’t enough to go around for you to go. Just stay here and we’ll bring you back something real nice,” Your mother had said with a small, pained smile before they packed up the truck full of goods and lumbred off into the orange painted sky. 

You were left standing in front of your empty house with the porch light fighting off the oncoming darkness of night. It was quiet when your family wasn’t here to fill out the house with sounds of cooking, arguing and just life in general. There was a weird sense of unease that settled in your gut now that you were on your lonesome. It felt like shit to just be abandoned like that, to know that your kin was out there having fun and interacting with the rest of the town while you were stuck closing up the farm for the night. You sighed, fists curling at your side as you kicked idly at the gravel pebbles on the path.

Well, there wasn’t much use in throwing a pity party. The coop needed to be locked up, the heaters in the barn needed to be turned on, the gates all had to be checked. It wasn’t all that much work all things considered, but it was enough to have you pushing through the shadowed fields at a hurried pace.

You carried out your tasks, floating through the empty farm with a goal of relaxing down in your cozy bed to read more of that novel you had been so desperately trying to finish. The cool autumn breeze brushed past your skin and made you shiver. Goosebumps. How strange… it wasn’t cold enough for that.

It was nearly silent save for the rustle of leaves and the crunch of your feet against the ground. You hummed softly and rubbed your arms as night finally fell over your quaint home.

“It ain’t supposed to be this chilly yet,” You grumbled to yourself as you walked down the path to get back to your house from the back of the property. You eyed the wheat field and stopped in your tracks. Hey now… there wasn’t any harm in taking a shortcut, now was there? It wasn’t like your father was there to holler at you for walking through the crops. You knew your way through it pretty easily, didn’t get turned around or nothing even if it was completely dark. The moon was full and practically beaming down onto the golden stalks, now painted pretty and silver. 

You weaved through the field with ease, sighing softly as you could see the roof of the house through the leaves. You caught sight of the peeling paint and nearly slumped in relief. Well, you were being excluded from the fall festivities, but at least you could get all cozy for once. You stepped out past the edge of the field and now in the open, eyes fixed low on the ground as you tried to not trip over your own damn feet, but when you looked up you couldn’t help but freeze. 

There, standing in front of your porch, was a tall imposing figure silhouetted in the hazy yellow light buzzing above the garage.

You came to a halt instantly, your breath hitching right as your heart stuttered. “What in the…?” You whispered to yourself as you took in the sight of the stranger. He was looking at the spaces where the truck would normally be, and you had half a mind to not just run up and start hollering at this stranger. What if he needed help or something? You didn’t see any car around  or nothing, so maybe he was in trouble. You squinted, and you couldn’t help the little gasp that left your lips as you realized that he had on a burlap sack fitted loosely over his head. He had gloves on too, the nice leather kind that you knew cost more than what you spent on groceries in a week. But no good man wore gloves when he wasn’t working, and this guy wasn’t doing anything but staring at the front door.

Your fingers twitched as you just stood there wide eyed and slack jawed. What the fuck should you do? The kind, ladylike thing to do would be to ask if he needed anything or if he was lost, but there was something stirring in your gut that was telling you to go and hide as quickly as you could. You slowly began to back away, one footstep at a time. It was like everything was frozen around you, your breath stilling in your lungs.

You couldn’t look away from him, even as you retreated further and further. His head swiveled slightly as he examined the porch of your house, and you were sent further and further into a frozen spiral as he finally turned to finally look at the fields. The fields where you were inching towards, to be specific. Of course you couldn’t see his features, but there was no mistaking the fact that he was searching for something. And when he finally turned so that you could fully take in the way his muscles tensed and his posture hunched into something more haggard and eager than you’d ever have expected, you realized that something was in fact you. 

A scream tore out of your throat as he barrelled towards you, his hands outstretched and ready to catch you. You could hear him calling your name, but you just started running. How did he know you? It didn’t matter though, not when you could practically taste the danger in the air with every ragged breath you inhaled.

Leaves whipped against your face and arms, leaving faint red lines from how harshly they scraped you, but you kept going. The man’s heavy footfalls thundered after each of yours, and you shrieked in pure horror as he reached up and grabbed the back of your shirt and roughly yanked you back. Your feet skidded in the loose dirt as you thrashed and tried to fight him off.

“Stop fussin’ and behave!” He commanded, his voice gruff with annoyance. It sounded like he was purposefully speaking deeper than his normal voice would allow. He followed his words up by clamping his gloved hand around the back of your throat and shoved you down to your knees. 

“Ngh! Let me go! My folks will be back any second, a-and then you’re gonna get it you fuckin’ spineless little-!”

Your snarling was cut off with another cry of fear as he squeezed down on your windpipe for a fraction of a second. He grappled with your shaking body as he pushed you up against his chest and pressed you down into the earth. Your eyes were wide and your nostrils flared with panic at the feeling of soil against your cheek.

“Your family ain’t here. They ain’t gonna be here for a while. Quit cryin’ before I give you something to really cry over… shit and I’m tryin’ to be all romantic. I know you’re stubborn but shit…” He grumbled and nuzzled his face against the crown of your head. The burlap of the sack was rough and unpleasant, just another layer upon the mountain of shit you were in. He inhaled deeply, sniffing your neck and shoulder through the barrier of fabric. You shuddered and balled your fists up.

That voice, that touch: it was all so horribly familiar. 

“Daniel?” Your voice carried a hint of betrayal you wish wasn’t there. You disliked him, thought of him a creep, but this was beyond anything that you would’ve ever thought him capable of. But then again, when had he ever given you the chance to actually trust him. If anything, you should’ve expected this. Should’ve known. Should’ve done something.

He stilled behind you, his feverish panting ceasing all at once and replaced with eerie silence. Sweat beaded on your forehead as the moment seemed to stretch on forever. Slowly his hands slid over your belly, pressed between the ground and your soft skin and ruching up the fabric of your shirt.

“Daniel,” You repeated his name, more panicked. It was like you were back in the barn again, but this time you felt no warmth from his skin. His sun kissed boyishness that had you squirming with unknown feelings was now replaced with simple cold dread, bathed in silver moonlight and casted with iron resolve. “Daniel, stop it.. Please,” you croaked out as tears gathered in your lashes.

“... You can still say yes [Name]” He whispered, nearly as desperate as you were for a brief moment. You flinched at his voice, but you found no sympathy in his rigid form. You opened your mouth again to beg, but you squeaked as he covered your mouth with his thick, gloved hand. You squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m tryin’ to give you the world here, and all you have to do is be a good girl for me and take it, alright?”

The sound of your clothes ripping filled your ears, and he yanked the tatters of your sweater away. He grunted at the effort, shoving you further down to secure you while he reached underneath your squirming form to unbutton your jeans. The denim burned your thighs as it scraped past, leaving your skin sore to his kneading of the soft skin. His breath hitched once his fingers wormed their way past your clenched legs to cup your pussy through the worn cotton of your panties. 

“ Oh…” He sighed, sounding so dreamy and fascinated. It was like he weren't about to do the worst thing that had ever happened to you. “Would you look at that,” Danny murmured and fucking squeezed. You kicked against him as hard as you could, and he only laughed softly. “You’re already wet.”

You screamed in protest at that, but he whispered shushes into your ear.

“No use denying it, honey,” He almost sounded amused as he dragged your underwear down to finally reveal what he’d been after. He finally let go of your face, and you gasped for air, letting out a string of curses so foul your father would've surely beat you for even uttering them. He ignored your profanities and wrangled your pelvis into his lap, your thrashing legs on either side of his thick waist. Your nails dug into the dirt as you tried to crawl away, but he shook you harshly. “Quit squirmin’! I deserve a good look at my future wife…” he grumbled, annoyance muffled by the burlap sack. It was even worse that you couldn’t see his face. 

Suddenly, your cunt was burning. You hissed, and your fingers curled around the earth. “Ow ow ow!” You cried. Daniel made a curious noise.

“Hm, was hopin’ you’d be a bit looser… relax honey, I ain’t gonna hurt you. You just gotta relax a bit,” He cooed and stroked your lower back, squeezing the globe of your ass and holding you in place with one hand while the other was currently trying to stuff its digits into your tight, clenched walls. You squeaked as his thumb pressed harshly down on your clit, and you jerked at the sensation. “Shh, shhh, it’s okay …” he murmured. It was the same way you would speak to frightened livestock before it was sent for slaughter, all placating and sweet despite the animal knowing something was obviously wrong. Your dry walls clenched around the leather, pulsing as he worked at the little bundle of nerves until pleasure sparked like embers. Slowly, but surely, he worked your hole into a leaking, slicked up mess, his glove covered in your juices.

After a while of prodding and trying to roughly finger you, he finally stopped. You were crying, your tears mixing into mud now smeared across your cheeks. Instead of relief, dread took over your gut.

“I think you’re ready, honey…” He whispered, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Your thighs trembled as he stroked them and moved you once again. His arms wrapped around your waist, his muscular chest pressed against your back. His breath was hot against your neck and ear, the burlap sack rubbing against your skull. The sound of a zipper flying and denim rustling flowed into your frazzled brain. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to say no anymore, your head rolling forward limply to try and avoid his heady gaze that you could feel burning into your skin. 

Something hard and hot pressed against your ass cheek, and you jerked away. He fumbled around for a bit, trying to line himself up with your clenched entrance. There were no more hushed promises or niceties, just rough grunts and the strain of his muscles against you. 

The first thing you noticed was how much it burned. It wasn’t like that of being burned, though you wished it was. No, it was more like the stretching you would do in gym class way back when. It was past the point of comfort, feeling muscle thin out and weaken while you breathed deeply to stop feeling it so much. 

He groaned in your ear, loudly too. 

“ Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” He rasped. “To have a moment like this?” You gasped as he bottomed out. Your guts were all squished up in places that you didn’t even know existed before. You moaned softly, partly out of pain and out of surprising warmth. Something stirred within you as he drew back, shuddering and stilted. 

It took him a few moments to get it right, and he laughed in boyish glee when he finally managed to keep up a steady pace. He burrowed his head in the crook of your neck, joining you in the mud. Warmth spread through your gut as he pumped into you. At first it was just harsh prodding that hit the wrong angles in your stupidly wet cunt. Every blubber of fear, every hiss and whimpered ‘no’ only pushed him to find different places, find different ways to make you see stars and gasp when you should’ve been screaming.

“You’re always- fuck, you’re always fuckin’ teasin’ me,” He bit your earlobe through the thick fabric covering those charming, poisoned lips. “If it ain’t your goddamn folks around to stop me, then it’s you,” he practically spat, breathless and heady. “You ain’t got not right to say no to me when you know damn well that I’m the only one who can treat you well,” he snarled as his hips met yours roughly. 

You felt so full, and when his hand dipped down once again to find your clit, you could do nothing but squeal as he pinpointed those spots that had you seeing blurry from both inside and out. Your back arched despite your muscles feeling like they were pulled thin to the point of no return, flexing and twitching with every slap of his balls against your thighs.

“You’ll see- hngh- you’ll see how good you have it,” He promised ominously.

He picked up the pace all of a sudden, emboldened by whatever was going on in that thick skull of his. You let out a strangled cry, your scuffed shoes kicking up dirt everywhere as the pressure in your belly finally started to rise into a frightening, all consuming pulse that rippled up your entire body. It was like nothing you had ever felt before, and it was fucking terrifying. Your eyes were blown wide, and you began to shriek and buck your hips not to meet his pace, but rather to seek and escape from the impending climax that was gripping your limbs and locking them in aching pleasure. 

Danny shoved you further down, wrapping over you like he was some kinda snake. It felt like an apt comparison considering that this was the closest to being eaten alive that you could imagine anyone going through.

“ [Name] [Name] [Name] “ 

He chanted your name as he pumped his cock further and further into your pulsing heat. He was lost in the fervor of it all, too caught up to make his words coherent anymore. Not that anything would register through the haze of your tears and impending doom, but at least you didn’t have to pretend to listen. 

“Ngh! Fuck!”

He had to be close by now. Your thighs were a mess of your own juices and smeared with his precum and sweat, and the two of you writhed together in some mockery of tenderness. Daniel gasped and tensed, his muscles locking together as he finally spilled his release inside of your waiting walls. His voice became high pitched and whiny, and then, in a moment of pure heat and desperation, he finally spilled within you.

You didn’t know when Daniel left your side, but it had to have been a few hours at the very least. You hadn’t moved, too shocked and sore to do anything but bleakly stare into the thick maze of wheat stalks just beyond your fingertips. But he did leave at some point, and when your folks came back, you were alone.

As you had suspected, your father was livid.

“ HOW COULD YOU BE SO FUCKIN’ STUPID?”

It was awful. Almost as awful as what had been done to you, but it was somehow even more shameful. It had been terrible, sitting there on a rickety dining room chair that screamed and groaned everytime you flinched and shuddered. Your mom at least had the decency to wrap a towel around you while you were torn into. 

You had tried to tell them, “It was the Petusky boy” and “It wasn’t my fault”. None of your words seemed to hit.

“Danny wouldn’t do something like that.” Your Pa’s response was immediate, and you shut your mouth quickly, gaze boring into your hands curled in your trembling lap.

“Did you see who it was?” Your mom tried to coax out of you, though you got the impression she didn’t believe you either.

“No he had a mask but-”

“That settles it then,” Your dad cut in as he paced the room, his jaw was set tight, and your stomach churned uneasily. “He’s a good boy. A smart one too. He wouldn’t do something like that, and certainly not with you. Be honest [Name], you had to be askin’ for some shit. I’m not stupid. I swear-! We leave you alone for a goddamn second and you’re spreadin’ your legs for the first fool that comes by. And you have the nerve to blame it on an honest man,” he hissed out, and you felt tears brimming to your eyes. 

Your mama glared at him, but she did nothing to say anything against her husband. She merely shushed you and rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“From now on, you ain’t settin’ a foot off of this farm, you hear?” He snapped. You sank further into yourself, wishing you could just disappear. “Now, we’re going to keep this quiet. You’re going to keep your trap shut about this, and you’re not going to say a word about this to Petusky boy. And if I find out you did or if you managed to knock yourself up? You’ll be out on your ass before the sun comes up.” The ultimatum was laid bare, and you could do nothing but bite your lip and nod.

In the next few weeks, it felt like you were living in hell. Daniel still worked on your family’s farm, and you tried everything in your power to avoid him. It was strange, though. Even though you could feel his eyes following you everywhere, he hardly spoke to you since that night. You almost could’ve mistaken yourself for having imagined it if it weren’t for the warning looks your Pa shot you nearly every hour. Honestly, it probably would’ve been better if you had just made it all up.

Of course, you couldn’t just forget, but you wish you could. 

“Shit…” You murmured as you looked down at the faded calendar you had stashed in the barn along with your collection of paperback romances. It had been your escape recently, but now you once again were forced to face reality. You were late for your period. Pretty late at that, by at least a week in and a half. It was hard to ignore the reality that you could be pregnant, especially since he’d finished inside.

“What’re you lookin’ at?”

You screamed and tried to spin around, but Daniel quickly reached out to grab your arms and pin them in place, holding you still as his lips brushed against your earlobe. Revulsion and fear coursed through you, and your heart beat rapidly as he plucked the calendar from your trembling fingers.

“Hmmm,” His voice hummed low in his throat, a sweet noise that should’ve put you at ease, not on the verge of a breakdown. “You’re gonna have my baby,” He announced, smiling against your neck. Panic coursed through you, and you tried to squirm away as he snuggled up against you and dragged you over to some old crates to sit down. He played with the hem of your shirt, positively beaming with excitement.

“N-no I ain’t!” You protested with a face full of terror. He just laughed and hugged you.

“ I know… I know…” he murmured soothingly and pulled out a box, something rattling around inside. “But there’s a chance, ain’t there?” Pregnancy tests. A fucking two pack. You bit your lip, you couldn’t deny that you needed to know if you were or not. You silently took it from him and walked over to the run down bathroom. He waited, giving you space for the first time. Probably because he knew that even if he did, you had nowhere to run. 

Two lines on both tests. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose as Daniel smiled softly.

“See? I told you I was going to make you my wife,” He reminded you, and you felt sick.

“My folks don’t believe that you did it.”

“Really? Well ain’t that something… don’t fuss too much, honey. I’ll just work my charm, and you’ll be up in my house with a rock on your finger by the end of the month,” His promise was firm, and he squeezed your side, careful not to press too hard on your lower belly.

“And what if… what if I don’t want to?”

The question was quiet, desperate even. His eyes burned a hole into your skull, digging around in your brain and trying to pull on your thoughts and feelings. Slowly, he reached his hand up and grabbed your face. It was just rough enough to make you stumble forward, and you gasped.

“ You think that anyone out there is gonna believe you over me?” He asked softly, deceptively so. “That anyone gives a damn about what you think and feel, [Name]? I am the best option you’ve got. I’m the only option you got,” He continued, entwining one of his hands in yours as he walked you to the door.

“Your folks don’t care, no one in this town thinks of you as anythin’ but a tramp, and, shit- when you start showing? You think anyone is goin’ to give you a chance to prove you’re anythin’ else? Now I know you ain’t stupid, honey. Come on, you know as well as I do that this is the best that you’re ever gonna get,” Danny’s words were mocking, and his handsome face was obscured in shadow by the light pouring in from the barn door. You swallowed thickly as he wrapped his fingers gently around your throat.

“And…” His voice lowered as he leaned in to look you in the eyes. “ If you decide you want to be dumb, then I don’t mind tryin’ again to set you straight. Matter of fact, I’ll keep doin’ so until you get it in yer pretty little head that you’re gonna be mine.”He dragged you out of the barn, down the dirt path, and up onto the rotting porch of your house. Daniel flashed you a dazzling smile, his fingers digging into your own. As he reached for the doorknob, you thought of a million ways of how you could get out of this, could leave and run for the hills, but in the end you could only stand there. He seemed to notice you lost in thought and pause, raised your hand to his lips, and planted a swift kiss to your knuckles. “Don’t you worry, honey. I’ve always got you.”

[dashiellqvverty]

everyone always wants to talk about jenny nicholsons video essays and i’m like does ANYONE want to talk about the art of the mattress aka the sleep song. bc it plays in my head every time i see anything about her.

[snowluvvie]

"I, uh... posted a pic of you. On my MySpace." Rodrick mumbled, like maybe you wouldn't hear it if he said it quiet enough. He sat in front of his computer on his beat-up desk chair, the glow illuminating his face. You gave him a little grin, crossing the room to stand over his shoulder.

"Lemme see." You demanded, resting your hand affectionately on the top of his head. He looked up at you with a little smile and those eyes ringed with eyeliner, before returning his eyes to the screen to click around a few times.

Your eyes widened in interest when he pulled up the post. It was extremely plain, he "didn't have time" for his blog, though you knew he was kinda terrified what people thought of it, and just didn't want anyone to think he was trying. You knew he definitely was, though, you'd seen the focused way his teeth tugged at his bottom lip when his fingers flew across the keyboard.

It was just a picture of you, one you recognized being from last weekend when you'd been getting ready to go out at his house. You were set up in the bathroom, makeup cluttering every inch of the smooth white countertop and the back of the toilet, too. Hair pulled back so it was out of your way, face intently focused as you put your lashes on. It was a cute pic, even if you weren't all the way ready, you let it slide. You could even see a little sliver of Rodrick in the pic, reflected in the mirror when he'd leaned against the doorframe to take it. You remember turning around and waving him off with a laugh, but he sat with you in the bathroom while you finished your makeup, watching you from the edge of the tub with admiring eyes.

Your eyes caught on the title of the post, which just read "glitter glue drinker" and that made you laugh loudly. A couple of his friends comments only made it worse, one of them reading: "she lookz like it." Rodrick's face was lit up with glee as he watched you laugh, effectively giving your stamp of approval, and he was visibly relieved.

"That's cute." You offered him, leaning down over his shoulder to kiss his cheek, though he kept you there long enough to snag a longer kiss on the lips, and he tasted like a tootsie roll.

[skzophreniic]

Miss Possessive

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 when someone else eyes your man at the Fendi afterparty

featuring: Christopher Bahng x AFAB reader

warnings: suggestive

notes: kinda late but idc lol. inspired by Miss Possessive by Tate McCrae.

The Fendi afterparty was in full swing—golden lights reflecting off champagne glasses, designer-clad elites laughing too loud, music thrumming beneath the conversations of Hollywood’s most coveted faces. It was the kind of place where power hummed in the air, where influence was measured in glances and whispers.

Chris had his arm around your waist, his fingers tracing mindless patterns against the silk of your dress. He was effortlessly charming, flashing that dimpled smile at executives and fellow artists alike, his Australian lilt melting smoothly into conversation. You loved him like this—glowing, confident, in his element.

His eyes light up when he spots somebody in the distance, his grip loosening on your hip.

“Gonna go say hi to someone real quick,” Chris murmured close to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “Come with me?”

You glanced up at him, catching the excitement in his expression. He lived for moments like this—connecting, networking, floating effortlessly through rooms filled with people who mattered. And you loved seeing him like this, loved knowing how easily he fit into this world.

But right now? You weren’t in the mood to entertain small talk.

“You go ahead,” you said, offering a small smile. “I’ll wait here.”

Chris hesitated for a fraction of a second, his fingers grazing your side like he was debating whether to push. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave your waist one last squeeze before slipping away, weaving through the crowd with an ease that came naturally to him.

You swirled the champagne in your glass, watching from a distance as Chris greeted the man with an easy smile, his shoulders relaxed, his charm effortless. He was always like this at events—engaging, magnetic, impossible to ignore.

And neither was she.

Standing just a little too close to the man Chris was talking to, her arm looped loosely through his, yet her gaze was fixed elsewhere. Fixed on Chris.

You noticed it immediately—the way her lashes fluttered as she watched him, the way her lips curved, not in polite acknowledgment but something softer, something indulgent. She was interested. Not in the man beside her, the one she was presumably here with, but in yours.

The realization settled over you like ice water, sharp and immediate. You’d seen this before—too many times, in too many rooms just like this. Women who thought their status or their beauty somehow made them untouchable, that their interest was a gift, not an intrusion.

She wasn’t even trying to be discreet about it.

You stayed quiet, simply watching, your expression unreadable as Chris continued his conversation, seemingly oblivious. He laughed at something the man said, dimples flashing, and you didn’t miss the way her lips parted slightly, like she was already imagining what it would be like to taste that smile.

Bold.

Your fingers curled around the stem of your glass, the cool surface grounding you. You weren’t the type to make a scene, weren’t the type to claw at Chris’s arm like a warning. Your confidence ran deeper than that.

Chris, as if sensing your gaze, glanced over his shoulder then, his expression softening when he saw you. His eyes lingered, and for a moment, the entire party seemed to fade into background noise.

Then, just as quickly, he was saying his goodbyes, excusing himself from the conversation. You didn’t miss the way she watched him go, her lips pressing together like she was debating something.

Too late.

Chris was already making his way back to you, his attention exactly where it should be. Where it had always been.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low as he slipped an arm around your waist again, reclaiming the space that had never been hers to take.

You let out a quiet hum, lifting your glass to your lips, your gaze flickering past him for only a second—long enough to see her still watching, her expression carefully composed but not nearly careful enough.

Chris followed your gaze, and something in his expression shifted. Understanding dawned, slow and steady, before amusement danced in his eyes. He huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head as he turned back to you.

“You know,” he murmured, leaning in so only you could hear, “you don’t have to pretend you’re not annoyed.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Who said I was annoyed?”

Chris grinned, giving your waist a squeeze. “You’ve got that look,” he teased, voice full of knowing. “The one where you’re pretending not to care, but you’re already making up ways to subtly ruin her night.”

You exhaled a soft laugh, finally turning your full attention back to him. “She was looking at you like she wanted to take a bite.”

Chris let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he pulled back just enough to look at you properly. “You do realize that was his wife, right?”

You barely blinked, lifting your glass to your lips. “And?”

Chris grinned. “And maybe she was just being friendly.”

You arched a brow, unimpressed. “Chris. She was practically undressing you with her eyes.”

His dimples flashed as he grinned wider, but before he could say anything, you tilted your head, considering. “Or,” you mused, voice dripping with amusement, “maybe they’re into that sort of thing.”

Chris choked.

You watched with no small amount of satisfaction as a flush crept up his neck, his usual effortless confidence flickering for just a second. “What—” He cleared his throat, shifting slightly. “You think—”

You shrugged, all faux nonchalance. “Wouldn’t be the first time a couple tried to recruit you.”

Chris groaned, tipping his head back dramatically. “Jesus. Don’t remind me.”

You smirked behind your champagne glass, watching as he rubbed a hand down his face like he was trying to physically erase the memory.

“What was it that one guy said to you? Something about how he and his girl would ‘love to explore your energy’?”

Chris visibly shuddered. “I am begging you to never repeat that sentence again.”

You laughed, letting your fingers trail along the nape of his neck. His skin was warm, the heat creeping up from his collar, and you couldn’t resist the way he reacted to you, how easy it was to pull him in when you wanted to.

You glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of her again. She was still watching—her gaze dipping once more, as if mapping out his body, as if picturing all the ways she might get closer. Bold, but ultimately useless.

Chris was already here, with you.

You decided to prove the point.

With deliberate slowness, you let your hand slide lower, fingers pressing into the small of his back as you leaned into him, your lips grazing just beneath his ear.

“You know,” you murmured, voice soft enough that only he could hear, “if I was annoyed, I’d have a much better way of handling it than ruining her night.”

Chris inhaled sharply, and you felt the way his body tensed under your touch. His grip flexed on your waist before settling firm, almost possessive. “Yeah?” he muttered, voice lower now, rougher.

You let your lips brush the edge of his jaw, just for a second, just enough. “Mmhmm.”

Chris exhaled slowly, his hand shifting—sliding down, fingers pressing into your hip in a way that felt like both a warning and a plea

His fingers dug into your hip, just enough to make his point. “Careful,” he murmured, voice rough at the edges. “You keep this up, and we’re leaving this party early.”

You smirked, entirely unbothered by the threat. “What a shame that would be,” you mused, dragging your fingers just barely under the hem of his blazer. “Missing out on all this networking.”

Chris exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip flexing again—like he was reminding himself where you were, who was watching. But his eyes darkened, and you knew he wasn’t entirely in control of himself anymore.

You had him.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his fingers slid just a little lower, his palm pressing flush against the curve of your hip. His body shifted, subtly angling you away from the rest of the room, from prying eyes, but you caught it—the way she was still watching, her expression unreadable, her lips pressed into a careful line.

You smiled. Slow. Sweet. Possessive in a way that didn’t require theatrics.

And then, just to seal it, you leaned up, brushing your lips against the shell of Chris’s ear, making damn sure she saw the way he shivered.

“Baby,” he muttered, like a warning, like a plea.

You pressed your smile against his jaw. “Mmhmm?”

Chris exhaled through his nose again, steadying himself, and when he finally pulled back to look at you, his eyes burned. His amusement was still there, but now it was tinged with something else, something hotter.

“I’m getting you another drink,” he said, his voice low, steady. But his fingers lingered on your waist, like he didn’t actually want to step away.

You tilted your head, gaze steady. “I don’t need another drink.”

Chris huffed out something that was almost a laugh, but his fingers flexed against your waist like he was hanging onto his last shred of composure. His jaw tightened, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and then he shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“No,” he said, voice rough. “You definitely do.”

You arched a brow, lips twitching. “Oh? And why’s that?”

Chris ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose as he took another step away. “Because,” he said, voice rougher than before, “if I stand here for one more second, I’m gonna forget we’re at a party.”

You smirked, watching the tension in his shoulders, the way he practically forced himself to step back. He needed the space—needed to pull himself together, to break the spell you’d so effortlessly cast over him.

Chris was disciplined, always the one in control, always the level-headed leader who could charm his way through any situation. But right now? Right now, his composure was cracking at the edges, and you loved knowing you were the reason why.

He cleared his throat, dragging a hand down his face before glancing toward the bar like it was some kind of lifeline. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered, already turning.

You didn’t stop him. You didn’t need to. Because the second he put even a step of distance between you, he hesitated—just for a fraction of a second—before shaking his head, like he was trying to clear you from his system.

You didn’t look away.

Not at first.

No, you let her stare, let her sit with it, let her marinate in the realization that whatever fleeting fantasy she’d entertained—whatever sliver of hope she’d foolishly clung to—had never stood a chance. Because this? This wasn’t a maybe. This wasn’t an opening.

Chris had already made his choice.

So you lifted your glass that Chris had just handed you, slow and deliberate, meeting her gaze with something just a touch too sweet, just a shade too knowing. And then—because you could—you raised it in a silent toast.

A petty, razor-sharp little acknowledgment.

I see you.

Her expression barely flickered, but you caught it—the subtle shift, the way her fingers curled slightly at her side, the way her lips pressed together in something that wasn’t quite a smile. She didn’t like being caught. Didn’t like that you knew exactly what she had been thinking.

Didn’t like that she had lost before she’d even started.

You took a slow sip of your champagne, savoring the moment, before finally, lazily, turning your attention away. Because that was the thing, wasn’t it? She didn’t matter enough to keep looking at.

Chris did.

And Chris? He was watching the entire thing unfold, his gaze flicking between the two of you, amusement flickering beneath something darker.

"You’re insufferable," he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear.

You tilted your head, all innocence. "What ever do you mean?"

Chris let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, but you saw the way his fingers flexed around the glass in his hand, saw the way his jaw tightened as he leaned in, voice just for you.

"That was mean."

You shrugged, unfazed. "That was mercy."

Chris huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head, but the way his fingers curled around your waist said he wasn’t entirely unaffected. His grip was firm—just shy of possessive, like he needed to ground himself in your presence, like he needed to remind himself that no amount of fleeting attention from anyone else could touch what was his.

"You’re a piece of work, you know that?" he murmured, eyes still dancing with amusement.

You smiled, slow and sweet. "And yet, here you are."

Chris exhaled sharply through his nose, his dimples flashing as he tipped his glass to his lips. "Yeah," he admitted, voice low, warm. "Here I am."

And that was it, wasn’t it?

You didn’t need to stake your claim, didn’t need to sink your claws into him in some desperate display of ownership. Because Chris wasn’t looking at anyone else. He wasn’t thinking about anyone else.

And the way his hand slid lower, fingers pressing into the small of your back like he couldn’t help himself? The way his eyes softened, darkened, like you were the only thing keeping him tethered in a room full of noise and flashing lights?

That said everything.

So you let the moment settle between you, let the warmth of the champagne hum through your veins as Chris traced absentminded circles against your hip, his fingers slow, lazy.

His hand slid lower, a warning, a promise, before he took a slow step back, eyes still locked onto yours. "We should go," he murmured, voice rough. "Before I forget how to behave."

You hummed, pretending to consider it, even as your body leaned into his touch like it already knew the answer. “That bad, huh?”

Chris let out a low chuckle, his fingers tightening against your waist, his breath fanning warm against your cheek as he dipped closer—just close enough to make your pulse stutter. “You have no idea.”

You knew exactly what was running through his head, how tightly he was holding the last threads of his composure, how close he was to losing the game he always played so well.

So you tipped your chin up, gaze steady, letting your lips just barely graze his jaw as you murmured, “Then what are we still doing here?”

Chris exhaled sharply, like he was physically restraining himself, before shaking his head with a breathy laugh. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, already slipping his hand into yours, already leading you through the crowd with a singular purpose.

You let him. You followed, matching his pace, feeling the heat of his palm against yours, feeling the weight of his gaze every time he glanced down at you like he was already thinking ten steps ahead.

[motorsportbarbie13]

Post It - LN4

when lando stumbles upon a random tiktok of a pretty american influencer, he can't stop himself from sliding into her DMs. what happens next is more than both of them ever bargained for.

warnings: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT. (spoiler alert, it's not) (i blame @lestapiastrisgirl. She’s a bad influence 🤭) no warnings really, i just needed to have some soft boyfriend coded lando in my life again after how dirty i did him in 'aftermath'. ENJOY THE NEW SERIES MY BABIES! 🫶🏻 pairing: lando norris x influencer!reader word count: 3.7k words (plus SMAU posts)

Lando should have been paying attention. He should have been paying attention to Jack Whitehall standing up on stage, making jokes at Max and George’s expense. He absolutely should not have been using the down time between livery reveals to stalk your social media profiles but here he was. It wasn’t his fault trying to figure you out was way more interesting than anything the FIA and this stupidly awkward night had to offer. 

He had been scrolling his FYP earlier in the day while McLaren comms staff had bustled around the Hilton conference room, his attention pulled away from the boring media briefing Zak and Andrea were trying to get him to care about, when you had popped up on his screen. It was an innocent video, one that he usually would have flipped right on by but something had his thumb pausing, hovering over the screen instead of swiping away. 

You were in well lit hallway, lip syncing to that new Gracie Abrams song that was all over the place looking like you didn’t have a care in the world. Your smile was infectious as you held eye contact with the camera, arms thrown to your sides as you sang your heart out. It looked like you were about to go somewhere, a gray woolen overcoat tugged over your shoulders as a pink and white knit jumper peaked out from underneath. 

It was only when Oscar had asked him how many times he was going to listen to that thirty seconds of song that Lando realized he’d been watching your video for an embarrassing length of time. Turning crimson, Lando had quickly favorited the video to come back to later and closed out the app. 

He’d been caught up in preparations for this stupid F1 75 event for the rest of the evening but the moment he’d had a break, he was back stalking your socials. Your Instagram was conveniently linked to your TikTok account so it wasn't hard and the moment Lando started scrolling, he was hooked.

yourusername posted

909,102 likes liked by lando, yourbff, hannahstjohn, and others yourusername lots to catch up on... user0298 body is teeeeeea user1112 that gray dress tho! where is it from??? >>>yourusername @/aritzia!!! lando 🔥🔥🔥 (liked by author) >>>user0200 landooooo what are you doing here??? >>>user555 first in the likes too. he was QUICK

The Monegasque sun was blindingly bright, reflecting off the pristine white of Lando’s apartment balcony. He was trying to enjoy a rare moment of peace, something that he’d miss when the season started up in two weeks. Right now though, he had been back from testing in Bahrain for a few days and was leaving for Australia sometime next week. This was the last weekend of peace and quiet he’d have until summer break.

An insistent buzz shatters the quiet calm that he’d cocooned himself in, his phone blinking to life. He glanced at the screen. Rich. His personal PR manager that he’d hired after his last messy breakup to help with his image. 

“What is it, Rich?” Lando sighs. 

“Lando, we need to talk about this weekend.” Rich’s voice was sharp, a glaring contrast to the relaxed atmosphere of Lando’s apartment. 

“What about this weekend?” He asks, a knot forming in his stomach. Lando knew where this was going. 

“Allegra.” Rich says, his voice bright with faux enthusiasm. “She’s coming to Monaco this weekend. We need some content before the start of the season. Really amp up the exposure before you get too busy.” 

Allegra. Or Allie as she insisted Lando call her in private, but always Allegra in public. She was also managed by Rich, who was the one that had introduced them last year with the sole purpose of having them hit it off and start dating. When that hadn’t materialized, Rich had started meddling, sending her to events that he knew Lando would be at, having her come to Monaco and follow him around like a lost puppy. 

It had worked though. The rumors started swirling and before he knew it, Lando and Allie were rumored to be dating. He had never confirmed the relationship, always insisting that he was single and Allie had followed suit, coyly grinning in interviews when the model had been asked specifically about him. He hadn’t fought it though. Maybe he was a coward or maybe he just liked the attention, but it had certainly brought a certain degree of recognition to his name in the months that he had been linked to her. He never confirmed it but he never denied it either. 

And then he had met you. 

“No.” Lando says flatly, cutting him off. “Nope. I’m done with this.” 

“Done?” On the other end of the line, Rich sputters. “What do you mean, ‘done’? Think of your brand, your image! You have a merch drop happening in a few weeks and a rebrand with Quadrant! You need this attention.” 

“I don’t need her to bring me attention.” Lando scoffs. “I’m tired of playing this game. I’m tired of Allie. She’s…she’s weird, Rich. And this whole thing is a joke. I know you’ve seen the gossip pages laughing at me. Laughing at her. I’ve had enough.” 

“Lando.” Rich tuts, his tone taking on that of someone scolding a small child. The heat rises in Lando’s cheeks as he stands, pacing the balcony. “She’s a social media powerhouse. She brings in millions of impressions. People love talking about her, speculating about if she’s with you or not. This is a business.” 

“Business?” Lando laughs, cold and bitter. “This is a manufactured relationship, Rich. It’s fake and it’s draining. I don’t want her here. I don’t want her anywhere near me anymore. Either you tell her I’m done or I will, you choose.” 

“You’re being irrational. This is a PR strategy and it’s working! We’re getting the numbers, the attention! It’s everything you hired me to do!” 

Lando drags his hand over his face, scrubbing at the migraine that he feels forming behind his eyes. “I don’t care about the numbers.” He says tightly, his mind flickering to you and the way you’ve been a bit distant this week. “I care about my sanity. I care about being genuine and this? This thing with her? That is the opposite of genuine.” 

“You’re throwing away a huge opportunity.” Rich warns, frustration sneaking into his voice. “This is so unprofessional.” 

“Unprofessional?” Lando shouts, his anger getting the better of him. “You’re the one being unprofessional. You’re treating me like a product, not a person. The only thing you care about is your fucking paycheck, nothing else.” Lando’s chest heaves, his breath coming in short spurts. 

“Lando, calm down -” 

“No.” Lando spits. “No, I won’t calm down. I’m done with this. I’m done with you and I’m done with Allie. This whole charade is over.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, trying to control his rage. “You’re fired, Rich.” 

He slams the phone down, not even giving Rich the opportunity to respond. The abrupt silence amplifies the sound of his pounding heart as he sits down again. He stares out at the glittering expanse of the Mediterranean, the anger still simmering within him. He feels a strange mix of relief and anxiety. He had just burned a big bridge but it was a bridge he had never wanted to cross in the first place. He knew there would be consequences but for the first time in a long time, Lando felt like he was in control. 

Now, if only he could get you to return his calls. 

You thought you’d been prepared for the activity of the paddock. Hannah had spent enough time during the flight over telling you what to expect but the crowds in Shanghai were nothing short of overwhelming. The smell of engine oil and popcorn permeated the air, a strange mixture that tickled your nose in a slightly unpleasant way. You tried to calm the anxiety that was settling deep in your chest, the tight constricting feeling pulling at your ribs in a way that had you desperately wanting to go back to the hotel room. 

You knew it was strange, someone with as much anxiety and issues with crowds being an influencer like you were but most of the time you had control over it. You had asked Hannah so many questions about what to expect but nothing could have prepared you for the way the crowds crushed in on you even in the paddock. 

Liam had come to the track early to meet with his engineers before the practice and sprint qualifying. and Hannah had been left to your own devices. The crowds were one thing, you knew you’d get used to them eventually and that you just had to work your way through the panic but there was something else causing your shoulders to hitch up tightly towards your ears and your jaw tighten with every flash of orange you saw: Lando. 

It had been a few months since he slid into your DMs and at first is had been fun. He was charming, texting you nearly all day with all sorts of questions and banter, FaceTiming you while you were curled up in bed in your Boston apartment, talking about the fast lives you both lived. It was intoxicating getting attention from someone like Lando. His attention felt like the sun, all warm and welcoming. You knew there was chemistry there but you lived in Boston and he split is time between London and Monaco. You had expected him to invite you out to see him soon or at least bring up meeting somewhere half way.

But then the pictures had surfaced online. 

Lando walking around the busiest part of Monaco with his best friend Max, Max’s girlfriend Pietra and a blonde model named Allegra. It was so painfully clear he was with her from the shots of him driving her around in one of his many cars three weekends in a row.

You felt so stupid. Getting with a guy that was clearly comfortable being publicly seen on a double date was a hard no, you had more respect for yourself and Allegra to even touch that kind of drama. Of course, there was an endless debate on if they were even together or not, it didn’t take much to find the online gossip pages that spent a lot of time trying to figure out if they were an item. Lando had never publicly confirmed the relationship and neither had Allegra, both insisting they were just friend and Lando was single. 

But the pictures were hard to deny. 

So you had ghosted him. 

You didn’t want to be drug into the drama that seemed to surround the model, not with how well your content was doing lately. You had a huge following in the states and were starting to get attention internationally. You knew the last thing your PR manager would want to see was stories about you plastered all over the gossip pages. You had worked too hard to cultivate a wholesome reputation to be drug into a love triangle controversy, even if it ended up being manufactured by the press. You walked a fine line between wanting to be talked about and wanting to avoid being laughed at.

So when Hannah, one of your best friends from the influencer world, had invited you to tag along with her to the Chinese Grand Prix in April, you had hesitated. No one knew about you and Lando talking, not even your best friends. Sure, Lando had followed you and commented on a few of your posts but everyone chalked that up to you being friends with Hannah and Lando’s reputation to hit on pretty girls whenever he was active on social media. It hadn’t gained a ton of attention so you were able to pretty much ignore it.

But you couldn’t turn down Hannah’s invitation without raising some sort of suspicion. China had been on your bucket list of places to visit since you were little and you had enough miles saved up this year to be able make the long flight in a lie-flat first class seat with to your group of friends. You really had no excuse, so in the end you had agreed. 

But now that you were here, the possibility of running into Lando in the flesh after you had ghosted him hanging heavy over your head and the crowds pressing in, you were totally regretting your life choices. 

“You okay?” Hannah’s voice breaks through your racing thoughts, pulling you back to the present. 

“What?” You stutter, trying to bring your focus back to where you were in the moment. 

“Are you okay?” Your friend asks softly, eyeing you like she knows something is going on but can’t figure out what. “You just seem a little…tense.” 

You reach up to pull your hair off your neck, suddenly feeling like your skin is just a little too tight for the rest of your body. “I’m fine, just a little overwhelmed. This place is a lot.” 

Hannah’s eyes soften. She’s well aware of your anxiety and how you sometimes struggle with crowds. While she doesn’t struggle with the same issues, if there’s one thing you appreciate about your friend its that she has an uncanny ability to read your moods and empathize with you when it matters most.

“I know, but you get used to it quick. Liam has some engineering meetings before practice so he’s busy for another hour or so. Do you want to go hang out in hospitality? Get cooled down before practice?” 

You adjust your sunglasses on your nose before nodding, “Yeah, that sounds good. I’m sorry, you don’t have to stick around with me all day, I know you want to be with Liam.” 

Hannah waves a hand, dismissing your concern with one movement, “Stop that. That man gets so locked in before he gets into the car, he probably forgets I exist. I told him I’d be in the garage for practice but we’re free until then. Come on, we can get some content for TikTok. Didn’t you say you wanted to do a Chinese travel vlog?” 

Suddenly, a blur of green and yellow catches your attention from on your left. A scooter, driven by a distracted man in a green racing suit, was flying down the sidewalk at breakneck speed headed straight for you. He was going so fast you didn’t have enough time to react once you registered what was about to happen. 

You shut your eyes, bracing for impact, as a startled gasp tumbles off your lips. But the impact doesn’t come when you expect it as a strong set of hands pulls you out of the path of the scooter. The man on the scooter continues on, zipping down the sidewalk without so much as an apology as you stumble back, straight into the arms of the person that just saved you from being paddock road kill. The body is warm, muscled and the set of hands go straight to your hips, steadying you when you fight to maintain your balance. 

“Oh my god!” Hannah shrieks as you struggle out of the person’s embrace, spinning around to see who you had just collapsed into. 

“Jesus Christ, thank…” The words die in the back of your throat when you see the papaya and black race suit of your savior. 

“You.” The British accent that you’d spent the last few weeks trying to forget sends shivers down your spine. 

Shit. 

“Oh. Hi, Lando.” You say sheepishly, lifting your sunglasses off your face so you can make eye contact with the driver. 

“Oh hi Lando?” Hannah sputters, clearly confused. “Do you two know each other?” 

“No.” You reply at the same time Lando says “Yes.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to figure out if it would be bad for your reputation if you punched him. Hannah’s eyes bounce back and forth between you and Lando, who is standing there looking just as confused as she is. If you’re not mistaken, there’s also a touch of hurt that flickers in his eyes as he looks you up and down. 

“Are you okay?” Lando asks, breaking the tension. 

Your eyes dip to your waist, where Lando’s hand still rests heavily on your hip. When he notices he’s still holding you, he pulls his arm back quickly, running it through his curls trying to look casual while his brows dip together, confusion still clearly settled on his handsome features. 

“Um. Yeah, I am. Thank you, I was almost roadkill.” You laugh, but it comes out too shaky to be taken seriously. 

Hannah crosses her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed as she tries to figure out the weird tension that has settled over the two of you. 

“So, ‘yes' you two know each other but ‘no’ you don’t?” Hannah raises an eyebrow, clearly not willing to let this go. 

You shoot Lando a look that could curdle milk. “It’s…complicated.” You mumble, avoiding Hannah’s gaze. 

“Complicated how?” Hanna presses, her curiosity piqued. 

Lando shits his weight, a nervous energy radiating off of him. “We were talking for a bit.”

“Talking? Like, flirting talking?” Hannah turns to you and you swear you see a bit of hurt in her eyes. “And you didn’t tell me?” 

Guilt washes over you. You hadn’t really meant not to tell your friend, it just had never come up. “It was nothing.” You say quickly. Out of the corner of your eye you see Lando wince and your heart catches. “Just some DMs, it fizzled out after a while.” 

“Fizzled out?” Lando scoffs, his frown deepening. “You ghosted me.” 

“I’m sure you had your hands full with that other blonde to miss me that much, Lan.” You bite back, voice sharp. 

Lando’s brows furrow, “Other bl…" He pauses, the dots seemingly connecting in hsi mind suddenly. "You mean Allie? What does she have to do with you and me?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” You say with a shrug. “You looked pretty busy with her in Monaco before the season started. I just assumed you didn’t have time for me.” You try your best to sound as nonchalant as possible but you can’t keep the anger from slipping into your voice. The fact that he has a cute little nickname for her burrows under your skin more than it should.

Deep down you know you had zero claim over him, so being this angry feels over the top. You know you’re overreacting. You had never even met Lando in person before this moment, so why was the jealousy burning through your bloodstream so intense? 

Hannah’s eyes dart between you and Lando, her expression a mix of confusion something else you couldn’t place. “Okay, so this is a bit more intense than I expected.” She raises her hands in surrender. “You know what? I think I’m going to go check on Liam. He’s probably wondering where I am.” 

She gives you a knowing look, a look that says ‘I’ll let you sort this out but I expect a full rundown of what the fuck just happened here later tonight.’.

“Maybe you two should talk, alone. Just try not to kill each other.” 

With that, Hannah turns on her heel and disappears towards the Red Bull garages, leaving you and Lando standing awkwardly in the middle of the bustling paddock. The noise of the crowd presses in on you, amping up your already high anxiety and filling the silence that stretches between you. 

Lando looks at you, his expression a mixture of confusion and frustration. He digs his hands deep into his pockets, unsure of where to go from here. The absolute last person he’d expected to see here today was you. Finding out you were mad at him just when he had made the decision that you wanted nothing to do with him and he needed to move on was a little overwhelming. He’d been hurt when you’d stopped returning his messages and answering his calls. Frustrated that you hadn’t given him an answer when he asked you what was wrong. And then the season had started and he couldn't handle it all. It still ate at him at night, the fact that he had allowed you to slip out of his fingers, especially since firing Rich and ending things with Allie.

So maybe this was the universe giving him a second chance.

“So,” He starts, voice low. “We’re just going to pretend like nothing happened?” 

You throw your arms out to your side, exasperated sigh falling from your lips. “What was I supposed to think, Lando? I open up my Instagram one morning to see a shit ton of pap photos of you and her, the day after you and I spent almost five hours on FaceTime together!” 

Lando cards his fingers through his curls, “I can explain that.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m sure you can.”  

Deep in Lando’s pocket, his phone chimes. Reluctantly he pulls it out, checking the new text message from Sophie, his press officer. “Fuck. I’ve got to go get in the car.” He sighs, scrubbing his large hand over his face. “Listen, can you please give me a chance to explain?” 

You cross your arms over your chest, mirroring Hannah’s stance from just minutes before. Your first instinct is to tell him to fuck all the way off, you’ve been too careful with your reputation to be drug into any sort of drama that that girl seems to bring. Lando gives you a look though, his green blue eyes pleading with you and you’re all but powerless against it. 

“Come on.” He coaxes, reaching out to brush his fingertips against your bare arm. You ignore the riot of goosebumps he leaves in his wake. “You’re going to look at me and tell me you didn’t come all the way to China, to a place where you knew I would absolutely be, not hoping to at least run into me?” 

“Bold of you to assume that you even cross my mind anymore, Norris.” You snip back but your words hold no bite to them and you both know it. 

Now it’s Lando’s turn to roll his eyes. “Come on, baby.” Your traitorous heart stammers but you mange an indignant look as a reaction to the nickname. “I’m done with race stuff around dinner time, let me take you out somewhere nice and we can talk. Please?” 

Again with the puppy eyes. This was going to be a problem. 

“Fine.” You huff after a moment. “But don’t make me regret this, Lan.” 

The biggest smile you’ve ever seen crosses Lando’s face at your agreement. He reaches out, catching your waist in his hands, pulling you in for a hug. Neither of you notice the cameras pointed in your direction. 

“You won’t. I promise.” He murmurs in your ear before dropping a chaste kiss on your cheek. 

You don’t wipe if off. 

Grinning like a fool, Lando spins on his heel before bustling off towards the McLaren garages. He’s about 30 feet away when his head swivels back, his gaze instantly finding yours. He grins again, liking that you’d been watching him go. 

yourusername posted

602,928 likes liked by lando, hannahstjohn, redbullracing, and others yourusername Boston >>> Shanghai LETS GO hannahstjohn pretty girl! so glad you made the trip with meeeee user0029 my fave influencer and my fave sport?! YES PLEASE user928 i wish these brands would stop inviting random influencers to races and get some REAL FANS there instead >>>user9299 she's there with hannah, liam's girlfriend. just say you're jealous next time. user0299 ok but i need to know...is she a mclaren girlie or red bull??? >>>user454 she gives me ferrari vibes user223 lando in the likes again, huhhhhhh

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[satori-runa]

—Past the barrier

Summary: You try to communicate with your new friend but end up with more than expected.

Tags: Fluff, Mr Crawling is just a big puppy

Words: 0,6k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

It had been a while since Mr. Crawling joined you in your search for the elusive exit. The strange, puppy-like ghost had been a mysterious yet oddly comforting presence at your side. Over time, your casual companionship turned into something deeper, though you couldn’t quite pinpoint when you first realized you had feelings for him.

Your interactions with Mr. Crawling were always endearing. He would sometimes try to teach you words in his own funny way, and in turn, you would teach him about the little things he seemed curious about: The words you use, the touches you like, or how to fold paper into a crane. His face would light up, head tilting like a confused puppy as he observed you with eager interest. You hadn’t expected it, but you began to notice that he would often mimic your actions, his tall form reflecting your movements with an innocence that made you smile.

The language barrier between you two was daunting, so you started using hand signs to communicate. You were determined to get your message across as clearly as possible, fingers moving slowly and carefully. The first time you tried it, however, Mr. Crawling simply watched you with a wide smile before attempting to copy your signs. His ghostly fingers moved in a clumsy imitation, and you both ended up staring at each other in confusion.

A small giggle escaped your lips, and Mr. Crawling’s face softened as if he understood your amusement. He tilted his head, then mimicked the sound of your laugh with a faint, high-pitched chuckle of his own. It was a simple moment, but you realized then just how fond you had become of him.

One day, while taking a brief rest in a quiet corner, you decided to teach him a new hand sign. You carefully held up your hand, forming a simple gesture for "together." It felt like a fitting sign to share with him, a small way to show your gratitude for his company. But instead of copying your motion like he usually did, Mr. Crawling paused, his smile growing.

Slowly, he reached out, his rough fingers brushing against yours. He didn’t mimic the sign this time. Instead, his cold fingers intertwined with yours, clasping your hand in a way that was unmistakably tender. The unexpected gesture made your breath hitch. His grip was delicate, almost hesitant, as if he was worried you might pull away.

You glanced up at his face, expecting to find confusion there, but instead, you saw something far softer. His expression had lost its usual puppy-like curiosity: there was a sincerity in his expression now, a look that felt both innocent and full of yearning. He tilted his head, almost as if asking if this was okay, if you felt the same unspoken connection he did. “You okay? You like hand?”

Your heart fluttered, warmth spreading through you despite the cold touch of his hand. You squeezed his fingers gently, offering a small nod and a smile. At that moment, no words or hand signs were needed. He seemed to understand, a soft, relieved noise escaping his lips as he relaxed against you, holding your hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You leaned closer, your shoulders brushing, and he mimicked the action with a excited, bubbly hum. The two of you stayed like that for a long while, fingers intertwined, sharing a quiet moment in a place that seemed devoid of any other warmth but the one growing between you.

Before you knew it, he spoke up again. His words were easy to understand this time.

“I like you.”

[stellarsecrets86]

All About Venus In Natal Chart

{PS: These are my own interpretations. For entertainment purposes only. Have Fun💚.}

[Venus is the planet of love, beauty, harmony, relationships, values, and pleasure. Its placement in a birth chart offers insight into how one expresses affection, what one values in relationships, and one's approach to aesthetics and enjoyment. Venus demonstrates through which way you love, what you expect from a partner, and your style in romance. It rules your artistic nature, taste, and the way you appreciate beauty around you. Venus indicates something that is pleasurable to you, your values, and your attitude to possessions. This planet possesses grace, tact, and social skills.]

Venus in Aries

They  are bold, passionate, and fearless when it comes to matters of the heart. These individuals are driven by the thrill of the chase and are drawn into dynamic, energetic, independent partners. They enter their love connections with great enthusiasm and sometimes may get a little too spontaneous, as they prefer leading roles in all affairs. Their charm can be magnetic, while directness might be refreshing; often they appear as impatient and impulsive.The gestures are grand, quick, and heartfelt, though they may fight with consistency over time. For them, freedom in love is a quintessential factor, and they thrive in relationships where they get to be themselves. In creative interests, boldness usually shines through in innovative or competitive artistic expressions. The passion is one of the high sides, but they have to learn patience and balance for the endurance of long-term connections.Aesthetically, they are drawn to bright colors, energetic designs, and anything that reflects their fiery personality. Their confidence is contagious, often inspiring others to embrace their own passions. However, they might struggle with possessiveness, especially when their need for excitement is unmet. Growth comes from understanding that love, just like fire, needs careful tending to thrive.

Venus in the 1st House

Venus in the 1st House gifts them with an instinctive, gracious charm and beauty. This placement often makes them well-liked from the first meeting, since people generally see them as warm, approachable, and charismatic. They have a rather sophisticated taste in personal style and aesthetics, and it becomes another source of expressing themselves.They look for balance and harmony in a relationship. Admirers are easy to attract, and they fare well in relationships where they are built up. Their instinctive need to please could lead to over-accommodating, and that can bring boundaries into question. But again, their politeness and graciousness make them good in conflict resolution and reconciliation.They are inspired by beauty and harmony, often in fields of art, fashion, design, or performance. Love and relationships deeply affect their life as these themes help develop a sense of self and career direction. Of course, they do appreciate admiration from others, but the key to their growth would be toward self-love and inner acceptance.

                Venus at 1°, 13° and 25°

                    Venus in these degrees emphasizes pioneering love. These individuals are adventurous romantics who value courage and directness in partners. Their relationships often begin with an intense initial spark. They are the leaders in love. They often guide their partners emotionally or inspire them creatively, bringing a dynamic, take-charge energy to relationships. Magnetic and fiery, these individuals attract partners who admire their independence and boldness. They thrive in relationships where both parties encourage personal growth.

Venus in Taurus

Venus in Taurus is earthy, sensual, and attached to the physical world. Individuals with this placement want stability, comfort, and loyalty in a love relationship. They express love steadily and patiently, often creating long-lasting and profound connections over time. Their romantic nature is expressed through touching, giving thoughtful gifts, cooking for loved ones, or simply creating cozy environments.Sensuality is a hallmark of this placement, and they usually have an immense love for beauty, art, and luxury. While loyalty is one of their great strengths, at times they may resist changes or become overly possessive in relationships. Quite often, creative abilities are realized through hand work: craftsmanship, gardening, and cooking.They are attracted to earthy types, the natural beauty, and unobtrusive elegance. In love, they need consistency; they feel most comfortable when their relationships are secure and can be predictable. Growth for them involves embracing flexibility and learning that change is part of love and life, too.

Venus in the 2nd House

Venus in the 2nd house, on the other hand, connects love with self-esteem and worldly possessions. People with this sign feel secure in relationships that can offer them emotional and economic stability. They have a natural ability to attract abundance and may experience good fortune in financial matters-particularly when they align their passions with their work.In love, they are loyal, dependable, and deeply appreciative of their partners. They express their affection through tangible gestures, such as giving gifts or creating luxurious experiences. However, they must avoid the tendency to equate material possessions with emotional satisfaction or self-worth.They can easily combine functionality with aesthetics, and often find much success in interior design, designing jewelry, or even as a chef. They truly appreciate the aesthetic of their environment and like to be surrounded by things that give them comfort and joy. Growth for them is learning to experience self-worth without attachment to material possessions.

                Venus at 2°, 14°, and 26°

                    Venus in these degrees signifies a deeply rooted love for nature and beauty. These individuals often seek relationships that feel grounded and stable.A powerful creative energy emerges here. These people often possess a natural talent for art, music, or design, and their relationships reflect their appreciation for harmony.They are intensely loyal and may have a protective instinct in relationships. Their love is enduring, and they cherish meaningful commitments.

Venus in Gemini

Venus in Gemini is curious, and mentally stimulating. These individuals crave variety and mental engagement in relationships, often being drawn to partners who can keep up with their quick wit and love for conversation. They are natural charming others with their humor and playful energy.To them, romance is natural, and where their intellect is kept interested, there they will be thrilled. Highly adaptable in love, they bring excitement and creativity to a relationship.Venus in Gemini obviously shines in creative pursuits somehow related to writing, speaking, and generally anything to do with communication and telling a story. Aesthetically, they like youthful eclectic styles that reflect the dynamic nature of their personalities. Growth for them involves embracing emotional control, learning to stay present in one's relationships, even through times of routine or predictability.

Venus in the 3rd House

Venus in the 3rd house emphasizes grace and eloquence in one's communication. These individuals express love through words-be it mushy letters, deep conversations, or an exchange of intellectual ideas. They are often skilled at diplomacy, using their natural charisma to navigate social interactions with ease.They find themselves drawn to people with whom they share mental stimulation in life and relationships. They just love engaged discussions and might make quite a few acquaintances through one's neighbors, siblings, schoolmates, and friends of the family. Creativity is often poured into writing, teaching or communication. Lively and light-hearted and can lean to wit and humor most readily through artistic expression.Growth would come through learning to share mental stimulation harmoniously with emotional, their relationship needing to be stimulating on every level.

                Venus at 3°, 15°, and 27°

                 Venus in these degrees is curious. These individuals thrive in relationships that feel youthful, deep and dynamic.A natural storyteller, they may express love through words or gestures, often finding joy in shared intellectual pursuits.Quick-witted and adaptable, they attract partners who enjoy their lively conversations and open-mindedness.

Venus in Cancer

Venus in Cancer symbolizes profound attachment, nurturing love, and strong attachment to family and home. Individuals with this placement are caring and empathetic in their relations, often putting their partner's needs before their own. They are sentimental and attach a lot of importance to emotional security, forming bonds that are profound and lasting.Their love language is all about acts of care: cooking meals, creating a cozy home, and offering a listening ear. They seek out partners who can provide stability for them and who share their family values. But their emotional sensitivity can make them moody or fearful of rejection, especially if they feel unappreciated.They would be brilliant in areas involved with nostalgia or the care of others, such as storytelling, culinary arts, or interior design. Their aesthetic will run toward classic, homely, and comforting styles. Growth for them lies in a balance of their nurturing with self-care, making sure emotional needs are met, too.

Venus in the 4th House

Venus in the 4th house reflects a very strong attachment to home, family, and tradition. They find their love and beauty in domestic life and mostly put their energy into making the home warm and hospitable. Relationships are deeply connected with their sense of emotional security, and they thrive in relationships that feel like home.The planets' nurturing nature makes them very caring, and they are attracted to activities that involve building and maintaining a peaceful family life. They may be interested in house decoration or investment in property. In love, they seek deep emotional connections and are happiest with partners who share their love for stability and tradition.They are very generous and giving; however, there is an issue with dependency or perhaps an overly strong need to please their family. The lesson that can be derived is related to a balancing between pleasing themselves and their commitment to others without losing one's identity in that relationship.

                Venus at 4°, 16°, and 28°

                 These individuals value emotional security above all. Their relationships are built on trust and mutual care.Romantic and artistic, they often channel their deep emotions into creative expressions.Highly intuitive, they form deep connections and seek partners who understand their inner world.

Venus in Leo

Venus in Leo is warm, passionate, and dramatic when it comes to love. They give out their affection liberally and many times shower their partners with grand romantic gestures. The thing they want and like in a relationship is admiration; thus, they like being the focus of attention. With magnetic charm, confidence, and flair for drama, this guy naturally attracts people.To them, romance is an art, and they simply adore being in a relationship where they feel special and appreciated. Besides this, their need for recognition sometimes causes friction when they are ignored or undervalued. They are attracted to a partner who can match their enthusiasm and shares their zest for life.They can be very proficient in the performance arts, fashion, and anything that displays their skills. Aesthetic-wise, they are often drawn to styles that are extravagant, plush, and king-like. Growth for them involves learning to balance a need for validation with honest self-love, and understanding what respect means in a mutual relationship.

Venus in the 5th House

Venus in the 5th house amplifies the love, creativity, and self-expression of a person. Individuals with this placement of Venus live life in a playful and romantic manner. Many are drawn to artistic and theatrical pursuits. They simply love to share their passions with other people and thrive under relationships that are fun and inspiring.They are passionate and romantic, usually wearing their hearts on their sleeves. They love the romance of it all and are usually drawn to partners who appreciate their creativity and zest for life. There may be ups and downs in their love life, but they will always remain optimistic about the same and stay enthusiastic in trying to derive joy out of it.They tend to excel in areas that require performing arts, music, or visual design. They surely have a keen sense that evokes beauty and creativity in others by using their vision. Growth for them is really about understanding that love and creativity are as much about giving as receiving, ensuring they stay grounded on the path of happiness.

                Venus at 5°, 17°, and 29°

                Bold and expressive in love. They seek partners who inspire them to be their best and reciprocate their devotion.Artistic and charismatic, they are often drawn to creative outlets and romantic partners who admire their talents.Exudes magnetic confidence in relationships and creative ventures, making them unforgettable lovers and artists.

Venus in Virgo

Venus in Virgo is practical, humble, and detail-oriented in love. These people show their love through acts of service and small gestures; most often, they attach much importance to being useful for their partners. They value stability and are drawn to relationships based on mutual respect and shared values.They are probably not the most expressive people in the world when it comes to showering love in grand dramatic gestures, but their loyalty and dedication scream volumes. They possess keen eyes for detail in noticing the little things within a relationship and thus appreciate such. At times this can be overdone-to be too self or partner-critical.They get attracted towards crafts, writing, or other forms of expression requiring precision and refinement. Their aesthetic taste is subdued and leans toward simple yet elegant designs. Growth for them involves learning to embrace imperfections and focusing on the emotional depth of their connections rather than perfection.

Venus in the 6th House

Venus in the 6th house shows love being expressed through service and routine. They find beauty in the mundane and often seek harmony in their work and relationships. They are committed and practical in love, showing their care mostly through helpful actions rather than words or grand gestures.They attract similar soulmates in relationships who can meet their growth-oriented focus head-on. They are only set to blossom in such relations when mutual support and cooperation in every situation come to the fore. Most probably, a similar approach toward health may extend in their interest in creative living: they especially will enjoy any activities benefiting both their bodies and their minds.While admirable in many respects, that sense of looking out for others should not get in the way of taking one's needs into consideration.The balance they need to learn is to tend the garden of themselves while nurturing and deepening the intimacy of their close relationships.

                Venus at 6°, 18°

                Focused on perfecting relationships. They value commitment and shared goals.Quietly romantic, with an appreciation for small, meaningful gestures. A healer in love, often inspiring their partners to grow and become their best selves.

Venus in Libra

Venus in Libra is the quintessential placement for love, beauty, and harmony. These individuals are charming, diplomatic, and deeply appreciate the aesthetics of life. Relationships are of utmost importance to them, and they often seek balance and equality in their romantic partnerships. They thrive in connections where mutual respect, intellectual harmony, and shared values are present.They can see both sides of an issue and go well mediating conflicts in their relationships. They are just, abhor conflict, and seek to avoid it at all costs. In love, they seek a partner who reflects their need for peace and who values cooperation rather than competition.They're drawn to art, design, and anything that promotes balance and beauty. They innately understand symmetry and often are found in fields such as fashion, interior design, or the arts. Aesthetically, they lean toward refined, elegant, and classical styles. Growth for them comes in learning to cultivate self-worth and independence rather than relying too much on others to define their happiness.

Venus in the 7th House

Venus in the 7th house really puts great emphasis on relationships, partnerships, and emotional balance. These people are just drawn into partnerships, personal or professional, and seem to attract harmonious relationships throughout their lives. They seek love and fulfillment with others, and their well-being tends to be linked with the dynamics of their closest bonds.They have a deep urge for justice and equality in relations and are mostly very adaptive, seeking to make peace and understanding. In love, they look for a soulmate who shares their values and aspires to long-term stability and commitment. Their diplomatic nature makes them skillful at resolving conflicts and creating harmony within partnerships.They may express themselves through projects done with others or artistic efforts with others. Their aesthetic tastes run to the balanced, the elegant, and the tasteful. Growth for them is in learning to balance a deep need for companionship with a healthy dose of self-sufficiency and independence.

                Venus at 7°, 19°

                Masters of compromise, they create harmonious and balanced partnerships.Romantic and idealistic, they seek beauty in all forms, from relationships to art.Deeply committed to fairness and aesthetics, they thrive in creative and relational harmony.

Venus in Scorpio

Venus in Scorpio loves intensely, passionately, and transforms. Individuals with this placement bring huge emotional involvement to their relationships and often experience their love on such a deep level it can change their life. They don't get excited about superficial contacts, and they are interested in partners who can return their intensity and share their longing for depth in their feelings.They are loyal and protective of the people they love, but sometimes struggle with trust issues or possessiveness. Their love life often consists of periods of transformation in which they want to transcend the ordinary by merging with their partners. The biggest strengths in their lives are passion, and yet, they have to learn about vulnerability and not allow their tendency to control or manipulate a relationship.They will be drawn to the deep, taboo, or trans formative subjects and usually excel in areas such as psychology or the occult or anything that has to do with the mysteries of life. Aesthetically, they like bold, dark, mysterious styles. Growth for them is to learn to trust and find healthy constructive ways to channel their emotional intensity.

Venus in the 8th House

Venus in the 8th house reflects a profound, trans formative connection with love and shared resources. People with this placement experience relationships at a very deep level; their relationships are usually intense, profound, and transforming. They can be drawn to powerful, magnetic partners who stir their emotions to a great degree.They may desperately want closeness in their romantic life and are usually attracted to mystery, secrecy, or complicated emotional dynamics. While they do well with passionate connections, they need to beware of over-identification with partners or loss of self to them.They often turn out to be those who can excel in the deeper aspects of human nature, such as psychology, research, and anything that deals with uncovering hidden truths. Their aesthetic: dark, alluring, or enigmatic. Their growth comes from learning to balance their emotional intensity with personal autonomy and self-awareness.

                Venus at 8°, 20°

                Intense and magnetic, they value deep emotional bonds and loyalty in relationships.Passionate and creative, they excel in emotionally charged artistic expressions.A healer in love, capable of profound emotional transformation and growth.

Venus in Sagittarius

Venus in Sagittarius is adventurous, freedom-loving, and optimistic in love. These individuals value independence and seek relationships that allow them to explore the world, ideas, and experiences without feeling constrained. They are drawn to partners who share their love for adventure and intellectual growth.To them, romance is playful, spontaneous, and an opening to more. They love the thrill of new experiences, be it traveling, learning new philosophies, or indulging in a variety of activities. While generous and loving, their need for freedom can sometimes make them gun-shy of commitment with traditional relationships.They are inspired by exploration, philosophy, and travel, often drawn to artistic expressions that reflect their broad interests and diverse experiences. Their aesthetic preferences are often eclectic, embracing a wide range of cultural influences. Growth for them lies in finding balance between their need for freedom and the stability that comes from deeper emotional connections.

Venus in the 9th House

Venus in the 9th house emphasizes love through exploration, intellectual growth, and the sharing of ideas. These individuals seek relationships that expand their horizons, whether through travel, education, or philosophical discussions. They are drawn to partners who stimulate their minds and share their curiosity for the world.They are drawn to expansive, open-minded relationships that allow freedom and growth. They may be attracted to people from different cultures or backgrounds, or even those who share their love for adventure and discovery. A relationship in their understanding is not just sharing emotions; it is learning, teaching, and growing together.They are inspired by philosophy, travel, and higher learning. They can find success in writing, education, or any field where they share knowledge or ideas. Their aesthetic sense tends to be eclectic and inclusive, incorporating elements from a wide variety of cultures and philosophies. Growth for them involves embracing the deeper emotional aspects of relationships while keeping their intellectual and adventurous spirit alive.

                Venus at 9°, 21°

                    Free-spirited and optimistic, they value growth and adventure in love.Philosophical and creative, they inspire others with their expansive vision of beauty.A seeker of wisdom in relationships, often using love as a path to self-discovery.

Venus in Capricorn

Venus in Capricorn is practical, reserved, and ambitious in love. These subjects approach relationships with a feeling of duty and responsibility; stability, commitment, and long-term goals are treasured by them. They seek those who share their values of hard work, ambition, and loyalty.The love life is serious and takes time to develop as they take all the time needed to weigh up the possibilities of longevity in a relationship. Once they choose a partner, they are deeply committed, though not always easy with showing their emotions or taking chances in love. Above all, they esteem loyalty and integrity.They might enjoy more structured or traditional forms of self-expression and often excel in business, design, or architecture. Their sense of beauty is classic, timeless, reflective of their responsible and ambitious nature. Growth for them would be learning to surrender their emotional vulnerability, letting the heart lead as well as their pragmatic side.

Venus in the 10th House

Venus in the 10th house links love with career and public life. The person may find a lover through professional life, or they express creativity and tenderness through their work. Recognition is important, and building a reputation based on one's ability to create beauty and harmony in the world will be striven for.In relationships, they seek out a partner who will fit into their future plans and goals. They are usually drawn to individuals who have the ability to facilitate the realization of their career or business plans or share in their vision regarding the future. Their personal and public life almost always merges and they find their success in the areas involving entertainment, art, or design.They find their forte in the areas of life which marry beauty and success, like fashion, business, or media. They can naturally present themselves with grace and poise in the public eye. Growth for them involves finding balance between personal ambition and emotional fulfillment in relationships.

                Venus at 10°, 22°

                    Serious and goal-oriented in love, they seek stability and mutual respect in relationships. A natural leader in creativity, often excelling in structured artistic projects.Loyal and enduring, they value partnerships that stand the test of time.

Venus in Aquarius

Venus in Aquarius is inventive, detached, and idealistic in love. These people come into relationships by asserting their individuality-strongly, and often just as much valuing friendship and intellect as emotional intensity. They are attracted to people with an unconventional approach to life and a new idea or progressive cause that interests them.For them, love often has much to do with freedom and mutual respect, and what they often look for in their relationships is the ability to be independent. They may not express their love conventionally but through shared ideas and objectives. They are tolerant and open-minded and enjoy diversity, finding themselves frequently involved with someone quite out of the ordinary or from a different walk of life.They could also be creatively drawn to avant-garde art, technology, or anything challenging the status quo. Aesthetically, their preferences may lie with everything modern, eclectic, or even from the future. Growth for them is in balancing their needs of independence against the emotional depths and intimacy that sustained partnerships require.

Venus in the 11th House

Venus in the 11th house emphasizes love, beauty, and friendship through social networks, groups, and shared humanitarian aspirations. These individuals seek out relationships that are intellectually challenging and often develop profound attachments with people of similar convictions and interests. Often, their romance starts from a very close friendship that gradually blossoms into something more serious.They lean towards social causes, and the feeling is mutual mainly with those people who know how to feel responsible and answer for social causes. The relationships that offer them development, friendship, and jointly pursued goals give them utmost satisfaction. They need much freedom and individuality within their relationships, which should be well understood by the partner, too.They are often involved with projects or causes that somehow help others or benefit society in general. They may be particularly good at social activism, team-oriented work, or any field that requires innovative thinking and collaboration. Their aesthetic tends toward the contemporary, progressive, or community-focused. Growth for them comes through learning to embrace the deeper emotional side of relationships and to balance that with their desire for social involvement.

                Venus at 11°, 23°

                   unconventional in love, they seek relationships that break societal norms.Charismatic and inventive, they excel in creative and social endeavors.Visionaries in beauty and relationships, they inspire others to embrace individuality.

Venus in Pisces

The Venus-in-Pisces person in love is dreamy, empathic, and deeply romantic. People with this placement approach relationships very idealistically, often seeking to attain a connection with someone that transcends the physical and touches the soul. They can be super empathetic and may even take on your emotional vibration like it's their own. Venus-in-Pisces is extremely generous in relationships. They seek a deep spiritual connection in love and often find themselves drawn to those who are understanding and sympathetic to the sensitivities of their nature. Their love life may be tinged with idealism regarding their partners, which may disappoint them when reality does not meet their dreams. Beauty in all its forms draws them, and they may find inspiration from art, music, or nature.They are found to be creatively excellent in fields that involve the expression of emotions or artistic works, such as music, poetry, or visual arts. The aesthetic preferences of the Venus-Neptune individual are soft, ethereal, and often inspired by fantasy or mysticism. Growth for them involves learning to maintain healthy boundaries in relationships and finding a balance between giving and receiving love.

Venus in the 12th House

Venus in the 12th house brings a profound and often hidden approach toward love and beauty. Individuals with this placement are highly sensitive and intuitive in their relationships and often experience love in a private or secretive manner. They may have a tendency to idealize their partners, sometimes seeing them through rose-colored glasses.Love for them can be a spiritual or transcendental experience, and they may seek out partners who offer them an escape or a connection with something greater than the mundane. They may struggle to express their feelings openly or are afraid of rejection or abandonment that makes them keep their relationships private.They could be drawn to spiritual, mystic, or occluded modes of artistic expression, such as poetry, dream analysis, or work with the subconscious mind. Their aesthetic sense tends to be soft and ethereal, delicate as the inner world they dwell within. Growth for them, basically, means learning to share love and affection fearlessly and being vulnerable but also finding ways to bring submerged talents into the world.

                Venus at 12°, 24°

                   Romantic dreamers who seek transcendent love and emotional depth.Mystical and artistic, they channel their emotions into beautiful creative expressions.Empathetic and intuitive, they often inspire others through their selfless approach to love.

All Aspects Of Venus In Natal Chart

Venus Conjunct Sun

This aspect combines love and self-expression. These people are naturally charming and sometimes admired for their beauty or charisma. A relationship somehow completes them, and they blossom in an atmosphere of harmony. They may be drawn to artistic fields or situations that allow them to showcase their creative talents. Yet, they still have to avoid overindulgence, conceit, or dependence on others' approval. Their warmth and ability to spread love make them appealing to other people, but they will also struggle to balance their own needs with the need to please.

Venus Conjunct Moon

Emotional security and romantic satisfaction go hand in hand. They possess a natural flair for the nourishment of others and beauty around them. They are in touch with their emotions and may attract loving relationships with ease. On the downside, they may cling to close relationships for comfort and reassurance. They have a natural talent for creating peace and harmony around them and may find ideal careers as artists or caregivers.

Venus Conjunct Mercury

In them, the energy of love and communication blend. They can express their affection and appeal with words, thus, easily be convincing and charming with words. Many gain artistic or literary talents through this aspect, which also can cause an attraction toward stimulation in romance on an intellectual level. While they are easily able to be friendly, over-intellectualizing a romance often happens.

Venus Conjunct Mars 

The combination of love and passion turns out to be dynamic and bold in personality. Individuals are quite aggressive in pursuing what they want, be it romance, art, or other creative pursuits. They have confidence and magnetism that draws intense relationships. While this aspect instills passion and creativity, the energy can become impulsive or conflicted when desires are not in a balanced state. Channeling this energy constructively could lead to incredible personal and artistic achievements.

Venus Conjunct Jupiter

This is a very fortunate aspect, bringing optimism, generosity, and love for life's pleasures. These people are generally surrounded by beauty and abundance and attract positive experiences and relationships without much apparent effort. Naturally romantic, they love giving and receiving love, though they do need to balance tendencies toward overindulgence or extravagance. Their charisma and warmth make them often popular, and they frequently find joy in creative or social endeavors.

Venus Conjunct Saturn

This aspect brings seriousness and discipline into matters of love and beauty. Loyal and enduring relationships are valued highly, and commitment often overrides transient connections. Delays or restrictions in love early in life instill important lessons in patience and self-worth. With time, a deep appreciation for enduring bonds develops, and structures of beauty, such as architecture or design, may be created with great talent.

Venus Conjunct Uranus 

This aspect electrifies love, making it quite unpredictable. People with this aspect are attracted to unconventional relationships, and they flourish in partnerships that allow freedom and independence. They might go through sudden, unexpected changes in their love life, often learning to embrace spontaneity. Their creativity is innovative, and they can excel in those spheres that combine artistry with technology. While relationships with them can be exciting, they will probably need to work at emotional stability and consistency.

Venus Conjunct Neptune

The most sensitive, imaginative, romantic idealistic, and enchanting aspect of them heightens. Dreamers on the inside, love or beauty may be regarded as more or less otherworldly for them. They are spiritually drawn towards the arts, music, poetry, or the art of painting. On the minus side, unrealistic expectations will bring disillusionment in love since idealism may run too high. Their compassionate nature makes them deeply empathetic, and they often inspire others with their vision of a more beautiful world.

Venus Conjunct Pluto 

This aspect creates powerful, trans formative experiences in love and relationships. These individuals are magnetic and deeply passionate, often attracting intense connections that challenge and change them. They have a profound understanding of emotional depth and may explore themes of power, control, and vulnerability in their relationships. While they can facilitate a lot of emotional healing, they must also avoid a tendency toward possessiveness or obsession. The same aspect also inspires creativity and fuels deep emotional release into creative resources. Trines represent an effortless expression of harmony between Venus and other planetary energies that energize love, beauty, and creativity.

Venus Trine Moon

The emotional and romantic energies blend well, creating a very loving and nurturing personality. The individual is naturally empathetic and easily creates supportive and harmonious environments. The relationships are very fulfilling, and mostly the people around them consider them emotional pillars.

Venus Trine Mars

The natural ease between love and passion equates to self-assuredness and magnetic charm. These individuals can be lively and creative in their personal or professional relationships, with a vivacity for life that makes them admired. They are, many times, at the forefront of community respect.

Venus Trine Mercury

These individuals have a communicative gift, especially in expressing love and creativity. Sweetness with words endears them as good poets, writers, or speakers. Their articulate affection and charm draw people to them. Relationships run smoothly, and they can resolve conflicts with ease through open dialogue. This aspect often indicates a talent for blending logic and beauty, such as in design, diplomacy, or storytelling.

Venus Trine Jupiter

Love and generosity flow. These people possess a type of optimism that makes being around them quite pleasant. They are mostly lucky with love and financial issues, since opportunities for growth and happiness find them. They have an expansive nature that makes them very generous with their time and their resources, although they should try not to overextend. Artistic pursuit is usually crowned with success; travel and cultural exploration satisfy them.

Venus Trine Saturn

Stability and loyalty define the relationships. The grounding nature of these individuals in an approach to love is to build connections that are long-lasting in nature and based on mutual respect and commitment; this makes them really patient and dependable, often a source of strength for their loved ones. The aspect nurtures a great appreciation for tradition and structure and may manifest in careers related to design, architecture, or management.

Venus Trine Uranus

Creativity and excitement run freely in their love life. They thrive in the most unconventional of relationships where freedom and individuality are allowed. They are usually ahead of the times in their artistic vision, bringing innovative ideas into being. Their relationships are thrilling and inspiring, though they may need to ensure they maintain emotional depth and consistency.

Venus Trine Neptune

Romantic and artistic energies blend harmoniously. Highly imaginative, these individuals usually find their place in the world of music, painting, or other creative activities. Their idealism in love is inspiring, though they remain sufficiently grounded not to be disillusioned. Compassionate and empathetic, they bring healing and beauty into their surroundings.

Venus Trine Pluto

Emotive depth and passion meet love and beauty in a harmonious balance. The individual is trans formative in the relationship with others, allowing others to grow while growing themselves. They possess a powerful charisma that attracts deep, meaningful connections. The creativity is often intense and impactful, and they may excel in areas involving psychology, art, or healing.

Venus Semi-Sextile Sun

This is a naturally charming and artistically talented individual. Love and admiration are drawn to them, but they need to make an effort to develop their talents in life fully. Artistic and social skills fall into place when encouraged.

Venus Sextile Moon

The emotional and romantic vibrations complement each other and work well in nurturing relationships. They are good at providing emotional security in relationships and may have a flair for interior decoration or looking after people.

Venus Sextile Mercury

They are fluent, expressive, and eloquent in relationships by nature. This makes them charming, convincing, and a pleasure to know. Many may find their calling in either the arts or sciences.

Venus Sextile Mars

Their affection and passion are nicely balanced, leading to satisfactory love and creative lives. Dynamic and inspiring, they get much done if their energies go into useful channels.

Venus Sextile Jupiter

Love, joy, and abundance are within easy reach. Naturally optimistic, they attract positive opportunities in relationships and finances. Their generosity brings mutual growth in return.

Venus Sextile Saturn

Hard work and discipline will pay off in long-lasting rewards in love and career. Loyal and stable, these individuals often shine in roles that require responsibility and attention to detail.

Venus Sextile Uranus

They innovate and excite their relationships, often thriving in non-traditional partnerships. Creativity is enhanced by embracing new ideas.

Venus Sextile Neptune

Artistic and spiritual inclinations thrive with effort. These individuals have a tender, compassionate approach to love, often inspiring others with their vision of beauty and harmony.

Venus Sextile Pluto

Love and creativity allow access to depth and transformation. These people can reach deeper layers and stimulate further growth in themselves and others.

Venus Combust Sun

This immediately sets up a tension-a push-pull dynamic-between one's need to be themselves and the desire for affection and connection. Venusian qualities get weakened or overpowered by the Sun's intense light and heat in that case. The planet's qualities are often less noticeable or can be obscured, making them more difficult to express. Individuals in such positions may feel torn between self-expression and people-pleasing, between their identities and others' approval of them. They might not find that right balance between their need for self-expression and their need for partnership. A romantic relationship can be likened to a mirror reflecting both one's strengths and insecurities.

Venus Square Moon

The emotional and relational needs may consistently feel antagonistic. There will be ups and downs in a romantic affair that may confuse or dissipate emotions. A person of such nature may easily idealize or fantasize about having perfect love, and finally, when things get practical, may end up disheartened. Balancing emotional security with romantic desires is one balancing that will be carried throughout your life. There could be stress in reconciling personal needs with the desire for love that might result in mood swings or turmoil.

Venus Square Mercury

There may be troubles in relationships concerning communications, specifically. Subjects may struggle in putting affection and love in ways other people understand. They are likely to misunderstand their love life or rationalize their love life so it creates space between lovers. Creativity is shut as your emotions will be off in one corner and then ways to effectively communicate down here. This may cause people to overthink romantic relationships.

Venus Square Mars

There is a lot of conflict between passion and love. This aspect may make them intensely emotionally and sexually attracted, but it also sets them up for a whole lot of friction in their relationships. These people are often prone to power or impulsive issues in the way they approach love, which makes finding a balance hard. They might have the desire for affectionate closeness but struggle to work out how to go about it in a healthy, grounded manner. There is the tendency to act impulsively in relationships, leading to arguments or misunderstandings.

Venus Square Jupiter

This aspect may create overindulgence or excess, though the natural optimism and generosity in love are well placed. These individuals may have to work against the tendency to idealize romantic partners or love as an idea. There might be a tendency to "overdo" love or beauty, setting one up for disappointment or non-alignment with reality. They may also face some problems in maintaining boundaries in relationships, at times putting way too much energy into the relationship without getting equal returns.

Venus Square Saturn

This square might speak about love and relationships being hampered in some manner or not allowing complete expression. There would come a time in one's life when one must suffer the coldness of heart, the distance from people, or just an impossibility of satisfying their urge in life. Love matters quite seriously and caution-processes that at times create an unrest and a sense of being dislocated to exercise freely the power to express. More simply said, in time, the connection can be deep based abidingly on commitment and loyalty, but it could be heavy and hard to win.

Venus Square Uranus

This makes relationships unpredictable and often unstable. These people may want freedom and excitement in love, which may make them seek unconventional or nontraditional relationships. Sudden and unexpected changes in romantic life can stress or raise uncertainty. The strong desires for novelty and excitement may be at odds with finding stability in relationships. There's this tendency to fight conventionality in love, and such can bring friction with other people who strive for stability.

Venus Square Neptune

Idealism in love can often come up against reality, leading to confusion or disillusionment. They may have fantastic expectations from love or a partner that may lead to disappointments or emotional disarray. A person with this placement may project an idealized version of love onto others and then be disappointed when a relationship doesn't live up to their ideals. There is also the possibility of losing themselves in dreams or escape mechanisms due to an inability to balance romantic ideals with the reality of their relationships.

Venus Square Pluto

The aspects are all about intensity and change of emotion. People having Venus square Pluto usually go through very intense, transformative relationships that may turn out to be overwhelming, manipulative, or abusive at times. Power struggles or jealousy may come up within a partnership due to some deeper fears or desires to gain control. This can definitely make a balance difficult between love, desire, and personal power. It is in this intense emotional experience that they may achieve profound self-awareness and healing.

Venus Opposite Moon

The pulls of emotional security and romance are opposite in direction. This position may bring internal emotional tension into your life, moodiness, or a confused feeling about love. Here, the emotional wishes contradict with the desire to be loved or acknowledged. They might also be torn between their own personal needs and the emotional requirements of their partners. This generally involves balancing one's private emotional life with one's public life of romance.

Venus Opposition Mercury

Hardly any ease in communication-especially about love matters-could be the case, and the poor thing cannot clearly state what's on his or her mind or what is desired, which might give way to misunderstandings in a love relationship. They might be prone to intellectualize feelings, set themselves apart from deeper contact. Learning ways to naturally express their affectionate and loving feelings will overcome this opposition.

Venus Opposition Mars

The tension between love and desire often makes for an intense and passionate relationship. The deep longing for affection might often turn to frustration or conflict. This is an aspect that may result in a battle of wills in partnerships: one will may be more forceful or dominating, while another yearns for affection and intimacy. There can be a fine line between desire and control, and this opposition often brings up issues of power dynamics in relationships.

Venus Opposition Jupiter

This opposition sometimes faces over-optimism and overindulgence in love. On most occasions, individuals with this opposition battle between ideal relationships and a reality check of their limiting factors. They always tend to overindulge in love or idealize their partners to the core, only to get disappointed in the end. Learning how to balance enthusiasm with moderation in relationship matters is important.

Venus Opposition Saturn

Love and emotional expression can be experienced as restricted with this opposition. These people can feel that they do not get the emotional support in a relationship or possibly feel that love has to be hard-earned. There is a tendency for these individuals to feel loneliness and a disconnection with others on an intimate level. While over time this opposition can give rise to long-term, committed relationships, they may feel to require a lot of effort and emotional discipline.

Venus Opposition Uranus

This position is known to generally make the relationships quite unconventional, thrilling, and unpredictable. There is an inborn longing for freedom in love that contributes to instability and tension in romantic relationships. Their love life may comprise sudden turnarounds and unexpected happenings, which give a roller coaster feeling both excitingly and disturbingly. A balance between freedom and togetherness in love has to be achieved as too much unpredictability in love can cause emotional exhaustion.

Venus Opposition Neptune

This romantic ideal can sometimes collide with harsh realities, and thus might create a kind of disappointment or confusion regarding love matters. There is a tendency to idealize the partner or project fantasies onto them and later get disappointed because reality cannot live up to expectations. They might not clearly understand the true nature of love and relationships; it takes introspection to differentiate fantasy from reality.

Venus Opposition Pluto

This is an intense aspect in relating, signaling transformation. There is a deep-seated desire for passion and connections, but it will often be associated with some kind of power struggle or emotional manipulation. These people are likely to find themselves in relationships that confront them with their own wounded psyche or deeply buried desires. The way to grow into this opposition is to allow the transformation without getting caught up in control or struggles for power.

[majikkulu]

✮ ˖° ⸜ masterlist ꕤ ･

╭₊˚๑ i'm  not  a  professional  astrologer,  so  they  may  not  resonate  with  everyone—take  them  with  a  grain  of  salt.  consider  the  planets, degrees, etc! these  are  just  my  personal  observations  and  opinions

if  you  have  any  astrology  post  suggestions,  feel  free  to  drop  them  in  my  ask  box,  and  i’ll  make  it  happen!  xoxo.

☁️₊˚੭

⋆⁺₊ your  ascendant  persona  chart  (apc)  reveals  a  more  intense,  refined  version  of  how  you  present  yourself  to  the  world.  it  dives  deeper  into  your  rising  sign,  showing  a  clearer  expression  of  who  you  are.  think  of  it  as  a  magnified  first  impression,  offering  more  than  your  natal  chart.  the  apc  also  explores  how  you  shift  in  different  situations,  especially  when  your  natal  rising  differs  from  your  ascendant  persona.

⋆⁺₊ in  my  opinion,  your  rising  in  the  natal  chart  reflects  how  you  see  yourself—your  inner  self  and  how  you  outwardly  express  that.  it’s  the  balance  between  your  personality's  essence  and  your  physical  appearance.  on  the  other  hand,  your  rising  in  the  ascendant  persona  chart  reveals  how  others  see  you,  how  you  come  across  to  them,  and  how  your  energy  is  perceived  by  the  world  around  you.

⋆⁺₊ take  me,  for  example.  in  my  natal  chart,  i’ve  got  gemini  rising,  so  i’m  talkative,  expressive,  and  always  buzzing  with  youthful  energy.  i  get  bored  easily  and  crave  mental  stimulation—constantly  chasing  new  knowledge,  exploring,  analyzing,  overthinking.  it’s  the  classic  curious  gemini  vibe.  but  then,  in  my  ascendant  persona  chart,  capricorn  rising  takes  over,  and  that’s  where  things  get  interesting.  now  i’m  seen  as  serious,  reserved,  and  cautious—basically  the  opposite  of  gemini’s  free-spirited  nature.  my  face  usually  looks  serious,  and  i’ve  been  called  “bitchy”  or  “mean,”  which  is  far  from  who  i  really  am. this  mix  of  gemini  and  capricorn  gives  me  versatility,  shifting  from  playful  curiosity  to  calm  maturity  depending  on  the  context.  in  most  situations,  that  capricorn  energy  takes  over.  funny  enough,  people  often  tell  me  i  ooze  with  capricorn  traits,  rather  than  the  gemini  ones  i  feel  inside.

✮ ARIES RISING IN APC you’ve  got  this  fearless,  bold  aura  that  immediately  grabs  attention.  no  hesitation,  no  fluff—just  straight-up  honesty  and  fiery  energy.  people  might  find  you  hot  and  a  little  intimidating,  especially  when  you  take  charge  and  lead  the  way.  conversation?  you’re  always  the  first  to  spark  it.  you  thrive  on  competition,  and  it  finds  its  way  to  you  naturally.  your  energy  is  magnetic—too  much  for  some,  but  others  can’t  help  but  be  drawn  in.  rebellious,  decisive,  and  independent,  you  crave  excitement,  new  experiences,  and  constant  movement.  your  actions  can  be  impulsive,  sometimes  reckless,  but  somehow  you  always  land  on  your  feet.  frustration  may  follow  when  things  don’t  move  as  fast  as  you'd  like,  but  chaos?  you  thrive  in  it.  you  radiate  sex  appeal  in  a  way  that  makes  heads  turn.

✮ TAURUS RISING IN APC you  have  that  cool,  composed  vibe  that  makes  everyone  feel  at  ease.  people  are  drawn  to  your  quiet,  sensual  beauty.  you  take  your  time  with  decisions,  always  careful  and  deliberate.  there's  a  calm,  almost  magnetic  confidence  about  you—it's  understated  yet  undeniably  powerful.  you  don’t  show  your  vulnerabilities  easily,  creating  a  sense  of  independence  and  self-sufficiency.  underneath  it  all,  though,  you’re  grounded  and  in  tune  with  what’s  real.  chaotic  spaces  drain  you,  but  you  bring  peace  and  comfort  to  others.  where  aries  is  all  flash,  you’re  slow,  steady,  and  enduring.  your  energy  is  soothing,  warm,  and  draws  people  in  without  trying.

✮ GEMINI RISING IN APC curiosity  and  communication  are  your  driving  forces.  even  if  you’re  not  the  most  social,  people  see  you  as  lively  and  engaging.  you’re  constantly  learning,  always  on  the  lookout  for  new  experiences.  your  energy  shifts  faster  than  anyone  can  keep  up,  and  your  quick  wit  makes  you  fun  to  be  around.  talkative,  expressive,  and  ever-restless,  you  might  leave  people  guessing  who  you  are.  you’re  full  of  surprises—constantly  changing,  adapting,  and  keeping  things  fresh.  your  style?  it  mirrors  your  personality—constantly  evolving.  you  can  be  self-conscious,  worrying  about  how  others  see  you,  but  your  charm  always  wins  them  over.

✮ CANCER RISING IN APC you  come  off  as  a  gentle,  nurturing  soul,  making  others  feel  safe  and  comfortable  around  you.  soft-spoken  but  never  weak,  you  have  a  quiet  strength.  mysterious,  private,  and  sometimes  moody,  you  might  not  reveal  everything  at  first,  leaving  people  curious.  you  feel  deeply,  and  sometimes,  that  causes  you  to  retreat  when  overwhelmed.  intimate  settings  feel  like  home,  but  you’re  also  more  social  than  most  realize.  there's  something  magnetic  about  your  warmth  and  sensitivity,  and  once  people  get  past  the  surface,  they  see  your  depth.  you’re  fiercely  protective  of  your  loved  ones  and  incredibly  loyal,  but  you  need  space  to  recharge.

✮ LEO RISING IN APC you  light  up  the  room  with  a  radiant,  magnetic  energy  that  can’t  be  ignored.  people  are  naturally  drawn  to  you—whether  it’s  your  loud,  expressive  nature  or  your  vibrant  charisma.  you’re  a  people  person  with  a  heart  of  gold,  always  bringing  excitement  and  joy  wherever  you  go.  there’s  an  artistic  side  to  you  that  shines  through,  whether  it’s  in  hobbies  or  raw  talent.  everyone  wants  to  be  around  you  because  you  make  them  feel  seen  and  heard.  you  lead  with  warmth,  generosity,  and  an  infectious  enthusiasm  that  makes  you  unforgettable.

✮ VIRGO RISING IN APC you  give  off  an  aura  of  quiet  confidence.  observant  and  thoughtful,  you  pay  attention  to  the  tiniest  details  others  miss.  reliable  and  practical,  you  get  things  done  without  needing  the  spotlight.  you’re  self-aware  and  often  find  yourself  analyzing  everything  in  your  path.  your  actions  speak  louder  than  words,  and  though  you  might  seem  busy,  you’re  always  on  top  of  everything.  stress  may  come  naturally,  but  so  does  your  knack  for  solving  problems  like  a  detective.  competent,  responsible,  and  always  prepared,  people  trust  you  to  handle  things  when  it  counts.

✮ LIBRA RISING IN APC people  can’t  help  but  be  drawn  to  you  with  your  natural  charm  and  ease  in  social  settings.  you  know  how  to  make  others  feel  comfortable  and  welcome,  and  your  sense  of  justice  makes  you  the  one  who  stands  up  for  what’s  right.  optimism  flows  from  you,  and  negativity  doesn’t  find  a  home  in  your  vibe.  though  you  radiate  kindness,  your  humor  can  be  surprisingly  dark.  you’re  dramatic  in  how  you  express  yourself,  and  you’re  always  quick  to  make  friends.  at  first,  you  give  people  everything,  but  it  can  take  time  for  them  to  truly  get  to  know  the  real  you.

✮ SCORPIO RISING IN APC there’s  a  magnetism  about  you,  one  that  pulls  people  in  or  pushes  them  away.  you  have  a  private,  mysterious  side,  and  your  calm,  composed  exterior  hides  a  fierce  emotional  depth.  you’re  not  easy  to  figure  out—your  thoughts  and  feelings  stay  under  lock  and  key.  but  those  who  earn  your  trust  find  an  incredibly  loyal,  intense  connection.  you’re  fiercely  protective  of  your  boundaries,  and  people  see  you  as  powerful  and  enigmatic.  your  intelligence  lets  you  see  through  people  and  situations,  and  your  empathy  allows  you  to  connect  deeply  with  those  close  to  you.  hardships  may  have  shaped  you,  but  you  wear  them  like  armor.

✮ SAGITTARIUS RISING IN APC optimistic,  adventurous,  and  always  on  the  lookout  for  something  new,  you  have  an  expansive  energy  that  makes  you  seem  larger-than-life.  you’re  always  in  search  of  meaning,  diving  deep  into  philosophy  or  spirituality.  straightforward  and  direct,  you  speak  your  mind  without  hesitation,  though  it  can  sometimes  come  off  as  blunt.  honesty  is  your  signature,  and  you’re  always  keeping  things  light  and  enjoyable.  family  matters  to  you  deeply,  and  you  expect  the  same  loyalty  and  support  you  give.

✮ CAPRICORN RISING IN APC you  might  come  off  as  serious  or  even  a  bit  distant,  with  a  reserved  vibe  that  gives  off  the  impression  of  someone  who's  always  in  work  mode.  people  might  mistake  you  for  constantly  unhappy,  but  that’s  just  the  exterior.  underneath,  you  have  a  quiet  strength  that  draws  people  in.  you’re  committed  to  your  passions  and  interests,  taking  them  seriously  and  with  a  focus  on  stability.  you’re  selective  about  the  people  you  let  into  your  life,  and  even  more  selective  about  what  you  share.  your  presence  can  be  intimidating,  but  those  who  get  past  your  guarded  exterior  see  your  reliable,  supportive  side.

✮ AQUARIUS RISING IN APC you  have  an  unconventional  energy  that  catches  people  off  guard.  a  little  aloof,  a  little  detached,  you  stand  out  without  even  trying.  independent  and  easygoing,  you  have  an  unpredictable  streak  that  keeps  people  guessing.  your  rebellious  side  can  make  you  seem  a  bit  dangerous,  and  you’re  always  changing  in  ways  others  don’t  expect.  you  connect  with  all  kinds  of  people,  from  all  walks  of  life,  effortlessly.  you’re  open-minded,  curious,  and  cool—like  a  more  laid-back,  intellectual  gemini.

✮ PISCES RISING IN APC gentle  and  empathetic,  you  have  an  approachable,  almost  ethereal  vibe.  you  make  people  feel  understood  without  saying  much.  your  kindness  and  compassion  are  evident  in  everything  you  do,  even  when  you  might  seem  a  bit  distant and disconnected.  you’re  highly  sensitive,  and  emotions  can  sometimes  overwhelm  you,  making  you  retreat  to  recharge.  you  live  in  your  own  world,  but  once  people  get  to  know  you,  they  see  a  different  side—one  that’s  outgoing,  bubbly,  and  full  of  life.  you’re  sweet,  and  your  energy  is  almost  ghost-like,  flowing  in  and  out  of  spaces,  leaving  a  trail  of  warmth  behind.

[feathersandblue]

So, full disclosure, I haven't been a Solas fan before.

I am now.

And that's because of Veilguard and the many, many ways in which I felt let down by this game.

The aspect that bothers me most is the reduction of nuance and complexity.

Rook's hero's cakewalk (because “journey” really isn't the right word) is a ready-made path that offers no deviation at all and never challenges the player in any meaningful way.

Sure, you can spend some time pondering the pros and cons of saving Treviso or Minrathous. Ultimately, it makes no difference. Rook does their best, they just can’t be in two places at once.

Same with the companion character arcs. What does it mean if you decide to you turn Emmrich into a lich? For the most part, it's idle musing. Indulgence. He’ll be happy either way, there are no real stakes. Yeah, your actions do have consequences, just not the sort of consequences that make a substantial difference. It’s the illusion of choice – reduced to cosmetics.

The problems with decisions that cost nothing is that they don’t feel like an accomplishment. They also don’t allow for character growth. Rook doesn’t change, they remain static. Even the section in the Fade where Rooks faces their regrets is easy and comparatively lightweight. Varric was killed by Solas, Harding resp. Davrin died in combat and either Bellara or Neve was abducted by Elgar’nan. It’s not like Rook’s decisions actually caused these events, it’s not like Rook actually failed through a choice they had to make that turned out to be the wrong one. Everyone was there willingly and volunteered to fight the good fight. Rook’s regrets are not about real guilt, they are about feeling sad and guilty. And that – it needs to be said – is not the same thing. At all.

At the same time, the story carefully avoids any kind of true ethical dilemma.

It's not even about the lack of mean or edgy dialogue options; that’s just a symptom. The cause is the writers’ unwillingness to let realism intrude in Rook’s fairytale – the lack of anything that would require Rook to compromise on morals, or fight temptation. Rook is never faced with any sort of moral conundrum, or allowed to act out any kind of vice that realistic characters have. In its straight-path simplicity, Rook's story is apparently written for children and people who remain child-like in their yearning for simple, uncontested truths.

Of all the sorts of conflicts that a story can offer, Veilguard carefully avoids the most realistic and (in my opinion) interesting ones: Character vs. self and character vs. society, aka, politics. The game firmly refuses to go there. To the point where it creates a completely unrealistic consensus on all sides that eliminates yet another sort of conflict: character vs. character.

If Rook and their companions would talk politics, they’d all be on the exact same side. In a two party state, they’d all cast the same vote.

I am sure that there are many players who feel comforted and reassured by that fact, who sincerely believe that this is how stories should be written. That stories should reflect the world not as it is but as they think it should be. But for everyone who likes their stories a little more realistic, that lack of meaningful interpersonal conflict, that lack of real diversity which comes not from appearance but from different cultures and opposing viewpoints amounts to a frankly cringe-worthy, artificial and juvenile surface-level interaction between characters. Or, to phrase it differently: the diversity remains skin-deep and doesn’t extend to the philosophical, and even in the few instances where it does, it shies away from the political.

Which means that the only conflicts that remain are the most boring and stereotypical ones: character vs. monsters resp. the supernatural, where all foes are evil in the blandest way (Supremacist Venatori! Fascist renegade qunari! Power-hungry necromancers!). These conflicts are resolved through exploring maps and endless, repetitive combat.

The only thing that brings a bit of nuance to the game is Solas’s story. And there is an element of character vs. character in Rook’s and Solas’s relationship, but the sad truth is that what could have been a fascinating mirrored character journey falls flat for all the reasons already explained – because where Solas is a character as layered and controversial as it gets, Rook is anything but.

Solas’s story shows how even people with the best intentions and the greatest integrity are ultimately broken by what life throws at them, both by the decisions that are forced upon them and the choices they make on their own. It shows how a prolonged war is always a sunk cost fallacy: I’ve gone this far, if I stop now, it was all for nothing.

Rook’s victories, on the other hand, come without a cost – both in terms of moral corruption and in accountability. The guilt Solas bears is real. The fight against the titans, followed by his war against the Evanuris, requires compromising his own morals, one day at a time, one century after another, he’s trying to save the world yet doomed to fail. Sacrificing the spirits to win a battle after the war has gone this far? Every single war leader around the globe would make the same decision. In fact, all of them do: They do sacrifice the lives of others if it will help them win, they do send soldies into the trenches to die, whether these soldiers want to or not, and they are rarely, if ever, truthful about the reasons why.

In a certain way, the story of the spirit of wisdom turned flesh is reminiscent of the biblical Fall of Man: the original sin. Solas has fallen, and he’s broken. In trying to heal the world, he’s trying to heal himself. The burden is too heavy, the responsibility to great, the knowledge that he is responsible for all of it too devastating. Solas’s greatest conflict is character vs. self. It has the potential to be great. In a way, it is. It’s the single redeeming quality that, depending on your interpretation of what went on behind the scenes, the writers managed to salvage from the original concept of Dreadwolf or the lone pillar that withstood all their attempts to bring it down.

Only sadly, infuriatingly, in the end, that fallen hero’s ending is put into the hands of a protagonist who judges him from the perspective of someone who has never even stumbled – not because they are wiser, braver, or kinder. No, just because the writers were gracious – or cowardly? – enough to never let them fail.

The game gives Rook a moral high ground which isn’t earned in the slightest because Rook never had to walk even a quarter of a mile in Solas’s shoes. They don’t know what they would have done in his stead, they have no idea what it actually means to see the sorry shape the world is in and know that it was your hands that shaped it. And even where Rook might actually be culpable – the interruption of Solas’s ritual that freed the remaining Evanuris – anyone is quick to assure Rook that it wasn’t their fault.

Whatever regrets Rook carries, they’re born from self-doubt and trauma response. Survivor’s guilt, mostly. When compared to Solas’s immense guilt, Rook’s regrets are, for lack of a better term, insignificant. That Rook manages to face them doesn’t mean that they are more truthful or emotionally mature, it just means that Rook’s story is a tale for children and Solas’s is not.

It’s not that I’m necessarily opposed to the idea that the player decides Solas’s fate through their actions. It’s the injustice of it all that bothers me: The player is led through a game that provides a safe space for their character, one that is devoid of any interpersonal conflict and any ethical quandary. Rooks succeeds through kindness and heroism and taking their companions on team bonding exercises.

As if Solas could have won the war against the Evanuris if he’d taken the time to take his companions on coffee dates.

The juxtaposition – Rook vs. Solas – fails, simply because of this deep divide. Rook’s story is detached from reality and yet Rook gets to be Solas’s judge, jury, and executioner. On what grounds?

As I said, right in the beginning, I haven’t been a Solas fan before. But by the end of Veilguard, I was firmly, irrevocably, Team Solas, just because I was so annoyed that the narrative put Rook in a position of moral superiority. I detested my own character. Jesus, what a goody two-shoes! I was rooting for Solas simply because his story was so much more: a genuine tragedy, a study in complexity. Rook, on the other hand, remains bland, snotty, unchanged. Untried.

The thing is, I don’t believe that my reaction was one the writers had intended. I strongly feel that they didn’t mean for me to pick up on their double standard, that they expected me to walk away fully satisfied, convinced that Rook and The Team were the Good Guys because they went on picnics and petted the griffon, their final victory well-earned and just. If only Solas had had a Team and taken care of their emotional needs – he could have taken down the Evanuris with nary a scratch!

It’s all so very disingenuous.

Rook and, by extension, the player exist in a bubble of sanitized content. That is clearly deliberate. The player is meant to like it there. (In that sense, it’s only logical that they changed the title from Dreadwolf to Veilguard.) And clearly, it does resonate with a certain kind of their player base: mostly with people, I think, who would like their real life to be a bubble too and whose only experience with moral corruption is when they find it in others.

[navydoves]

Can't do these without my help, can you?

✎ᝰ. summary: going out of his way to become your tutor, caleb is right where he wants to be when you invite him over.

✎ᝰ. cw: dom!caleb, tutor!caleb, perversion, semi-masturbation, panty ADDICT, freako caleb, a creampie, dirty talk, just a little degradation, orgasm-denial if you squint, caleb is very needy 4 u and also a little obsessive

✎ᝰ. wc: 4.1k

✎ᝰ. a/n: i'm not particularly interested in caleb as a li, but i hope i did his writing justice. i also wrote this all in one go for u crazy freaks. enjoy!

𖤐

light, fruity, feminine; that was the inviting smell of your room that greeted caleb every time he came over for a session. your walls were adored with small posters of your favourite medias, and over them, warm fairy lights were strung to create a very home-y, gentle atmosphere. your room was a direct reflection of you, someone who was just as inviting and gentle, someone who was just as warm and feminine. he was obsessed.

he's observed you from afar for a while now as the girl who seemed unreachable, untouchable. he would purposefully sit in the row behind you during lecture hall to keen himself in on what you were jotting down in your notes or searching up on your computer. you were never secretive about it, not even when you browsed online stores or your clicked through social media during class.

sometimes he would drop whatever he was doing when he saw you on campus, with your friends sometimes not. he preferred when you were alone. he never followed you anywhere, no, but he would take mental notes of where you frequented and with whom. he felt like a weirdo at first, staring at you like this and getting to know you well enough to be mistaken for your friend. but that feeling had long past, long after he actually became your friend.

it took a bit of courage and time from him to work himself up to the challenge of simply talking to you, but it was easier than he thought once he actually approached you. you were sociable, kind, so warm. it also helped that caleb knew all of your interests already and was a great conversationalist when it came to things he was passionate about. no, not your favourite band, but you.

he found himself only growing more infatuated with your person as time went on. you entrusted him quickly; he knew he was very charming and welcoming as a person, so when you started confiding in him, details of your personal life, he happily listened. he hated when you talked about previous relationships or other guys you were currently looking at. has all the effort he has put in to get close to you been in vain?? he dismissed those conversations; he hated those men.

it was only when you started talking about your with assignments that caleb began to become interested again. something about caleb was that, despite not really trying, he was a prodigy in school. it was the reason why he could get away with gawking at you in class without failing. andnow, hearing you complain about classes he had found easy—even while sleeping through them—he realized he had another way into your life. his intelligence was a gift that kept on giving, it seemed.

when he first offered to tutor, you were skeptical. apparently, you had tried tutors in the past and none of them really helped, but caleb assured you that he would be different - that he would actually help. you reluctantly agreed and insisted on paying him despite his refusal. seeing you privately, teaching you, guiding you was more than enough to satisfy caleb in every way, but you were a feisty one.

the first time came caleb came over for a tutoring session, he almost came in his pants just stepping into that fruity-scented room of yours and had to wait until you left for the bathroom to let out a soft groan of pleasure. he wasn't sure why he was so aroused by just being in your room like this, you hadn't even done anything but get most of the questions wrong on your calculus practice exam. there's no reason for his cock to be twitching in his pants like this every time he looked up at you.

the feeling of restraint was a nice one to caleb, though. every time he packed his bag before heading off to your place for a session, he knew he would spend the next hour or two trying not to get his dick all hard. he's felt it before; your form so close to his that the heat radiating off of you sent jolts straight down to his cock, and still, he had to resist getting fully erect. something about being denied that pleasure because he could get caught by you was exhilarating, it made him lightheaded. but he questioned, when was denial going to eat away at him?

caleb was a good tutor, a great one in fact. since the day he was hired, you've improved significantly in all of your most hated subjects. he's turned around the pattern of unreliable tutors you've had in the past, which is why he thinks you decided to continue your sessions even through spring break. on any normal basis, caleb would reject the offer. spring break was his time to leave the campus behind and take a flight somewhere deserted. but for you? he'd stay nailed to your room floor if you so wanted.

"caleb's here!" he chirps happily as he knocks on your apartment door. he hears scuffling from afar followed by the nearing pitter-patter of your footsteps. he watches as the door unlocks and opens for him, you shorter form - clad in shorts and loose shirt - standing behind it with a gentle smile.

"hey, come in. sorry, was cleaning out my backpack." you step aside for him and then turn your back to him as you motioned for him to follow you into your room. that gesture was enough to already get his hormones erratic.

caleb tightens his grip on his bag and uses other hand to wave dismissively while following you to your bedroom. "nah, you're all good. you doing some spring cleaning?" he asks with a playful lilt to his voice. he steps into your room and glances around, trying not to make it obvious to you that he was getting a little antsy.

"uh, something like that," you answer while situating yourself on a cushion behind your small floor table. right next to you, was where caleb usually sat. "i just need my backpack empty for when class starts up again. i get overwhelmed with all the papers but never end up doing anything about it." you lug the backpack in question off from the table pull out the textbooks you were gonna use to study today.

caleb nods at your words and realizes he should be making himself at home too. he drops his bag beside the table and moves to the cushion next to you, glancing over at the textbook name. "more math?" he asks in a laugh.

you sigh in exasperation and shrug. this was the subject most of your study sessions were about. "i can't do any type of math, it's actually kinda funny how bad i am." you wrap one arm around caleb's neck and pull him into a good-natured side hug. "but that's why you're here!"

caleb immediately tenses up in your embrace. oh fuck, this difficult task of not creaming his pants was already proving to be extreme, and he had barely been in your house for five minutes. despite his struggle, he didn't want to pull away from you, fearing you would take it as rejection, but your proximity and scent was already making him dizzy.

thankfully you peeled yourself off of him before he could let a pathetic moan slip out. with a grunt, he shifts himself on the cushion and zeros in his attention to the textbook you opened. he watches you flip through the pages, saying something about the professor being annoying—or was it the work? he wasn’t sure; he was already too far gone.

"s-so, how much work am i helping you with here? ya gonna suck up day one of my spring break dry?" caleb chuckles, trying to distract himself from the ache in his body.

"i won't keep you long," you sigh, "i already feel bad making you help me over our break. it'll be short, don't worry."

he nods again, but your words make him feel conflicting turmoil. he wanted to stay, but the longer he did, the greater the risk of him busting a nut right there on your carpet. he had been suppressing his arousal for months and he was now reaching his limit.

"no it's okay, take as much of my time as you need," caleb responds with a smile that was slightly forced. the will of god himself could not ameliorate the amount of horny caleb had built within him - but caleb was stronger than god in that room.

the next hour consisted of you brushing against him, teasing him, asking him questions in a cute, confused tone. he was losing his composure so quick that an erection was inevitable for him despite the restraint. he placed his bag over his lap so that it wasn't so obvious, but he knew at some point, he was gonna have to take it off. going to your bathroom to relieve himself was also not a solution, considering your bathroom shared a wall with your room and you would be able to hear the groans of your name that he needed to say to be able cum.

"do you want something to eat?" you suddenly ask after you triumphantly finished another practice sheet from the textbook. "you've been here for a while, i can see what i have in the kitchen."

caleb almost jumped for joy. yes, please leave the room, please he can't take it anymore. you're so much. "i-i wouldn't mind it, thanks. take your time, you've been working hard." he watches you smile and nod before leaving the room, leaving him inside alone.

. . . he shouldn't . . . he shouldn't. he had to respect the home you so graciously invited him into and he shouldn't. but the erection in his pants was so overwhelmingly distracting that if he had any chance of being good tutor for the rest of his time here, he needed to relieve himself.

caleb pushes himself off the cushion and lets his bag fall from his lap. he quietly strides to your dresser and has one final moral dilemma in his head before opening one of the cabinets. these were your shirts. he opens another one - your socks. then another - your bras. the bras were tempting, he wouldn't lie, but they weren't what he was looking for. but then he hit the top drawer which looked like a gold mine to him - your panties. he groans into his palm before haphazardly picking up a pink one and closing the cabinet.

quickly, he brings it to his nose and begins palming himself through his pants. fuck, this was better than any jack-off session he's ever had with porn - and he wasn't even really touching his cock. stumbling around like a man drunk, he bends over your bed with his nose deep into the pussy lining of your panties. pre-cum soaked his own underwear and he could only hope that it wouldn't seep into his pants. he needed this; like a man needed water he needed your pussy overtaking him like this.

the pleasure hazing his mind only amplified when he caught glimpse of your laundry hamper in the corner. his eyes blew wide, the purple of his irises gone as his pupils dilated at a new idea. he rushes over to the hamper and digs through the top pieces of clothes with one singular prayer in his mind.

please, please, please.

and maybe his prayers worked, maybe god was actually with him because he found exactly what he was risking his entire reputation for - a dirty, used panty that had all of your natural musk on it, uncovered by detergent and fully soaked with every acidic smell of your pussy. the moment caleb brings the red fabric to his nose, he lets out the loudest groan he's ever allowed himself to do in your house. what he would give for this to be your actual soaking, wet heat covering his face. he was almost tempted to pull out his cock right there and use your underwear as a make-shift pocket pussy, but he thought against it.

you'd be back any minute now. he didn't know what you were making, and it made him nervous. there was a difference in time between slicing apples and cooking those struggle-meal noodles on the stove, and he was none-the-wiser as to what you were doing. but he didn't want to move. he really didn't. he growls at the dilemma, but despite the disagreements happening in his brain his body wasn't moving.

caleb moves the panties back a few inches to get a good look at it. it was stained with a bit of discharge and other feminine fluids that he couldn't be sure of, but that didn't stop him from what he did next. he brings the crotch of your panties to his mouth and clamps down on it, sucking it vigorously in attempts to taste every second that you wore this. there was a tangy taste on his mouth that he learned in that second was the taste of you - and that realization itself made his balls clench up, readying to spill in his pants. he quickly moves his hand away from his erection imprint to stall his orgasm but cries out softly from the denial. thankfully, the cloth of your panties muffled his voice.

everything became a second thought, though, when he heard the change in your footsteps from outside. you were no longer walking on the tiles of your kitchen, but instead the wooden floors of the common room. caleb clambered to pile all of the discarded dirty laundry back into the hamper but kept the saliva drenched panties in his pocket. he shuffled back to the cushion behind your small table and tensed up as your footsteps neared. his heart had never pounded like this, not even during training season back when he was in the army for piloting.

you clicked open the door and smiled sheepishly at caleb with a tray of various finger foods. "hey, sorry for the wait," you hum, "i quickly realized i didn't have full meals on deck to make you so i just opted for like a…. snack tray?" you bent over and placed the tray on the table in front of caleb with an inviting gesture, telling him to eat.

caleb flits his gaze up to you before looking away in slight shame. "no it's alright, i actually had a pretty big breakfast so a few snacks is just what i need." he laughs like normal but there was anxiety simmering within his body at the situation he put himself in. all this for an orgasm he couldn't even have? doesn't matter, he'll have a jerk-off session so intense later that he'll colour your panties his cum-shade of white.

it was the anxiety in his chest, though, that made him flinch at your sudden gasp. he sits up, startled and furrows his brows. but before he could ask anything, you move toward your bed and pick up a discarded pair of pink panties that were laying there.

fuck, fuck, fuck. he forgot to put them back in the drawer and left them there like an idiot. fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

before caleb could drop to his hands and knees and beg for forgiveness, you beat him to it.

"i.. am so sorry, i have no idea how long those have been there for. agh, this is so embarassing!" you squeal while snatching them off your bed and throwing them into your top drawer without so much as caring to fold them. caleb looks at you dumbfoundedly with a slack jaw which you took as an expression of disgust. you turn your body away from his direction and shield your eyes from the world as shame boiled within your stomach.

caleb looks around the room like he was being duped. so god was actually here with him, protecting his perversion from ever being know. but yet, while he could get away with unscathed, there was something about your naivety that really created an itch. almost caught, once again; denial felt so good up until this point and he could take no more. he stands and glances down at his still prominent erection before moving behind where you stood. he places his hands on your hips and his chin atop your shoulder, coaxing you to move back against his body.

"i… can't take it much longer, yknow?" he murmurs with an uncharacteristically calm voice. he presses his hips to your backside, letting you feel his large, hard erection dig into your body and letting you know that he was in need. "tell me to leave. tell me to fuck off and i will and i'll never even look in your direction again. i've never had a woman drive me so crazy that i couldn't even step foot in her room without losing my mind."

you tense at both caleb's words and the poking sensation you felt in your back. you almost couldn't believe what was happening - all so fast too. one moment you were pouring stale pretzels into a small bowl for the two of you and the next you were pressed up against your tutor's hard cock. you felt a little speechless.

"caleb… i… i don't know what to say," you whisper, "what is this? what is happening?"

"i don't know how to make this clearer for you," he rumbles, "i feel like a bitch in heat. what you should say is that you want me out of your fucking house and to never contact you again, that's the script here. i'm not paid to be here and fucking lust over you but i am, and i need to go."

the non-existent distance between you two only made it harder for caleb to conceal the extent of his desire. his cock throbbed like it was trying to free itself from the confines of his pants. you took a long time to respond - or at least it felt incredibly long to caleb's distorted mind. but that distortion came to an end when you turned your head back to look at him with those pretty eyes of yours. your expression was unreadable.

"but what if i don't want you to leave?"

𖤐

"fuck. that's my nasty girl. that's my little slut," caleb grunts in your ear. your legs quiver in an attempt to hold themselves up against him at the ninety-degree angle you were in. the only support you were given were caleb's hands bruising into your hips and holding you still as he battered into from behind. every thrust from him threatened to topple you over flat onto your stomach and atop the small table underneath you.

"c…caleb! caleb, agh!" you cried with your head tucked into your chin.

"yes, pretty girl? is it too much for you?" caleb mocked you. "i told you to kick me out, i told you didn't i?" his pace didn't relent at your cries, not one bit. he's waited so long for this. he's waited so long to feel your cunt squeezing him like this. his imagination compared nothing to the real feeling of your slick, fluffy pussy sucking him in and constricting around his cock so eagerly. you were enjoying it too, he could tell. the way you cried out his name like that - all honeyed. you gave into his perversion so easily it almost makes him wish he did it earlier.

"mmngh… fuuuck, you're tightening around me so good. have you also thought about me fucking you senselessly like this? 'cause this pretty pussy ain't letting me go." caleb grins and leans back to get a better view of his cock pounding into your creamed cunt. the sight of his thickness disappearing within you only to come back out coated in more of your arousal left him feeling insatiable. every thrust squelched out shared juices onto the below table and covered your classwork, consequently drenching them in slick and arousal.

"c-caleb, m…my work… fuck… i-i need that," you whine. caleb grins and shrugs; his pace still wasn't relenting and he certainly wasn't moving you elsewhere. your pussy was nice and delicious just like this.

"get new copies," he grunts, "and then you can invite me over again to help you. after all, you can't do these without my help, can you?"

caleb leans over your back and fully wraps his arms around your midsection for better, deeper thrusts. every slide in ensured that every inch of him down to his ballsack was burrowed into you; every slide out ensured that the curve of his cock dragged your pussy walls with it. the noises between your bodies were abhorrently obscene and echoed in your room with each sloppy thrust. you've never been fucked so hungrily in your life up until the monster cock that was caleb's.

caleb kept one strong bicep wrapped around your waist to hold you still while the other moved down to your clit. his fingers deftly played with your swollen nub, moving it in circles and pinching it to help you build up an orgasm. you squealed at the extra sensation of pleasure coming from in-between your legs, it was so strong that you almost buckled over from overstimulation.

caleb simply laughs at you and toys with your bundle of nerves even more. "feel good?" he purrs. "keep me around for these tutoring sessions and i'll give you much more than a few As. i'll give you my cock and reward you for doing so well. do you want that? do you wanna get drunk on my cock for being such a good girl?"

he was taunting you, clearly, but a two-in-one deal of good grades and good dick was tempting. despite being a withering mess who was getting her cunt squashed with each passing second, you managed to suck in a breath and whimper out an answer. "ngh… y…yes, i want that."

"what was that? couldn't hear you, honey," he sneers. "i'm not the type of guy to just take what i want, y'know? i want my girl just as eager as me. do i have to ask you again?"

"n-no, i want it!"

caleb smirks. "that's it. nasty thing ~."

with his ego stroked by your words, caleb increases the speed of his thrusts vigorously. he's held back an orgasm so diligently this entire time for the sake of savoring your sloppy wet cunt. but now, knowing he'll be back here in due time to do this all over again, he no longer has to deny himself the beauty of orgasming inside of you.

you beat him to it. your legs failed you as soon as your orgasm hit and left you limp in caleb's arms. he was strong enough to catch you and hold you up against him which left your legs dangling mid-air. you couldn't even yell or scream as you came, your voice was entirely gone and all that was left were a few weak squeaks coming from your throat. your sweet walls contracted around caleb so strongly that you could feel his struggle to move.

he groaned loudly in your ear and then practically whimpered your name. you were tight since he first sank into your warmth, but this was another level of constriction that he didn't think was possible. his hips stuttered pathetically as they could no longer sustain a rhythmic pattern. he gave out right there. his cock pulsed in you like a second heartbeat as a deep wave of semen filled the hilt of your pussy and gushed out from your folds from the overflow.

caleb went silent as his own voice was stolen by the insurmountable pleasure he was feeling. he was pumping spurt after spurt within you, and he could only blame the months he's lived so pent up. he groans again; eyes water slightly from the intensity of the euphoria. "oh my god…" he whispers.

the both of you wait until the strength of your orgasms subsided before even facing each other. caleb nudges your cheek with his nose but your eyes were closed in exhaustion. with the little energy he had left, he slipped out of your sticky pussy and carried you a few feet to your bed. he laid you down gently and took the time to appreciate the view. the girl he's been obsessing for better half of the year was now fucked and filled, good and well by him. you looked too pretty like this; he was sure he was looking at perfection.

caleb lays down next you on your bed and cups your cheek. he was worried that this was an all too familiar gesture, but having your cervix filled with his cum was probably a little more intimate. as your eyes flutter open to meet caleb's, he smiles and hums.

"you're mine now."

𖤐

[devildomwriter]

Simeon’s Journey

Simeon was introduced to us as an angel, not just any angel but an archangel; A warrior angel in charge of legions of angels.

From season one we immediately learn not everything is as it seems with Simeon. Simeon tends to bend the rules, be more relaxed, and was mentioned as having once been a Seraph, the highest rank of angel in the Celestial Realm.

In the Celestial Realm Simeon was a brother to Lucifer. He was given a rose garden by his Father and watched it diligently while having a great interest in a book of prophecy, one that foretold he’d one day lose his wings. Although this concerned Mammon, Simeon wasn’t particularly bothered.

When the war broke out, Simeon tried to cover for the brothers, and for this, he was demoted to Archangel, a busy position where his job was to defend the realm from the frontlines. Gone were the days of rest and relaxation with his family and two close remaining friends, Raphael and Michael.

To cope with the loss of the brothers, Simeon began to write about them, likely using the book of prophecy as a reference since most of his books reflected what would eventually become reality, with the main protagonist, Henry, replacing MC. These books would eventually be published but upon visiting the Devildom and discovering the brothers were so different from how he remembered he became disheartened and didn’t continue his work until Season Four of the game.

Upon coming to the Devildom in season one Simeon was guarded against Diavolo and didn’t particularly like him. He enjoyed scaring Luke, befriended Solomon, and acted as a messenger for Michael.

In season two things take a turn with Simeon. He’s more relaxed and adjusted to the Devildom and doesn’t hide his secretly stern behavior, even bringing Mammon to tears when put in charge of a play he’d write.

When everyone learned MC would likely die from their abundance of uncontrolled power, the ring of light was given up as an option because it was lost in the war. Simeon keeps quiet but immediately leaves to steal the ring from the celestial realm to save MC’s life.

These actions closely resemble Lilith’s choice which started the war with similar results.

Lilith directly altered a human's lifespan which is forbidden, by offering him stolen fruit from the Celestial Realm.

Simeon more or less altered MC’s lifespan by bringing them the one object that could keep them alive. If MC hadn’t died, Lucifer would have, Lucifer who although forgiven, was still a traitor to the realm.

The final chat of season two is Michael asking to speak with Simeon. It’s clear he’s in trouble for what he’s done.

In season three we aren’t shown anything is too different with Simeon although the brothers find it weird that he’s in the human world as it’s not an archangel's job. During his time at the cafe, Simeon meets with Raphael on multiple occasions who is checking on how he is doing as a human.

In season four Simeon comes back to the Devildom, this time as a human exchange student though this fact is only known by Solomon, Raphael, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Lucifer who keep an eye on him to make sure he is safe from other demons.

Now in the Devildom, it’s clear how powerless Simeon is. Unable to protect himself or his loved ones with an angelic blessing, everyone learns the truth. With the truth revealed and his closest friends there to support him, Simeon finally takes the steps towards accepting his new life as a human and even begins to wear his old celestial realm clothing.

But things don’t end there. Despite his newfound confidence, no more than a few weeks later he becomes sick and unsettled, even missing part of the RAD Science Fair to stay home.

While observing Simeon one day, Lucifer notices his aura has changed and when he confronts Solomon, Solomon reveals that Simeon is turning into a demon and he has been since the human world.

Moments we can see this too in the human world were Simeon’s teasing in the “Celestial Realm”, his threats to the brothers in the cafe, and his confession to Lucifer that he feared his own Father or an aspect of him.

Simeon may not understand what’s happening to him, although he knows his magic is stronger and applauds MC for noticing in chapter 47. Simeon is now forced to make another huge adjustment by becoming a demon, and it’s difficult for the people around him too—after learning Raphael was found staring into space and incorrectly answering questions, even struggling to drink Demonus, which he loves. Michael has been pestering Luke for updates on Simeon, and Luke is now concerned about his condition again.

This will only go a few different ways. Simeon becomes a demon, demon form and all, and perhaps reunites as brother with the other seven, or he’s going to fight against the change to become an angel again as even Raphael states he believes Simeon is better at his “job” than he used to be.

Depending on how Simeon copes with this change, it’s either a tragedy or a new beginning. Simeon has always been disillusioned with his job, even telling MC he believed angels couldn’t have dreams of what they wanted to do, and drunkenly sobbing to Lucifer that he’s now more of a middle management type.

Either way, for Simeon and everyone around him, it’s hardly the ending.

[writerofautumnnights]

A Dance with the Devil

*No spoilers. It takes place before the brothers return to Mississippi

pairing: Elias “Stack” Moore x Black!OC

sumary: Lena Pearl, a waitress in Al Capone's world, confronts Elias "Stack" Moore, a man caught in the same violent life she tries to escape. As tensions rise, they both face the uncomfortable truth about their shared darkness. Their connection is undeniable, but will it be their salvation—or their undoing?

warmings: angust, mention of death, internal conflicts, survival and violence. English is not my first language.

word count: 4,7K

-

The Green Mill - Chicago, 1929

The cutting Chicago wind was no match for the heat emanating from the basement beneath the old barbershop. Lena Pearl adjusted her string of fake pearls as she descended the wooden stairs that creaked under her careful steps. Her emerald-green dress – simple enough not to draw attention on the streets, yet elegant enough for the job – reflected the yellowish glow of the strategically placed lamps around the lounge.

"The princess has arrived," murmured Big Joe, the security guard stationed at the inner door. He was one of the few men Lena allowed to speak to her that way.

"Mr. Capone asked for you three times today."

Lena just nodded, without revealing the weight those words carried. Working for Al Capone was like dancing constantly on the edge of a cliff – dangerous, but impossible to walk away from. There was a strange vertigo in that routine, as if she lived suspended between the urge to disappear and the need to keep being seen.

The Green Mill was buzzing despite it being only Tuesday.

The economic crisis that ravaged the country seemed only to intensify people’s thirst. The saxophone wept on the small improvised stage while white men in expensive suits mingled with South Side workers – all equal in their pursuit of the oblivion only forbidden alcohol could provide. It was ironic – the deeper the country sank, the more vibrant that basement became as a refuge for broken lives.

"Bourbon for table three and a double whiskey for the man with the hat in the corner," said Gina, another waitress, hurrying by. "Oh, and watch out for that new guy. Stack, I think. He’s been watching you since you walked in."

Lena discreetly lifted her gaze toward the indicated direction. In the shadows, partially hidden by the haze of cigarette smoke, a Black man in a dark gray suit stared at her without disguising it. There was something in his eyes – not the usual lust or curiosity Lena was used to ignoring. It was as if he recognized her from somewhere impossible, from a life she had never lived.

She looked back. For the first time in a long while, Lena allowed herself to hold someone’s gaze. There was a restlessness sneaking under her skin – recognition, maybe? Or just loneliness? Elias “Stack” Moore wasn’t just a new man at the bar. He was a living question mark, a reminder that she could still be moved by something other than fear or cynicism.

As she served the tables, she felt the weight of that gaze on her back.

For the first time in ages, Lena felt the loneliness she carried like a second skin. Among so many, she was always alone – it was what kept her safe, what kept her alive in a world where women like her served only temporary, limited purposes. And now, there was a man who seemed to see beyond the role she performed every night.

"Miss Pearl." The deep, controlled voice surprised her as she turned from a freshly attended table. Elias was there, too close, too real. "Allow me to introduce myself, Stack."

"I know who you are," she replied, offering neither a hand nor a welcome. "And I’m working, Jack."

"Stack," he corrected, with a restrained smile. "Just wanted to say Mr. Capone speaks very highly of you. Says you’re the only honest person in the entire place."

Lena couldn’t suppress a half-laugh. “Mr. Capone has an interesting concept of honesty.”

“Maybe,” Stack stepped aside, allowing her to pass – a rare gesture of respect in that place. “But I’ve learned to trust his judgment when it comes to people.”

Before Lena could reply, the back door burst open violently. Two men in overcoats entered, followed by a blast of cold wind. One of them – short, round-faced, and wearing a dangerous smile – was unmistakable. Al Capone removed his hat, revealing his scarred face, and his eyes immediately found Lena.

“Pearl!” he called out, ignoring the bows and greetings around him. “Bring me my whiskey. The special one.”

Stack watched the subtle transformation in Lena, how her shoulders adjusted, how her expression closed off even more, how she became both more present and more absent at once. To him, it was like watching a butterfly retreat into its cocoon at the first sign of threat.

As she walked away, Stack felt a strange pang. Who was that woman, really? Why did she seem so profoundly alone, even in a crowded room? And why was he, a man used to staring death in the eyes – so unsettled by a simple waitress?

“Always on time, Mr. Capone,” she replied with rehearsed formality, already heading to the bar to fetch the bottle kept especially for the boss.

Elias watched her go, realizing in that instant what Big Joe had hinted at earlier. There was something about Lena Pearl that set her apart, not just her undeniable beauty or the dignified posture she maintained in a world that constantly tried to shrink her. It was something deeper, a quiet resistance that seemed to say:

“I’m here, but I don’t belong to this place. I never will.”

Lena returned with the special bottle of Scotch whisky – smuggled in recently from Canada, on a shipment that had cost three men their lives the week before, though no one spoke of it. She carried it on a silver tray, along with a single crystal glass. At Capone’s table, the men fell silent as she approached.

“Here it is, sir,” she said, placing the tray on the table and pouring the first drink with the precision of someone who knew exactly how much pleased him.

“Thank you, Pearl.” Capone looked up, his eyes lingering on her face for just a little too long. “I missed you last night.”

In the background, the piano began a melancholic melody, blues notes weaving through muffled conversations and thick smoke. The saxophonist – a middle-aged Black man with eyes that looked like they’d seen hell – joined in with a wail that made the hairs on the back of Lena’s neck stand on end.

“I wasn’t feeling well, sir. My apologies.”

Capone nodded slowly, not believing her, but willing to accept the lie – for now. He looked at her like a man who believes he owns everything he sees. And Stack saw it. He also saw the pride in Lena as she masked her contempt behind flawless professionalism. That was resistance in its purest form. And beauty. And pain.

Capone’s gaze drifted past her shoulder, noticing Stack watching the scene quietly.

“Stack!” Capone called, his voice shifting suddenly to a louder, more expansive tone. “Come meet the Green Mill’s crown jewel.”

Elias hesitated for just a second before approaching the table – but that brief pause seemed to stretch, as if he were deciding whether to dive or retreat from the edge of a cliff. His eyes met Lena’s, and in that brief exchange, there wasn’t just tension – there was memory. Not real, but instinctive. As if they recognized in each other something long forgotten, a shared pain disguised as strength.

“Mr. Capone,” Stack greeted with a nod. “We’ve already met.”

Capone raised his eyebrows, a smile with more teeth than joy. It was the kind of smile that served as a warning.

“Have you?” he asked. “My Pearl’s charmed you too? She has that effect on men.” He laughed, but the sound held no warmth – it was just noise, like ice cracking. “But she’s different. Not like the other girls around here.”

Lena remained still, like a painting of herself. Her face was neutral, expressionless, but her clenched jaw betrayed the tension underneath. Stack noticed and understood. Capone’s words, though wrapped in charm, were fences. A territorial warning.

“I can see that,” Stack replied, his voice even, but not his eyes. His eyes said something else. They said he truly saw Lena. “Some people carry their own light. Even in the dark.”

The saxophone, almost as if conspiring with the moment, let out a sharp note – nearly a wail. The music captured what words couldn’t: That something there was on the verge of breaking.

Capone took a sip of his whiskey, his eyes following Stack with measured interest. “Stack did us a big favor last night,” he said, his tone taking on a more performative flair.

“That issue with the Irish on the North Side? Taken care of.”

Lena’s stomach tightened at the violence in the memory. That morning’s newspaper headline returned like a punch:

Two bodies floating in the river,

Enough bullets to erase names, stories, families.

Now reduced to mere statistics – and silence.

“Stack has a steady hand,” Capone continued, his pride laced with provocation. “Not like those amateurs who make a lot of noise and do little else.”

Elias kept his expression unreadable, but his eyes sought Lena’s – for just a second too long. And she saw it. There was something there – a tremor, perhaps regret, or the shadow of doubt. Not something that could be said out loud. But it was there.

“I just did what needed to be done,” Stack replied. There was weight in his words and emptiness too. Like a man used to digging holes inside himself.

Capone laughed loudly, slapping the table with delight. “Modest! I like that in a man. Makes doing business easier.”

Then he turned to Lena with that look – the one that always reminded her of her place.

“Pearl, bring us another bottle. I want to properly celebrate Mr. Moore’s success.”

"Yes, sir," she repeated. But her thoughts remained tangled in the truth she couldn’t ignore.

Stack was like the others. A killer. A man who took lives for money, for loyalty to Capone, or for any excuse that helped him sleep through the night. And still… he had looked at her as if she were whole – as if both of them might find some kind of salvation in each other’s eyes. That hurt more than any lie. Because Lena didn’t want to feel that. She couldn’t afford to.

The music seemed to change, as if the room itself could hear her thoughts. It grew heavier, more oppressive.The bass throbbed like a broken heart, while the saxophone cried notes that clawed through the air, sharp with regret.

“Pearl?” Capone’s voice pulled her back. “The bottle?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry.”

Lena turned toward the storeroom where the special bottles were kept, suddenly suffocated by the heat and smoke in the room. She needed air, space to think. To process the disappointment she wasn’t supposed to feel – Because what had she expected? That in this nest of vipers, one man might be different?

“Stack, go with her,” Capone ordered, voice casual, but his eyes calculating. “Show her which bottles we brought back from the Jefferson Park stash.”

Stack nodded and followed Lena, keeping a respectful distance as they moved through the crowded room. The singer had taken the stage now, her husky voice rising above the instruments, singing a blues made famous by Ma Rainey:

“Trust no man, no further than your eyes can see… Trust no man, no further than your eyes can see… For a man’s got a heart full of jealousy...”

The lyrics hit like a warning, a painful truth that echoed in Lena’s ears as she walked, hyper-aware of Stack’s footsteps behind her. Every syllable a sting. Every note a reminder.

When they finally reached the hallway that led to the storeroom – away from Capone’s watchful eyes and his men – Lena stopped abruptly and turned to face Stack. There was fire in her eyes. But it wasn’t just anger. It was fear too. Of him. Of herself. Of all of it.

“The Irish,” she said, her voice low but laced with something trembling between disgust and necessity. “Was it you?”

Stack glanced around, making sure they were alone before answering. His eyes returned to her with the same intensity as before but now, there was a thread of exhaustion in them.

“Is that what matters to you?” he asked, his voice lower than usual. “Or is it just something to help you keep your distance?”

“Don’t answer a question with another question,” Lena snapped, anger rising in her like a rising tide. “Two families lost their sons yesterday. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Stack stepped closer – still composed, but his eyes betrayed a storm beneath. “Those men tried to kill three of ours last week. They were planning to raid this place tomorrow night.”

“Ours?” Lena let out a bitter laugh, but it came out like a blade. “So you're one of them now.”

“I don’t consider myself anything but what I am,” Stack replied, voice quieter now, as if speaking from the bottom of a well.“A man trying to survive in a city that only gives people like us certain paths.”

The music from the club reached them like a whisper, the blues seeping through the walls like the heartbeat of a wounded creature. It echoed everything they weren’t ready to say.

“And what path is that?” Lena asked, barely breathing.

“Killing for money? Doing the dirty work for men like Capone?”

“And what’s your path, Lena?” Stack shot back, eyes burning. “Pouring drinks for men who look at you like you’re for sale? Smiling while dying a little more inside every night? Pretending you don’t see the bodies being dragged out the back?”

Lena blinked, as if his words were wind throwing dust into open wounds. He was right and that hurt more than any lie.

"At least I don’t pull the trigger," she said, steady on the outside, but wavering within. Because she knew – even without blood on her hands, she was still part of that theater of horror.

"No," Stack murmured, his tone now more sorrowful than accusatory. "You just serve the drink that celebrates after the trigger’s been pulled."

The silence that settled between them was thicker than the stifling air of the corridor. It wasn’t just silence – it was the weight of everything they felt, and everything they wanted to deny.

The music outside seemed to swell, as if the saxophone understood the gravity of that moment. A melodic lament, like a warning that what was being said couldn’t be taken back.

"We need to get that bottle," Lena said finally, her voice slipping back into a practical tone. "Capone’s waiting."

"Capone’s always waiting," Stack muttered, more to himself than to her. "The question is: how long are we going to keep doing what he expects?"

Lena didn’t respond. The question echoed inside her like a prophecy. Then she turned and continued down the hall toward the storage room, her footsteps blending with the muffled rhythm of the blues that followed them like a ghost through the dimly lit corridor.

When they reached the door, Stack reached out and gently took her arm. It wasn’t force – it was an anchor.

"Lena," he said, a vulnerability trembling beneath the surface of his voice, "we’re not as different as you want to believe."

She looked at his hand on her arm, then up at his face. And what she saw there – honesty, doubt, fear – scared her more than any threat ever could. Because it was real. Because she was on the verge of believing it, too.

"That’s what scares me," she whispered, almost regretfully. And then she opened the door.

Stack followed her inside. He closed the door slowly, like someone closing a confessional. The sound of music became even more muffled.

The pantry was a narrow cubicle, barely larger than a closet. Shelves of worm-eaten wood supported rows of carefully organized bottles–some with legitimate labels, others with homemade seals, all containing the forbidden elixir that kept Chicago running like a drunken clock. The only light came from a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, swaying gently, casting dancing shadows on the exposed brick walls.

Stack adjusted the red handkerchief in the breast pocket of his pinstripe suit–a touch of color in a man who seemed made of shadows and restraint. His presence there, in the tight space, was like an eclipse; he occupied no more physical space than necessary, but his aura filled the environment. He was the type of man who had learned to make the minimum seem impossible to ignore.

“Third shelf, second row,” he murmured, approaching Lena from behind. It was strange how he seemed to know the place better than she did, each word measured like expensive whiskey–warm, direct, impossible to forget. “The whiskey came from a shipment we received yesterday. Legitimate Scotch. A man died for it.”

“Just one?” Lena asked bitterly, stretching to reach the bottle. The movement drew attention to the scar on her right wrist, a thin, whitish line that extended across her exposed skin. Her sleeveless dress left her arms completely bare, revealing not only the scar but also the delicate strength of her shoulders.

Stack noticed, but didn’t comment. In his world, every scar had a story someone preferred to forget. He knew that kind of silence well.

“I like to know who I’m dealing with,” he said, his voice low like a confessional. “And so do you, right? That’s why you asked about the Irish.”

Lena reached for the bottle, her slender fingers closing around the amber glass. The liquid inside shimmered under the precarious light like melted gold. Gold with the taste of blood.

“I just want to know what kind of man I’m trapped in a pantry with,” she replied, without turning. “Self-preservation.”

Stack almost smiled. There was something in her calculated coldness that fascinated him–perhaps because it sounded exactly like the lies he told himself every morning when he woke up.

“You asked me if I pulled the trigger,” he said, advancing a step. The space was so tight that the heat from his body reached her back. “You want to know if I’m a killer or a man with principles?”

“Is there a difference in this place?” She finally turned, the bottle between them like a fragile barrier.

The proximity was dangerous. There, in the yellowish light, Lena could see the golden grillz that adorned his teeth, gleaming discreetly when he spoke, the way a vein pulsed almost imperceptibly at his temple, the texture of skin marked by years under the merciless sun. Too many human details for a man who should be just another customer, just another danger to avoid.

“In 1917, I enlisted in the 369th Infantry Regiment,” Stack said, his voice suddenly distant, as if he were reciting facts about someone else. “Harlem’s ‘Hellfighters,’ that’s what they called us. I spent 191 days on the front, without rest, without replacement. More than any other American unit.”

Lena wasn’t expecting a confession. Not there, not now. The entire Green Mill was waiting for them to return with a bottle of whiskey, not with war secrets.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to understand,” he said, his eyes meeting hers with uncomfortable intensity. “I wasn’t a violent man before the war. Afterward… afterward, violence began to make sense. Something about surviving changes the way you see the world.”

The smell of old wood mixed with the subtle aroma of whiskey filled the air between them. Outside, muffled by the thick walls, the piano melody continued, an ironic soundtrack for that confession no one had asked for.

“The Irish were armed,” he continued, something trembling beneath the surface of his words. “They were going to kill everyone at the Miller’s Club on 35th Street. There were women there. Children in the back. Employees’ children.”

Lena felt a shiver run down her spine. Stack wasn’t justifying himself. He was sharing a burden with someone he sensed might understand. The burden of impossible choices.

“I’m no better than you, Lena. I’m no worse. We’re just two survivors caught in Capone’s web, trying not to be devoured.”

The light flickered for a moment, as if the building’s electricity felt the weight of that conversation. In the brief moment of dimness, both their faces seemed more vulnerable, stripped of the masks they wore in the hall.

“Your eyes recognized me when I entered that room,” Stack murmured, his voice now almost a caress. “Why?”

The question caught her off guard. It was true–something about him had awakened an instinctive recognition, like an echo from another life. Was it the way he carried his own pain without ostentation? Or perhaps it was just the loneliness she recognized, so similar to her own?

“I know your type,” Lena replied, trying to rebuild the wall he was, without realizing, tearing down. “Men who think they can save the world, or at least themselves, by working for the devil.”

Stack’s lips curved into an almost imperceptible smile–that rare smile Gina had mentioned, like the sun breaking through at the end of a cloudy day. It lasted only a second, but it was enough to completely transform his austere face, revealing the man behind the legend that Chicago was already building around him.

“And you?” he asked, leaning slightly. The space between them diminished with each breath. The perfectly adjusted tie at his neck seemed a contradiction to the controlled intensity in his eyes. “What do you think you’re saving by working here?”

She could feel the warmth of his breath–whiskey and cigarettes, but also something cleaner, like mint. A man who arrived without making noise, who made entire rooms fall silent by instinct, but who cared about insignificant details like his own breath, even in a world of chaos. This disturbed her more than any threat.

“I’m saving the only thing I have left,” she answered with a honesty that surprised her. “The illusion that I still have a choice.”

Stack raised his hand, hesitant. For an instant, Lena thought he would touch her face – a gesture she wouldn’t know how to receive. But he only adjusted a lock of hair that had escaped her careful hairdo, his finger lightly brushing the skin of her temple.

“We all have choices, Lena,” he said, his deep voice carrying the weight of a thousand regrets. “They’re just not the choices we’d like to have.”

The distant sound of breaking glass in the hall brought them back to reality. The world outside continued its course, indifferent to the secrets exchanged in the small pantry.

“Capone is waiting,” said Lena, resuming her professional posture like someone putting on armor.

Stack nodded, taking a step back. The space between them expanded again, but something had changed in the air. An invisible bridge had been built–fragile, perhaps temporary, but undeniably real.

“You know what the hardest part of the war was?” he asked, as she turned to leave. “It wasn’t the combat, the bodies, not even the constant fear. It was coming home and discovering there was no more home. That the place we return to is never the same as the one we left.”

Lena stopped with her hand on the doorknob. Her back was to him, but Stack could see the tension in her shoulders, the rigidity that betrayed that his words had reached some deep place.

“You know that feeling, don’t you?” he insisted. “Of belonging to a place that no longer exists.”

Lena closed her eyes for a brief moment. Images of a simple house in New Orleans, the smell of jambalaya on the stove, laughter of children playing in the yard. A world that had collapsed so long ago that sometimes it seemed to have been only a particularly vivid dream.

“We’re taking too long,” she said, her firm voice contradicting the tremor in her hands. “And that’s dangerous for both of us.”

When she turned, bottle in hand, her eyes avoided his. Stack understood the retreat. He knew that dance too well–the cautious approach, the mutual recognition, and then the strategic withdrawal. It was the only way to survive when you carried more scars inside than out.

“What do you think Capone is really celebrating with this whiskey?” he asked, deliberately changing the tone of the conversation, offering her the exit she silently requested.

“Something none of us wants to know,” replied Lena, grateful for the change. “Ignorance is sometimes the only protection we have.”

Stack held the door for her – an anachronistic gesture of chivalry that seemed almost comical in that setting of criminality and survival. But Lena noticed how he positioned himself strategically, so that he would be the first to enter the dark corridor. Protection, not courtesy. The difference mattered.

As they walked back through the corridor, the sound of jazz grew progressively, like a tide rising to engulf them. The smell of sweat and cheap perfume mixed with tobacco announced their return to the real world– a world of masks and well-rehearsed roles.

“I know you don’t trust me,” murmured Stack, leaning slightly so that only she could hear. “And you’re right. But if you ever need help…”

“I won’t,” Lena cut in, but without the coldness from before. There was something almost like gratitude in her tone.

When they were about to emerge back into the hall, Stack stopped abruptly. Lena almost collided with his broad back.

“What is it?” she asked, alarmed.

“I saw something in the back of the storage room,” he replied, his voice suddenly tense. “Boxes that shouldn’t be there. With military markings.”

Lena felt a chill. Weapons. They could only be weapons. Capone was planning something bigger than the usual territorial disputes.

“Forget what you saw,” she whispered urgently. “For your own good.”

Stack stared at her, the dim light of the corridor creating shadows on his angular face. “Is that what you do? Forget what you see?”

The question hit Lena like a slap. For a moment, the air between them seemed too heavy to breathe.

“I survive,” she finally responded. “It’s what we all do.”

The music in the hall changed to something more lively, as if mocking the tension between them. A loud, fake laugh from Capone crossed the stuffy air, a timely reminder of what awaited them.

Stack held her arm gently, his warm fingers against her cold skin. “There’s a difference between surviving and living, Lena. At some point, we’ll have to choose.”

Before she could respond, he released her and went ahead, emerging into the golden light of the hall like a man without weight on his shoulders, his face already wearing the mask of efficiency that Capone appreciated.

Lena breathed deeply and followed him, the bottle of whiskey in her hands weighing like lead. As she approached Capone’s table, where Stack had already resumed his place, she realized something disturbing–for the first time in years, she felt fear. Not the familiar fear of Capone, of violence or poverty.

It was the fear of possibilities. The fear that perhaps, just perhaps, there were more paths than she had allowed herself to see.

When she placed the bottle before Capone, her eyes briefly crossed with Stack’s. In that silent look, there was an unspoken promise–or perhaps a warning. His eyes, which normally seemed always distant, trapped in a past he never talked about, were now firmly anchored in the present. In Lena. In possibilities too dangerous to name.

“Stack!” Capone’s voice cut through the air. “Where’s your brother tonight? We need the best for tomorrow’s job.”

“Smoke is taking care of that business in the South Side,” Stack replied, his voice returning to its usual formality. “He’ll be here early tomorrow.”

Lena noticed how Stack transformed near Capone–every movement calculated, every expression a perfect mask. It was as if he stacked layers of protection between his true self and the world. Stack. The man who always had something stacked: money, marked cards, too many secrets.

The future was as uncertain as Chicago on a foggy night. But one thing was certain: that meeting in the pantry had planted a seed of doubt that, like the weeds in the city’s abandoned lots, would be difficult to eradicate.

And as Capone raised his glass in a toast, celebrating some bloody victory, Lena knew that something had changed inside her–something silent, dangerous, and irreversible like the tick-tock of a time bomb hidden in the city’s basements.

Nobody knew for sure where Stack had come from, only that he appeared in Chicago–along with his brother–on a night of heavy rain, with a worn suitcase and a look that said he had left more than memories behind. Now, Lena wondered what else he hid behind that gaze which, for a brief moment in the pantry, had lowered its guard only for her.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

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Heyyyyyyyy,

There's no tag list, I just had to launch something that was burning in my mind as soon as I left the cinema. Feel free to show your love. Until next time 🥹❤️

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