#its kind of hard to describe. to me it Feels Like Coming Home

[lunar-fey]

you have been ASKED!!!!!! use this chance to go off about something fun that you want to rant about. it can be one sentence or be an essay. do whatever! live life!

hello. today i ask all of you gathered here to think about mushishi. this is a mushishi propaganda post. i was going to rant abt how a lot of people discredit anime as a whole bc they mostly only know of shonen and maybe shoujo, and more people need to give seinen anime a chance. but now it is specifically about mushishi.

fun fact about mushishi btw, i read once in an interview that the mangka created ginko, the main character, when she was in a dark and low place in life, and made him to be kind of the ideal friend that she thought would bring her out of this! and thats so cool. hes literally the friend ever!

anyway mushishi is a largely episodic (imo you can watch it largely out of order and be fine. a few characters show back up, and occasionally other events are referenced, but after watching in order a few times i now usually just pick and watch my favorites. you can do whatever you want!) about a man named ginko who lives in a world with creatures called "mushi" (literally means bug if you dont know!) which are invisible to the average human eye, and are kind of like spirits but if they were critters. they are often just living their lives, but sometimes they cause detrimental effects to humans, and ginko travels to help people with these problems, often simply by giving people assistance, rather than like. Fighting The Thing. imo it can be interpreted a lot of ways, but many times it speaks strongly to me as a person with chronic illness - sometimes there isnt one single simple kill it with hammers solution. sometimes you just do your best to mitigate the symptoms. it is a very down to earth and thoughtful experience overall, with some incredibly gorgeous visuals and sound design.

its my person opinion that there is at least one mushishi episode that will speak to any given person in a deep way. even if it isnt Life Changing for you, i still think its a very meaningful show with a lot of interesting things to say. it can be darker at times, but largely retains its hopefulness toward the world, and i think it can like. still help you feel better and more alright with things. but also it WAS life changing for me, and if you like more slower paced stories that dont involve perfect solutions or fighting your problems with fists, but rather learning to live with the world and talking things out, you might like it! give it a try :)

[twinkletfout]

Feeling 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 during ovulation

Include: toji, gojo, nanami, choso, (smut)

GojoSatoru is the kind of man who keeps himself notified when you are ovulating, because he knows that's when you can feel him the most, you don't even have to tell him that you want to do it, he would just come to you. Wrapping his hands around your waist as he softly kisses the sensitive area around your ear as he murmurs “wanna do it?” He knows you will agree, just after your confirmation, he will carry you to the bedroom all while kissing you, whispering the nastiest things in your ear, He makes sure that your pussy is moulded in the shape of his dick, whimpering your name before he comes undone inside you. He would pull out of you watching his cum mixed with your juices dripping out, oh how much he loves watching that, he would use his fingers to push it back in, curving his fingers in a way while your body jerks and shivers, a devilish smirk on his face as he does so.

NanamiKento loves fucking you when you are ovulating. Because you are so bold in bed you make it perfectly clear what you want and kento nanami is so desperate for you in that state. When he comes back home from work, he would know from the look on your face or from the way you act that you need him. In a split second, he would push you onto the wall, kissing you with so much force that you can't think of anything else but him. Nanami is a man of few words but when it comes to making you feel good, he spouts all the things he wants to do to you. “Let me fuck you, baby, please..” he would whisper. God, Even listening to his voice can get you so, so wet. He would be so desperate for you that he would take you right there against the wall, teasing your throbbing clit in a way that your eyes rolled back as he poured ropes and ropes of cum inside you. From the look on his face you know there's so much for you to come on the bed.

TojiFushiguro loves it when you beg, beg for him to make you feel good. Of course he want to fuck you so hard till you see stars. But he loves the look on your face when you are so shameless in front of him when you are ovulating. Usually its him, all over you to let him fuck you but this time Toji would spread your legs as he teases your pretty pussy, softly pinching your clit as it throbs under his touch. “You need me so bad, don't you?” you would moan as a response. He so loves teasing you, he would force you to push his cock inside you yourself, teasing himself at your entrance. He would describe how you look under him, making you even more embarrassed as he would force you to look at him. When he finally bends to plant a kiss on your lips, he would thrust inside you without a second thought, so quick that your legs tremble at the intrusion. You wouldn't even remember anything after that, he would fuck you so hard and make sure that he is deep inside as he cums while all you can feel is immense pleasure spreading all over as your whole body trembles.

ChosoKamo definitely notices the changes when you are ovulating. He would be lying if he said that it didn't turn him on when you would sit on his lap, he loves it when you grind on him, he would understand what you want as he carries you in a swift motion and places you on the kitchen counter as he kneels to taste you. He would earn a few orgasam from you, his face completely messy with your nasty juices as he licks his lips. He places your leg over his shoulder as he would push into you moaning your name. "t's pussy is all mine" His eyebrows frown, as he comes to kiss you as you taste yourself on his lips, he would slowly slide inside you. He is so messy when it comes to sex, drooling, trembling, thrusting like an animal in heat. And still he knows exactly how to fuck you so good. He would grab on to your hips as his body jerks in a final motion before he comes. Sliding out his cock as he covers you with sweet kisses.

[ellecdc]

HEY POOKIE!!!!

Could I request a fic with either poly moon water or poly marauders where reader has had mental health issues but they were getting better and then they slip back into them. This happens to me in moments and I have to remind myself that it’s part of my progress but it would be so nice if I had someone else to say it too. No pressure lovely!!!!

I ADORE all of your marauders work!! Like OML I never know how much I needed poly moonwater until youuuu❤️❤️❤️😘

hi babes! totally get where you're coming from re: mental health issues. It's a marathon, not a race. and I'm so glad you love moonwater! my evil plan of converting the entire fandom (lol) is succeeding. I opted to go with the marauders but it's quite sirius centric

poly!marauders x fem!reader who is struggling with her mental health

CW: non-sexual nudity [nothing is described], discussion of dark mental headspace and anxiety/depression [again, nothing is described]

You felt awful.

You knew the boys would be understanding, but it didn’t make you feel any better about your behaviour.

You’d found yourself slipping back into familiar and darker headspaces as of late, and though you couldn’t deny the disconcerting comfort that familiarity brought, you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to fully fall back into it; you worked so hard to move beyond this, and you had been doing so well.

It hurt worse now that you felt like you weren’t just disappointing yourself anymore, but also disappointing three other people who - for whatever reason - cared an awful lot about you.  

You’d been inching closer and closer to a panic all day and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed when you got home and pretend the world didn’t exist for a few hours days weeks. 

Those kinds of plans don’t work when you live with three other people, two of which have the tendency to coddle you.

You knew that irritability was one of the symptoms of your anxiety, but knowing that didn’t stop the sting of your words as they left your lips. 

James was too nice, too bright, too happy, too lovely. You felt like the polar opposite of your sweetest boyfriend, which made you feel even more disappointing than you already had. And Remus was a fixer; he had a tendency to see a problem and immediately start problem solving, but that’s not what you needed right now.

Of course, you didn’t say that.

Of course, you got angry and lashed out at them before storming off to your room and slamming the door.

What started off as feeling blue quickly spiralled into a low affect. Feeling low left you increasingly anxious. Your anxiety left you feeling disappointing and less than, which caused you to feel depressed. The more depressed you got, the more anxious you became. The more anxious you became, the more depressed you felt.

It was a vicious cycle and you were stuck in its seemingly never ending assault on you.

And now, you weren’t just depressed and anxious; you were also feeling terribly guilty and overwhelmed at the thought of having upset Remus and James. 

Remus, who only wanted to help, who only wanted you to feel better, who only wanted to care for you. 

And James, who only wanted to perhaps share a little bit of his joy with you on the off chance it could brighten your day.

You were awful.

Horrid.

You didn’t deserve them, and they didn’t deserve you - they deserved better. You deserved nothing.

You’re not sure how long you had been standing under the spray of the water with your head against the cool tile when you heard a gentle knock against the glass of the shower door.

You felt the irritability surge in your blood again at the intrusion of your pity party, but tried your hardest to take a steadying breath before you hummed a quiet “yeah?”

“Can I come in?” You heard Sirius’ voice ask from the other side, apparently having gotten home sometime during your meltdown.

He could, though you weren’t sure he should.

You were terrible after all.

Horrid. 

The glass door popped open and Sirius shoved his face in. You didn’t bother turning your face towards him but you could feel the questions permeating his being nonetheless.

“I’m coming in.” He announced, deciding on your behalf. 

You heard the sound of his clothes falling to the bathroom floor, and you knew if Remus were in here he’d be scolding him: “there’s a hamper right there, Sirius.” 

But Remus wasn’t here because you were awful and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the sodding hamper nor Sirius’ clothes littering the floor.

Some of your steam escaped as Sirius opened the shower door fully and you were accosted with cool air that left your body covered in goosebumps. He corrected it quickly by standing under the spray with you and pushing his front up against your back, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“Fuck, you take hot showers.” He commented.

Usually you’d laugh.

“Sorry.” You said instead.

He rubbed at your hips where his hands had fallen with his thumbs, eliciting another layer of goosebumps on your skin. 

“You’re not feeling too good, are you baby?” He asked quietly.

You let out an exhausted breath. “I don’t feel good; I’m no good.” You responded just as quietly.

Sirius ducked his chin down to kiss your shoulder before quickly replacing it.

“That’s not true.”

You didn’t respond, glad that the water streaming over your face hid the evidence of the tears escaping your eyes.

Wordlessly, Sirius pulled away and grabbed your shampoo, working it into your hair. You did nothing to help him in his task, keeping your head pressed against the shower wall as he lathered the soap on your scalp. He pulled the handheld down to rinse it out, paying special attention to point the spray away from your face since you didn’t seem too fussed over protecting your own eyes. He combed some conditioner through your hair and rinsed it out in much the same manner before grabbing a loofa and lathering body wash over your form.

“Sometimes it’s two steps forward and one step back.” He commented, finally breaking the silence that had long been only the sound of the water falling and each of your breaths. “But that still means you’re one step forward.”

A sob escaped you, causing Sirius to pause in his ministrations and pull you back into his chest again.

He didn’t say anything else; he knew better. Of course he would, Sirius sometimes understood this side of you better than the others did. Sirius had a tendency to fall into darker times too, also having a penchant for lashing out at those closest to him when things felt like too much.

He let you cry, standing under the likely too-hot-for-his-tastes water, as he rocked you back and forth with your head leaned back, resting on his shoulder as you faced toward the ceiling. 

“Do they hate me?” You whimpered eventually, trying to convince your lungs to take in slower, deeper breaths.

“Of course they don’t; you know they don’t.”

“Are they mad at me?”

You could feel Sirius shake his head, but he answered you verbally anyway.

“No, doll. They worry, is all.”

You didn’t like that. You didn’t want them to worry. “I’m fine.”

“I know you are.” He agreed readily. “They do too.”

You let that sit in the foggy air for a little bit.

“Do you know that?” He asked eventually.

“Know what?”

“That you’re okay? That you’re just fine?”

You thought about that for a moment. You were sad, and you were anxious, but were you fine?

You admitted to yourself you felt the familiar tendrils of your darker self pulling at you, but you could also admit it was different this time. You were better, you had been working hard, and most importantly, that hard work was paying off.

You may have been two steps forward and one step back, but you were still one step forward from where you started.

“You’re sure they’re not mad at me?” You asked instead, earning you a chuckle as Sirius turned you in his arms to hold your face between his hands. 

“No one is mad at you, love. I swear it. You are, however, very loved.”

You offered him the best smile you could muster and let him pull you forward for a chaste kiss. 

“Then… yes, I know I’m fine.” You agreed eventually, earning you a beaming smile from your boyfriend.

“Atta girl.” 

Your felt your cheeks heat up at the praise and pushed your forehead into his chest.

“Can we get out of this torture chamber, now? I swear this water is being heated by hellfire.” He joked, leaning around you to turn off the shower without your consent.

“It’s really not that bad.” You argued, earning you a scoff.

“I’m red, doll. The water has marred my skin, perhaps permanently.”

You continued arguing about proper shower etiquette as you rubbed lotion into your skin (and then into Sirius’ for his troubles [he really was sort of red]), and changed into your comfies.

You headed towards the living room before you remembered you were sort of ashamed with yourself for the way you had spoken to the other two boys, but Sirius didn’t allow you to hesitate in the hall as he caught your elbow when your steps faltered and ushered you into the room.

“Boys, we’re really going to have to do something about her shower habits.” He commented as if a) nothing had happened, and b) you weren’t even there. “I’m surprised she hasn’t completely melted her skin off." 

“Perhaps hot showers are how she gets so beautiful, Sirius, ever think about that?” James jested back, earning him an indignant scoff.

“Are you saying I’m not pretty, Jamie?”

“As pretty as Y/N?” Remus interjected, looking between the two of you as if assessing. “No, not at all.” 

“Well I-” Sirius began, but you interrupted.

“I’m sorry.”

Everyone’s shoulders fell as they turned to look at you, clearly willing to brush over the tension if that had been what you wanted.

“I was rude and irritable when I got home, and neither of you deserved that. I’m sorry.”

“Angel…” James started, opening his arms for you which you readily accepted and tucked yourself into his chest.

“I was never mad to begin with, but I’ll go ahead and forgive you right now if that’ll make you feel better, okay?” He murmured into your wet hair.

“Okay. Thank you.” You murmured back.

“You’re too sweet for us, dove.” Remus commented, moving to place a consoling hand on your back.

“I was the opposite of that earlier.” You chuckled at your own expense. 

“Please.” Sirius scoffed derisively. “These two are too nice, especially when you feel like shit; I’ve given them a far harder time than you have, dollface.” 

“It’s true.” James said quickly. “He once told me he’d rather have a cup of tea with his mother than snuggle with me when he was in one of his moods once.”

You gasped and looked at Sirius in horror. “You did not.”

Sirius, not at all guilty, shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure did, and I meant it too.”

“Oh come off it.” Remus chided, pulling Sirius into his side who broke out in a grin, effectively eliminating his earnest facade. 

“No, of course I didn’t mean it.” He relented, leaning further into Remus’ side. 

“I don’t like myself very much when I’m like this.” You admitted quietly.

“We’ll love you enough for all of us in the meantime then, yeah?” James asked, pulling you into his arms tighter.

“Just be patient with yourself dove, you’re much too hard on yourself. We’re here now and we’ll be here when you feel better too.” Remus added.

“Can’t get rid of us that easily, dollface.” Sirius concluded, shooting you a wink.

Two steps forward and one step back.

But you were still one step forward.

You knew you would make two more steps forward again soon.

[6okuto]

i was thinking about oikawa and i just KNOW that he LOVES to be babied. that's just him, yk? like that's totally him and i would love to read about 30 year old professional volleyball player oikawa tooru being babied by his wife

(timeskip, fem!reader) he's just like me fr. i actually wrote something different but there wasn't enough babying so here u go 🥹🙆🏻‍♀️

tooru is one of if not the hardest worker you know, never losing sight of his ambitions and passion. determination lines his veins, and late nights of practice and analysis have seeped into the cartilage between his bones, gluing together what makes tooru oikawa, #17, setter for club athletico san juan.

but it's not oikawa, it's tooru, the boy you met in high school who stumbled down the steps after using a cheesy pick-up line on you and whines when you try to leave his arms for the washroom, who's your husband.

"long day?"

tooru groans and buries himself deeper into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped snug around your middle. he didn't really need to answer—the lit street lights and dim sky outside were answer enough.

holding back a laugh, you comb your fingers through his hair, the familiar scent of jasmine and vanilla dancing its way to you. "proud of you, baby."

your husband's voice is quiet, "thank you."

"you want me to run a bath for you?"

"...maybe later?"

"m'kay. you wanna stay here for a while?"

"yeah." his fingers trace hearts across your back, and when he pouts, you feel it against your skin. "i'm so tired."

pouting too in response, you press a kiss to his head and rub his back. "i know, baby, at least you're home now."

"but then i have to leave you tomorrow."

"and then you come back to me again tomorrow."

"but then i leave again—oh my god, what kind of sick world do we live in?" he whines, letting out a noise that could be described as a choked sob.

and this time, you let yourself laugh. "aw, my poor tooru,"—you cradle his head against you —"the horrors of a job have caught you."

"what if we worked somewhere together?" he lifts his head to look at you.

you raise a brow. "i love you, you're the light of my life, but you are not getting me on that court."

he gapes. "betrayal from my own wife?"

"okay, then come to my job."

"...well—"

"betrayal from my own husband?" you gasp and tooru pouts again—though at this point you're not sure if the original pout ever left to begin with.

it's still just as endearing, and your expression softens. "you'll be fine, 'ru. i'll baby you as much as you want every time you come home."

his pout pulls even more at his lips, and you mirror it. bringing your hands up, you hold his face and squish his cheeks with your words— "i, tooru oikawa, love my wife and my job, and i'm a strong, independent guy who can do anything."

"d'you rilly hafta hol' m'face?"

"it's for the effect and affirmations," you tease, before your amusement softens to something else. "how long are you out tomorrow?"

tooru's jaw drops as much as it can with you holding him in place. "why would you—9 hours!"

and before the dread of leaving you can fully take hold, you kiss his forehead. the apple of his left cheek, the right, then his eyes, his nose, both sides of his jaw, his lips—all with a resounding mwah!

tooru's arms cling tighter, and he leans into each kiss, always chasing your affection though he doesn't have to. you smile at the flush dappled across his face. "see? a kiss for each hour."

he opens his mouth to answer, but then the pout comes back. "each half hour at least. each 15 minutes—"

"tooru." you snort. "what is that, like, 36 kisses?"

"okay, a kiss for each minute."

"babe—"

"you know how hard i train, i know you watched my interview."

and you really don't think you'll make it to 100, much less 500 kisses, but you'll try anyway, even if after the first one, tooru says, "one."

you snicker as you place the next four, and he counts them before pointing out, "you know, kissing your husband is way easier than doing rdl's."

"yes, yes, i know, honey." you softly laugh and press another to the spot between his brows. "i'm not complaining."

he counts again—six, seven, eight, nine—and you remember the determination and patience of oikawa was never separate from tooru, especially not when it came to you.

[gutterfuuck]

“ROI—“

more bff!mark for my baby girls out there, i am watching and lurking when you least expect. the title is based on a song! it is the instrumental for roi. i do not have a specific reason, i just heard it while i was writing and hadn’t a title ready. i saw the phrase “sandbox love never dies” on another work, credit is due there for that!

cw: mdni!, dubcon-ish(? not sure how to describe, haha), smut, mark is pining hard for reader, possibly hint of yandere, this one is kind of long, bff!mark, piv, childhood friends to lovers trope, mark is a little delulu if u squint, virgin!mark (implied), semi-dark content please be aware, reader and mark are in college, reader knows that mark is invincible but that isn’t really important to the story.

mark knew this bedroom all too well. how couldn’t he? you both basically grew up in there together. you were always over at his house, he was always over at yours. inseparable ever since the day he had moved in across from you, sandbox love never dies.

his eyes landed on the fairy lights that were stapled to the wall to keep them in place… he had done that, years ago. he couldn’t bare to see the look of disappointment on your face when you realised that they hadn’t come with a sticky back so you could have them up on your wall. he still remembered the way your eyes lit up when he returned to your home with a stapler in hand, being careful not to staple through the wire. mark’s heart fluttered when he saw your little collection of cereal box figurines; also his doing. he couldn’t believe that you had held onto his gifts for so long, let alone display them proudly as if they were medals. to you, they might as well as be.

“you okay?” you asked, snapping him out of whatever dreamy trance he was in. he snapped his head around back to the tv, the ending credits of the zombie movie rolling on the screen. you had noticed how he had been staring into space for the last half hour of your movie, “me? yeah- i’m good, just thinking about something.” he smiled, quickly rummaging around on the floor to pick up the last of the movie cases, your marathon nearing its end. you were both back in town for the weekend, college kicking you both down and your dorm rooms not homey enough for it to feel right, so you had decided to drop in for a couple of days, killing two birds with one stone and seeing both mark’s parents and yours in one trip. your parents would be coming back later, that’s when the barbecue would come out.

mark switched the disk for the unwatched one, the movie menu popping up shortly after with a blood splatter animation on the title screen, “no don’t play it yet! we gotta refill here.” you spoke, pointing down at the almost empty bowl of chips, save for a few crumbs at the bottom. you had even ran out of cookies, remembering how mark had said that they should stop calling them family size if they were only able to feed two people in the span of an hour or two. you retorted with something about how usually people had self control; you weren’t supposed to scoff down three packs of family value cookies. ever.

“you gonna leave me here, all on my own? out in the open like this? i’m a sitting duck out here.” he joked, a satisfied warmth washing over him as soon as you had laughed. he loved your laugh, always. for as long as he could remember, “like anyone would come attack my house while you’re here, mark.” you rolled your eyes, his heart skipped a beat. he knew how much you relied on him to keep you safe sometimes. already knew that you’d know who to call if you were ever in any danger. he fed on it. you picked up the empty bowls, stacking them inside one another and opening your bedroom door.

“d’you want anything from downstairs?” you asked, holding an empty bottle of pop under your arm, hands preoccupied. mark shook his head, getting up to open your door wider for you, “i think i’ll just stick to eating all of this junk you keep throwing at me.” mark smiled, you smiled. mark’s heart ached.

“don’t you dare press play on that movie, mark grayson!” you yelled from downstairs, just missing the way mark’s cheeks dusted pink at the sound of his name on your tongue. you sounded like an angel. mark’s attention turned to your dresser, the top drawer full of your underwear. how did he know? well, he was the reason for your declining pairs of underwear, the source of the disappearing panties act that you had just brushed off as being forgetful or losing them somehow. he got up, face turning beet red as he stepped towards the drawer, fingers shakily reaching for the handle, slowly, slowly-

“are you going through my stuff?” shit. shit.

you had caught him, after all this time you had caught him. his mind raced for an excuse, his heart threatened to give up on him and he hoped that he would just have a heart attack already, quickly, he had to say something. anything, anything- “i’m kidding! if you’re looking for the remote, you already left it on the bed, silly!”

thank god. thank god.

“right, y-yeah! ha, i must’ve- forgotten..” he laughed nervously, heart still racing in his chest. all he could do was try to steady himself, calm his shaking hands and retreat back to his original seat, on your bed, next to you. he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, couldn’t stop thinking about how he could’ve had you right there if you had actually caught him, couldn’t stop thinking about holding your hands above your head and covering your mouth with his palm, ‘please let me, you don’t understand- just the tip and i’ll be done i swear.. just let me make you take me.’— he was daydreaming again, it was all your fault. he wanted you so badly, so desperately, why couldn’t you see it? why couldn’t you see him?

mark stared blankly at the tv screen with his jaw clenched, looking right through the screen. if he hadn’t had seen this movie dozens of times before with william, he would’ve been missing it. it was as if he was sleeping while sitting up with his eyes open, idle and dormant…

he heard you scream, his body shifting to shield you on instinct, breaking him out of whatever trance he had put himself in. you had thrown your arms over him, eyes squeezed shut. he was ready to fight, but fizzled down when he realised that you had only jumped into his arms for safety because of a jumpscare. a jumpscare. you were pressed up against him, you had almost jumped into his lap. it was like you were doing it on purpose, torturing him just because you could. you clung to him tighter, eyes glued to the screen in fear and anticipation for the next bloody scene…

fuck. he could feel his cock twitching in his jeans, straining against his boxers. leaking, weeping for you, his best friend. he was frozen, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip pulled into his mouth with his teeth so hard that he thought he would make himself bleed- bleed for you-because you were clinging onto him like you needed him. he needed you. he couldn’t help it anymore. it was now or never, here or nowhere.

“m’sorry-“ he said quietly and you turned to him, eyes staring up into his. that sent him over the edge. before you could ask him what he was apologising for, you were on your back, mark leaning over your body, a hungriness in his deep brown orbs. you had forgotten how fast he was, his powers completely slipping your mind. that was just it, you never cared. you always stuck with him, even after he had told you about his father’s secret roots all those years ago after he had just found out. he couldn’t wait to tell you, he always knew that you’d still see him the same, believe his words even if he lied-

“y/n, please- just let me talk, please just hear me out..!” he sounded different, shaky, almost scared to speak to you as if you were the one with superpowers holding him down. you weren’t scared, of course you weren’t. you looked into his eyes, concern washing over you as you watched your best friend open and close his mouth again, trying to find his words, “i.. i don’t- look, i…” more silence followed, tears brimmed in the corners of mark’s eyes and landed on your face, his gaze refusing to meet yours once again. you wanted to wipe his eyes, get to the bottom of why he was so upset… oh. oh. that was it, huh?

“mark-“ you interrupted, propping yourself up on your elbows to get closer to his face, closer so you could wipe his eyes-

mark panicked, he wasn’t ready for your rejection. wasn’t ready to hear you tell him that you had a boyfriend or that you couldn’t, didn’t want to hear you tell him that he was just like a brother to you, you couldn’t like him back because you were only best friends. he leaned forward, hands on your cheeks, lips crashing against your own. “mmf-!” you tried to move, his grip only tightening the more you tried to pull away, your hands on his wrists tightly. so this was how it was going to have to go, right? he’d dreamed of this for so long, it was so perfect. you were perfect.

“mark-!” you finally yelled, pushing him away by his shoulders. he could feel a dark pit starting to form inside of his stomach, regret washing over him, wishing that the pit would open up enough to swallow him too… “let me just breathe for a second..!” you huffed, locking eyes with him. your eyes never left his, mark’s eyes would try to flicker away from yours.

to him, it was a miracle. to you, it was a confession. it was years and years of bottled up feelings drowning you both all at once, it was confirmation.

you didn’t hesitate, hands snaking into his hair and pulling him back into a sweet kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist as he gasped shakily, a sweet nervousness behind his reciprocation. fireworks shot off in his brain, opening his mouth slowly only to be met with the intrusion of your tongue first, licking up against his as you held him tighter, pulling him closer, devouring him whole. god, you were going to kill him. are you going to kill him? give him a heart attack right here, right now? he thought so, hands aimlessly wondering under your shirt with his hips bucking into you with a groan rumbling from his throat, you whining back when his thumbs brushed against your nipples, your hips rocking against his. “w-wan’ you so b-bad-“ he spoke in between kisses, desperately trying to shove his tongue back down your throat straight after. you moved your hands to the hem of your skirt, shuffling out of it and kicking it off the end of your foot and onto the floor. this was hot, hungry. your hands pulled at his sweater, attempting to pull it over his head. he paused, sad to leave your lips once more, to take off his sweater and discard it into a random corner. “y/n, wanna- can i.. please- just the t-tip, only wanna feel it..- please let me, i’ll be quick, p-promise-“ you shut him up with a deep kiss, arms wrapped around his neck, “..i want all of it, mark. i can take you.” and mark almost cums in his jeans right there, nodding lazily and sliding his hand between your bodies to fiddle with the button and fly of his jeans, mentally congratulating himself for not just messily tugging them past his hips. he wasn’t alone with your panties jerking off next to you in your bed while you slept anymore- no- he had time. he could take it slow.

you couldn’t help but moan when you caught sight of his cock, heavy and thick and leaking between his legs, aching for you. who would’ve guessed? your best friend was packing. mark rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his waist, hands pressed on chest. to him, all you had ever done was look down on him, even if you had never intended so. for once, you really were looking down on him, but he was in control. he wanted to be in control, he should have been in control. and with that, the position shifted once more.

mark’s thumbs separated your gooey folds after pulling your panties to the side, he recognised that pair, he had planned on taking them one night. a pair of red lace panties, simple but permanent in his brain. he knew your cunt all too well, the nights where you would need help to stumble back to your dorm drunk when he would tower over your clothed body, flipping up your dress and lick your cunt until he busted against your bedsheets, he could always dismiss it as a yoghurt stain or something if you had ever asked.

mark grabbed you by the thighs, pulling you closer so your cunt was in perfect line of his fat dick, swiping the head up your slit and shivering when you moaned quietly because of the contact to your clit. this was so surreal, he was living in a dream and he never wanted to wake up. you both hissed when he caught his tip on your hole, eyes meeting once more before he let himself go, hands gripping your hips as he pressed into his your warm, wet pussy. you were going to take all of him. “fuuck..! mnh-“ you almost screamed, trying to adjust to his length. mark didn’t care. neither did you. his cock bullied its way into your tight walls, mark whispered small apologies into your ear as you whined at him, slowly gyrating your hips to try and almost run from the stretch, to give yourself a minute to adjust again, “don’t do that- you don’t have to do anything-“ he started, his warm breath fanning over your neck which caused goosebumps on your skin, “you don’t have to do anything other than lay here.. stay still n’ take my cock.” his words made you tremble, you tried to protest, his mouth blocking your words with a kiss, his dick pressing right up against your cervix with a harsh thrust of his hips, gummy gooey walls clenching down on him, a low “ohhh, ohh f-fu..ck-!” rumbling against your lips.

one thrust and he was immediately pussydrunk, your mouth hanging open and tongue poking out when he drew his hips back, slamming them back into you with uneven, inexperienced movements. he fucked like a rabid dog, his nails digging into your skin as he babbled above you,

“d-do you feel full? can’t push any deeper..” followed by a pressure on your stomach, his hand pressing down so he could feel himself thrusting through your body,

“ghnn..- y/n you feel so much b-better than my fleshlight-!” did he even know what he was saying? your walls tightened around him, the wind being knocked out of your lungs again when he pressed harder, lips working against yours, his vision blanking and ears ringing when you didn’t stop tightening and loosening on him, mushy cunt trying to milk him dry.

you couldn’t do anything but moan breathlessly, pushing the hair falling into his face back, his jaw clenched and forehead sweaty, pressing his head against yours. this was it, this was everything his life had been building up to until now. he thought that maybe he had subconsciously made you fall for him, all of the times he had touched you secretly conditioning your brain. he doubted it, but the idea of him and him only reworking your mind to love him made him keen. “yeah, tha’s right.. take it, c’monnn..” he babbled, his eyelashes wet with tears, not knowing or caring whether they were happy tears or the result of his pleasure. you were right on the edge, your moans getting louder and shorter, scrambling to let mark, your best friend, know that you were going to spray all over his pelvis. you’d squirted before but this felt.. different. warmer, hotter. “c-c-!..” you struggled, eyes crossing and back bowing off of the bed, “fffuck-! ghfuckk yeah..- y-you’re cummin-“ he held your hand, hips stuttering when he felt your tight pussy starting to flutter, the tight coil in your stomach finally snapping;

warmth flooded your insides, legs twitching when you gushed all over yourself and mark. if you weren’t planning on changing your sheets after this, you definitely had to now. white ropes were out of mark’s cockhead riiiight against your cervix, breeding your cunt as if he had no control over himself, which he didn’t. you both panted, trying to balance your breathing. you felt his hips pull back, cock pulling out and opening the floodgates for thick globs of cum to pour out of you, your best friend rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his forearm, mouth open as he breathed. he was in a daze, completely out of it, both of your liquids stuck to mark’s flaccid dick.

“did you get it out of your system yet?” your voice always bought him back. it was always you, it had always been you. “i… really want to be with you. i wanted- i want you, y/n.” mark spoke sternly, finally being able to complete his sentence from earlier. “i think i could gather that.” you retorted with a laugh. your laugh, his favourite.

you locked eyes, dark murky brown pools staring directly into yours. his pinkie finger hooked around yours, laughter bubbling from both of you. the fairy lights shined in his peripheral vision. the movie’s credits rolled on the screen, the whole movie falling on deaf, horny ears.

it was quiet, the only sounds being of yours and mark’s breathing. this was nice, blissful. peaceful.

“i love you, mark grayson.”

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: annnd we've made it to velaris ! yippee !! now it's time for all the introductions >:D i hope you enjoy pls let me know what you think angels <3 ok mwah bye

word count: 3.5k

synopsis: You wake up somewhere entirely new, a long, long way from your home.

CHAPTER EIGHT :: STRANGERS (AGAIN)

The air all around you is sickly sweet.

Maybe... sweet is the wrong word. The air is clean; perfumed with an allure of scents you've never smelt before, heady and swirling, sweet and sterile all in one.

But more importantly, it is utterly foreign.

You're in unknown territory. Age old instinct has you shifting the moment you wake, surging up in a rush before your memory can catch up and remind you why that's an terribly bad idea.

The sheets rustle as you push yourself up into a sitting position, a heavy dose of panic already poisoning your system. It doesn't take long for the pain to follow.

You falter in your movement as an aching agony ricochets through your body, forcing out a wince. Your eyes screw up in pain. Your entire body feels like a bruise, punishing you with every movement.

You allow yourself only a moment of pause before you force them back open to take on the new threat, every sense filtering in unknown information as they sluggishly come to life. You have to blink rapidly to clear your vision, light coming in from all angles.

Why does it feel as though you've been asleep for years?

Where are you?

A room. You're not outside which is where you memory places you last. The extent of the memory drifts back as you search the room, your eyes climbing the walls, ravenous for details. They're made of some kind of warm coloured stone that covers the whole ceiling, you realise, as you follow the line of it up.

You screw your eyes up again and blink hard when you open them again. Every sense keeps pinging for your attention, a thousand things unfamiliar. The bed beneath is too soft, the sound of the wind outside isn't a whistle, the clothes on your back...

You startle, stumbling off the bed you've awoken on as you peer down at yourself, eyes moving about wildly. You're wearing... something completely new.

Frowning down at your arm, you raise one of your hands and pinch at the new fabric that covers the expanse of your arms. It's soft. So soft.

You tentatively smooth your hands down the tunic you're clothed in, all the way down to your pants. Each thing is finely made, with details far smaller that you would ever consider, and soft. Warm but sturdy.

What the fuck? Your chest starts to heave as panic truly sets in, your breath just out of reach before you can catch it. You gasp, grasping at your chest tightly, the new clothes scrunching up beneath your fingers. Memories begin to trickle back in as your mind scours for any information about how you ended up here.

You had been... cold. It was raining.

And your wings had been—your wings—your brain trips over the thoughts as every detail bleeds back in, sudden and frightening.

Stakes driven through the flesh of them, your wings pulled taut, stretched out for lashings and prepped for removal. Your terror climbs, its cloying grip tightening around your sternum like a fist.

Eyes screwed closed, you pray to every deity you can imagine, begging the Mother for this one thing.

You twitch the familiar muscle and feel the weight of your wings as they respond. There's no describing the relief that bursts within you, overwhelming your panic in an instant, your knees nearly buckling beneath you. They're still moving, still stretching out as you command them, still yours.

You stand there and peer over your shoulder, stretching your wings out as far as you can—cringing when they stop before full extension, buckling and bunching up at the violent spike of pain that ripples through them. It echoes through your body, making you hunch forward and grit your teeth. Your left eardrum wails extra loud.

What had happened? What had changed?

You could recall the finality of being down on your knees in the pouring rain, your hands are bound as your fate. Endless agony. The secret you couldn't keep, despite all you had tried.

You had been resigned to it—to dying there amongst in the dirt from where you had come from.

So, what changed?

Behind you, there's an abrupt noise from behind a door in the room, a rustling that makes your head snap around to face it.

Someone’s coming.

You stumble back a couple steps, dread mounting in your chest and your panic returns in full-force. You don't know where you are, you don't know how you got here, you don't know who is coming through that door.

You know that you have a lot more foes than you do friends.

Eyes darting around the room frantically, you spot a balcony down a small hallway and don't waste a single second.

As you begin to stride, you realise faintly that you're without shoes, feet bare on the cool marble floor. It turns to carpet beneath you as your fast strides transforms to a run, hearing the door open somewhere behind you.

It feels like a trap. Not the nice clothes or the fancy room would be enough to fool you. You're caught in a sickly sweet trap of honey and the net is being reined in, the ropes closing up on every side of you. It feels like you're being chased.

Heart in your throat and pulse rabbiting wildly, you burst through the doors of the balcony, daring a glance behind you without thought—

—and you nearly plunge off the edge of a mountain.

The gasp that escapes your throat is entirely involuntary, your fingers gripping the edge of the stone railing the adorns the balcony.

Your balance tips momentarily, the momentum of your dash nearly pulling you over. Terror freezes you. You're fairly certain with the state of your wings, it would be a short flight and an almost guaranteed casualty.

But a wind blows gently against your face, as though helping push you back to safety.

When you're sure you're not going to topple over the edge, some of your crippling panic eases. Your breaths, short and fast, begin to slow.

Your eyes travel up from the daunting height of the mountain side and widen, all the air in your lungs stolen in pure surprise.

Because before you, stretching out across the land that meets the sea, is something you've never seen before.

It's... a city.

A city that sits amongst the rolling, steep hills of the terrain and curls around a meandering river that leads out to the ocean. Tall, jagged mountains surround it from all sides, their hills steep up the top until they give way to gentler slopes, eventually becoming paved roads and streets for magnificent buildings.

The structures gleam, even from afar, made with precision and beauty in mind. Some are white marble or warm sandstone, others the same red stone of the mountains beside the one you're standing on. Small, quaint houses with green copper roofs, their white chimneys smoking softly.

Your breath stutters out in an exhale and you don't dare blink.

A city—a sprawling, wondrous city that was bursting with people, with colour, with life. So utterly unlike the chilled gray-scale of the Illyrian Mountains.

In fact, you wonder briefly if this was even the Night Court at all. This— this incredible sight felt like something you'd imagined of Summer or Spring, imbued with warmth, a place where things could grow and thrive.

The Night Court was... foul. It was the biting frigid cold of the wintry mountains or the shudder-inducing darkness of the court that lay beneath the mountain. This... where is this?

As though you've spoken your thoughts aloud, a voice answers from behind you.

"Velaris."

You start, whipping around fast enough to reawaken all your wounds, forcing you to stifle a pained noise that leaps up your throat. Your heart thunders as your eyes lay upon an unfamiliar figure, stepping out from the empty hallway—a form cut from the very night itself.

Your hands grip the stone railing behind you and you're unsure whether it's to keep your knees from buckling in fear or from bolting off the edge, into uncertain skies.

He's unfamiliar to you, yes, but you have a feeling you know exactly who he is.

"You asked where this—" The male waves a casual hand to the city beyond the balcony before pocketing it, either unaware of your panic or uncaring. "—is. You're in Velaris."

He surveys you, his violet eyes glancing down at the strained way you clutch at the railing.

"I know you must have a thousand questions. We haven't been introduced. My name is Rhysand and I am—"

"I know who you are." You interrupt. There's a lilt of fear in your voice but you couldn't keep it out even if you tried. He's the fucking Highlord of the Night Court.

Which means—Azriel.

His name slams into you like a shooting star, glowing hotly and dripping through your ribcage with a fire warmer than you've ever known.

Azriel must be— he was the one- he's the reason you're still alive. It feels like you relive the relief of his appearance during the storm all over again, remembering that he came back for you.

You have no idea the cacophony of emotion you're giving off, shouting all your unguarded thoughts across the balcony.

Rhysand's cool expression doesn't falter at your disruption. He looks at ease, both hands in his pockets, like he's merely having a conversation with a friend.

"Then it's important for you to know," He continues. "that I mean you no harm."

Lying, lying, liar, LIAR—the thought festers from within you instinctively, only growing in its urgency. You and everyone else where you come from are well aware of the origins of your Highlord.

And while he's your ruler, he's first and foremost, an Illyrian male.

"Only half," Rhysand corrects.

You startle, sickly surprise at the fact he seems to be able to read your very thoughts.

Then he confirms it, by saying, "And I can."

"You can read my thoughts?" You echo, voice sounding so much meeker than you intend. You sound like a child—and you feel like one, feel like the same eight-year-old staring down at the scorched brown earth in Exordor. Old blood. The same dirt you had been forced to kneel upon that now makes you shudder at the fresh memory.

Rhysand's expression falters momentarily at your train of thought, a flash of hurt on his handsome face.

His eyebrows draw together, forming a sympathetic, troubled look. "I can teach you how to shield them, if you so wish."

You don't make a noise. You don't even dare to take a breath, your fingers still crushed around the railing.

Within you, some part of you knows what he's offering. What the very nature of his words implies. He voices it anyway.

"You're no prisoner here. You're free to—”

"Where's Azriel?" The question falls from your lips before you can even think to stop it. Fear hammers through your chest—Fae that make a habit of interrupting Highlord's often find their lives cut short.

But Rhysand gives no impression that he minds. All he does is step to the side, revealing the empty hallway out to the balcony.

Except it's not empty anymore.

There, standing back to hide in the shadows as he did best, is your Shadowsinger.

Reserved and holding back, clearly waiting for you to remember him, to make your call before he made himself known. Making sure you wanted to see him at all.

Azriel, all 6ft something of shadow and muscle, with his wings tucked politely behind him, takes one step out on to the balcony and towards you.

His hands stay at his sides and his hazel eyes watch you with a familiar intensity. Something deep within you unfurls at the sight of him.

It feels like the collision of a thousand stars rain down on you, their jagged, burning fragments pelting into your body.

It's as though the world had been falling out from underneath and then, seeing him before you—when Cauldron knows how long ago you had been resolutely convinced you were never ever going to see him again— suddenly your feet were grounded and the world was still.

You breathe out his name. Azriel sways forward, almost imperceptibly, as though the sound of his name on your lips was a siren call he was helpless to fight.

You don't know that you say it sweeter than he's ever heard it in all his centuries.

Like following an invisible tug, you don't even realise when you start moving, only that you're rushing towards him with an urgency you can't begin to comprehend. It's like he's calling to you and you can't bear to be this close to him and not press in closer.

His beautiful face, usually guarded, reveals a glimpse into his storm of emotions. Concern, care, and something that looks suspiciously like... longing.

Your brain catches up and your feet falter, bringing you to a stand still before him, chest heaving.

Reason starts to catch up to you, asking meanly about what exactly you meant to do, running up to him—you weren't raised with physical touch beyond violence. You and Azriel had barely touched beyond sparring and those quiet nights in your shelter, skin brushing as you passed something to the other.

In the end, it's not you that moves, it's Azriel.

He closes the distance between you with one single step and his strong arms sweep around your middle, pulling you into the tightest hug. Night-chilled mist and cedar swirl your senses.

Helpless to do anything else, with no desire to do anything but this, you melt.

Your weight slumps into Azriel and he takes it without question, your arms curling around his neck to hold him back just as tightly. The light around you shifts, his shadows frenzied as they kiss along your neck and arms, all checking for hurt they can ease. Your heart is torn between soaring and stopping altogether.

The world fades away as his head ducks down, pressing his face the crook of your neck. It's more touch than you've ever known. More safety, more kindness than you've ever dreamed of. You and Azriel seem to exist only in a cocoon of shadow and warmth, in each others arms.

"You're alright," Azriel murmurs, his breath against your neck. It sounds more like he's reassuring himself than telling you. He sounds devastatingly sincere when he says, "I'm so fucking glad you're alright."

"Thanks to you," You whisper back, not wanting to break the silence. "You—"

The words get caught in your throat and you know you need to see his face when you say this. Pulling back from the embrace, you clear your throat as Azriel straightens up. You miss the heat of his body almost instantly.

"I-I thought I was never going to see you again."

It looks as though your words pain Azriel, a flash of pain and shame crossing his expression. His voice, low and gravelly, holds a guilty tone you've never heard him use before.

"I never should have left."

You blink. That wasn't what you had expected him to say in the least. It was you who had lied, who had deceived him from the very beginning. He was— he had— this was what you got for letting anyone get close to you, you understood that.

You shake your head, pointedly ignoring how it makes your injuries throb. "I know why you did, Azriel. I can't imagine—"

Azriel's scarred hands clench into fists at his sides, anguish colouring his face.

"No." He shakes his head, his jaw clenched tightly. "You did nothing wrong. Nothing."

"Then why did you leave?" Your questions comes out with an edge this time, a biting fury as your emotions process what he's saying.

He says you did nothing wrong. He says he shouldn't have left you behind. It's a ugly mixture of hurt and anger that paints your insides as realisations churn to the surface.

Azriel steals a glance to the side, serving as a quick reminder that there was, indeed, someone else still out on the balcony with you. You glimpse at the Highlord as your anger begins to bubble but you can't bring yourself to care.

You had... trusted him— you had let him in, let him get closer to you than anyone ever had, and he had left. He left, he left, he left. He did exactly as you had feared and he was wrong for it.

The greatest secret of your life, exposed like a raw nerve, and he hadn't said a word as he deserted you.

Your heart warbles at the betrayal and you can't help but step back, putting distance between the two of you. It's such a far cry from the nearness of a moment ago.

And even though you know he wasn't responsible for the events that followed, in the haze of your upset, it's awfully easy to add it to his betrayal. As if in response, your wings flinch and shudder as a wave of agony passes through them. You wince, gritting your teeth and turning your gaze to the ground.

"I can leave to give you both some privacy," Rhysand cuts into the conversation, evidently answering Azriel's pointed glance in his direction. "However, I don't think it will be overtly helpful. She's shouting every thought so loudly, I think I'll be able to hear it from the other side of the house."

She. It's been so many years since anyone has used that in reference to you that it nearly winds you, your entire body giving a visible flinch.

It feels foreign. You can't quite tell how you feel about it; whether it's some lost part of yourself to reclaim or whether it's something you've outgrown altogether.

You don't get time to consider it further as, bustling as she walks, a fourth Fae steps out onto the balcony. She's an older female in appearance but certainly not in her sprightliness. Her eyes land on you and they lighten up, as though you're the one she's been searching for.

"You are supposed to be resting." She tsks, without much further explanation. Your heart sinks, already feeling as though you're in trouble. Rhysand, reading your abrupt switch from anger, jumps in to explain.

"Madja, here-" He gestures to the female with a polite smile- "is our resident healer. She's been taking care of you over these last couple days, helping to heal your wings."

A severe reminder of the sorry state that had been in not too long ago. Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes glaze over as they take in the dozens of scattered markings that litter your wings. Irreversible. Your glorious love, changed forever.

There's patches over the ends that you hadn't noticed before, covering where you know the stakes had been. You suddenly feel an immense rush of gratitude towards the stranger before you.

"Thank you," You say, your throat thick. You want to say it again, want to repeat it over and over til your lungs bleed because just once doesn't seem enough.

But Madja nods in a grave way, as though she knows your internal turmoil.

"You weren't supposed to be up and moving quite so soon," She says, this time with less disapproval in her voice.

She directs a more withering look towards Rhysand and Azriel, enough to surprise you. Perhaps, healers held a higher rank within the city than they did in the mountains? The whole scene looks like a mother scolding her naughty children, especially with how both males shrink beneath her glare.

"Anyhow, come now," She turns back to you and gives a gentle wave of her weathered hand, ushering you back inside. "You'll need at least a days rest before you should be back on your feet."

You amble in her direction, too fearful to glance back at the Highlord and too conflicted to turn back to Azriel. You had broken his trust with your deceit but... he had broken your trust back.

He had abandoned you when you needed him most. But he had also turned up during your darkest hour and saved your life.

You weren't sure what you wanted to do more; hug him once more or throw a shoe at his head. Probably both would make you feel better.

From behind you, you swear you hear a faint chuckle of amusement.

—

When it's just the two of them on the balcony, Rhys turns to Azriel, ignoring his brother's unsubtle sullen demeanor.

"So," He grins. "Mates, then?"

Azriel casts a glance across the balcony, still rigid and unmoving from his spot. His shadows perk up at the word but Azriel gives no reaction beyond a twitch in his jaw muscle. Debating whether to respond at all.

Finally, he mutters, "How could you tell?"

Rhys tilts his head back, chuckling quietly, his mind cast back to an old, fond memory. His violet eyes slice back to his Azriel and he gives a little shrug. "A hunch, really. I think I might have enough to start a theory actually."

He wanders over and nudges Azriel with his shoulder, breaking him from his frozen spot and nodding for them to both head indoors. Rather reluctantly, the Shadowsinger falls into step. Side by side, Rhys gives him only a moment of quiet to stew in before he pipes up once more.

"Say— how much do you remember Cassian and Nesta's first meeting? Any flying projectiles?"

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[youremyheaven]

The Strictness of Saturn: Giga Chads, Scammers & Spiritual Gurus

Lately, I have been contemplating the energies of Saturn and how it manifests in men and it brought me to the realization that Saturnian men are the type of men that other men idolize and look up to. There are always certain male celebrities that other men fawn over but women dgaf about and they usually tend to be Saturnian as well. Why do men worship Saturnian men? For starters, the world we live is a deeply Saturnian one, with law and order, systems and regulations and structure. The general narrative is that in order to be successful in life, you have to "hustle and grind" and work hard and that you'll be rewarded for it. This is essentially the theme of Saturn. Saturn is also a masculine planet and a malefic. We live in a capitalist society where the working culture is designed with men in mind. Be it the 9 to 5 or the culture of conquest and domination (in business, politics, colonization etc) are all aggressively yang. You do all of it to make more profit to buy/accumulate more stuff, this is a deeply patriarchal worldview because yang energy is one that is fixated on "accumulation". Therefore to thrive in this world, its important to have a strong Saturn and the kind of people who thrive in this set up, aka men, look up to and admire other men who exemplify such Saturnian qualities.

I'm going to start with the most notorious example of this Saturn worship by men

Andrew Tate, Anuradha Sun & Moon

Tate's brand of hyper-toxic masculinity and his "hustler university" is so wildly misogynistic it's insane. Yet it appeals to many men.

In one video, Tate describes how he would deal with a woman who accused him of cheating: “It’s bang out the machete, boom in her face and grip her by the neck. Shut up bitch.” He’s argued that women are a man’s property, shouldn’t drive, and shouldn’t leave the home if they’re in a relationship. He claims only to date 18 and 19 year olds as it’s easier to “imprint” on them, and in a now deleted YouTube video, Tate claimed that “about 40 per cent” of the reason he moved to Romania is that he believed police in Eastern Europe would be less likely to pursue rape allegations.

Tate seems to represent the lifestyle that most men dream of (wealthy) and he presents himself as ultra masculine/alpha like which is every man's dream but the thing is extreme behaviour of any sort comes across like that person is overcompensating for something.

Machoism and machismo are what men use to signal to other men that they're not to be messed with. Its a very primitive display of behaviour that probably goes back to the cave men era where men had to rely on physical strength and brute force to survive. But no man who is actually secure in himself will feel the need to aggressively display his "masculinity" by spewing absolutely vile hateful nonsense against women or other people. Toxic masculinity is rooted in narcissism and self centeredness; these men want to be the best among men (more rich, more powerful, get more girls etc). Its a gross by product of male insecurity because truth be told men grossly overestimate the standards women have for their romantic partners.

they seem to have a scarcity mindset about how no women would want to be with a deadbeat ugly loser (i mean, duh) but believing that every single woman would only date 6’4” dudes with 12 abs and rolexes isn't true either. majority of heterosexual relationships feature a gorgeous girl with a guy who looks like a gnome. many women date absolutely hideous men who are broke just because they have sweet personalities and are nice to be around.

but male insecurity leads to incel behaviour because they believe that the reason women dont go for them is because they're ugly or broke when usually the reason women dont go for them is because theyre an asshole. by blaming women for not sleeping with them or dating them, they get to conveniently shift attention from the fact that they have absolutely nothing to offer and also, women dont owe charity sex to lame, rude, broke, ugly men?

men underestimate just how much personality matters. and by pretending that being the "alpha" will get them women, they're feeding their own masculine egos because women literally just want a guy who is sweet, texts them back regularly, listens to them and isn't a complete asshole. you never hear a woman talk about being into "alphas". its literally just a male fantasy that is completely severed from what real people are like or what real people want. its like how men believe the "Cool Girl" exists, they write female characters to be quirky, nerdy but above all hot and constantly feeding their male ego, they also write male characters to be macho, alpha, dominating other men and women because they want to be like these men.

anyways lol went off on a tangent (me with every post)

Saturn is considered a malefic not because of how it represents "karma" or "discipline" its because Saturn overdoes the strictness, commitment and discipline and "hard work" associated with it. You may work hard but you can't always tell if you're working hard enough or why your hard work isn't translating to results/rewards. That is the energy of Saturn. You overdo things and go beyond the extra mile. This may sound like a good thing because we live in a world that values these traits but it can manifest in many unpleasant ways bc pushing yourself that hard means risking burnout out and it's actually unhealthy to swing into such extremes? You can live a good life without living like a monk or a soldier which is what a lot of hustle/self-improvement coaches advocate for. This is a negative manifestation of Saturn; believing that deprivation, scarcity and harshness are the only way to get things done or that "tough love" is the answer.

Hunter Moore has a Saturn stellium (Mercury & Venus in UBP and Saturn in Anuradha)

He was a predecessor to Andrew Tate who posted intimate photos (some acquired through hacking, and many nonconsensually submitted) of women with their Facebook details on IsAnyoneUp.com (he's a convicted criminal)

He's an early example of a toxic masculine internet influencer who spewed misogyny and was worshiped by many dudebros.

Solar men may be Chads who just want to hang out with other men but they are NOT like these Saturnians. If we're going to think of Sun as the most masculine or "yang" planet, it also means they're masculine to the point of being almost feminine, if that makes sense? The qualities of preferring other male company, valuing male friendships and wishing to keep women at an arm's length (under the guise of "independence" or "non-attachment") are similar to behaviours shown by women described as a "girls girl". Solar people of either gender have a very welcoming, positive energy but they're often virtually sexless. (there are exceptions to everything ofc) but these are not people known for being highly sexually desirable. They're likable and have qualities/traits that make them "wanted" but Solar energy is too self-centered to be sexually appealing. Sun is the centre of our solar system, it's used to being the source of light and does not have the same need to achieve things the way Saturnians do for whom accomplishment has its origins in insecurity and the desire to overcompensate for what they lack. Solar ambition is rooted in their belief that they're the best and deserve to be at the top of the world and refusal to settle for anything less. Those are two very different approaches.

Tom Hardy, Uttaraphalguni Sun, Chitra Moon once said:

“A lot of people say I seem masculine, but I don’t feel it,” Hardy confessed. “I feel intrinsically feminine. I’d love to be one of the boys but I always felt a bit on the outside. Maybe my masculine qualities come from overcompensating because I’m not one of the boys.”

Tbh this could be a generalization but I feel like I have seldom seen Solar men present themselves as mega alpha hypermasculine figures. They are often perceived that way but they're not personally like that. They're more boyish, more youthful than aggressively "manly". They actually represent a more indulgent "frat boy" type of masculinity than the alpha male ideal presented by many Saturn men.

I'll cite some examples of famous men who are popular among men and not so much among women

Jason Momoa- Pushya Stellium (Sun, Mercury & Venus)

Men love to talk about him like he's a God or something because he represents the kind of masculinity that other men want to embody. 6'5 bulky beefcake build and has this uber-masculine personality.

Like all Saturnian men, he's also known for making crass, tasteless remarks like the time he said at ComicCon:

“But as far as sci-fi and fantasy, I love that genre because there are so many things you can do, like rip someone’s tongue out of their throat and get away with it and rape beautiful women"

In 2011 during an interview he said:

"Yeah, I’m raping Emilia [Clarke]” he said. “I love her, but I’m hurting her and she’s crying. We could have made it longer, but you get the idea. I’m not a rapist. I prefer my women to enjoy sex.”

All of these statements reek of the smug asshole Saturn alpha-chad vibes like he really thought he did something by saying it. You just know that he was saying it for other men to laugh to🤢🤮🤮

Saturnian men lack social grace and manners and are literal troglodytes

Sam Levinson- Pushya Moon

everything he has ever made is SO male gaze-y, be it Euphoria or The Idol. he literally makes torture porn and all his female characters are treated like shit with absolute shitheads written as the male protagonist

The Idol portrays an absolutely vile toxic relationship where the woman is literally treated like scum. He sidelined his female collaborator on The Idol and reworked the show to suit his shitty male gaze. The show Euphoria was also stolen from photographer Petra Collins' aesthetic. Here's what she said:

he's also just known for being an asshole in general. several female cast members on euphoria asked Sam if they could cut down on the nudity (first of all, i think making a highschool drama, casting grown adults and getting away with depicting gratuitous sex scenes is fucked up on its own)

Sydney Sweeney had said:

“There are moments where Cassie was supposed to be shirtless and I would tell Sam, ‘I don't really think that's necessary here,’” she told the Independent. “He was like, ‘OK, we don't need it.’”

Jason Statham- Pushya Sun, UBP Moon

Jason is another example of a man who is idolized by men. He's known for playing menacing tough guys in action movies who are sometimes complete psychopaths and has the brooding toxic violent masculinity that men get off to.

Tom Brady, UBP Moon

He is another male celebrity whom men fawn over.

Chris Evans, Anuradha Rising

Chris is arguably more popular among men than he is among women. He's too plain and boring to appeal to the female gaze truth be told.

DJ Khaled, Anuradha Sun conjunct Mercury (and Saturn in Pushya)

DJ Khaled is in general known for being an obnoxious, egotistical, pompous asshole further confirming the rumours about how self-obsessed, vain, downright delusional and mannerless Saturnian men are.

In 2014, DJ Khaled revealed in an interview that he never performs oral sex on women. The full quote goes like this:

"It's certain things I just don't do. I believe a woman should praise the man, the King." "If you holding it down for your woman, I feel like the woman should praise and the man should praise the Queen," he continued. "But, you know, my way of praising is called, 'How was dinner? You like the house you living in? You like all them clothes you getting? I'm taking care of your family, I'm taking care of my family"

When host Angela Yee asked Khaled if he "goes down" on his longtime girlfriend, he replied, "Nah, never. Nah, I can't do that. Hell nah...I can't do that. I don't do that."

Yee asked Khaled if he would be okay with his girlfriend not giving him oral sex, to which he said, "Nah, it's not okay. You gotta understand I'm the Don, I'm the King."

She told Khaled she doesn't think the double standard is fair. Khaled said, "It's different rules for men. You gotta understand, we the King. There are some things that you guys might not wanna do or wanna do. It gotta get done. I just can't do what you want me to do. I just can't," he added.

This literally sums up how Saturnian men see themselves versus how they see women.

Logan Paul, UBP Sun & Mercury

In 2017 Paul was accused of sexist behaviour with the release of his song "No Handlebars." The track, which samples 2008's "Handlebars" by Flobots, changes the original song's lyrics from "I can ride my bike with no handlebars," to "I can ride your girl with no handlebars." The video shows Paul mounting three women who have positioned themselves to act as a bicycle. This wasn't the first time Paul was accused of sexist behavior, famously releasing a now-deleted Vine with controversial Vine star Sam Pepper in which the pair lassoed women as a way of courting them.

In 2018, in one of the first videos back from his infamous post-Suicide Forest hiatus, Paul can be seen lifting a live koi fish out of water and moving it like a toy boat, as well as tasing dead rats. 

In January 2023, fans were outraged when Paul's former pet pig, Pearl, was found abandoned and injured in a field by the nonprofit The Gentle Barn. In the past, he had put his Pomeranian in seemingly stressful situations for YouTube videos, like introducing him to an actual tiger and putting him in a bucket to zipline him off the roof.

In fact, animal abuse/cruelty seems to be a recurring theme with many Saturnians, both men and women. I think so many Saturnians are notorious for abusing animals because their desire for domination and control manifests most through people who cannot fight back. Obviously being abusive to women and expressing desire to subjugate them is another extension of this Saturnian tendency but it is very telling how a Saturnian can and will dominate, control and abuse absolutely every living being they come across.

many years ago, Kim Kardashian, UBP Moon went viral for holding a cat like a toy and many people said it was abusive behaviour

Kristi Noem, Anuradha Sun, Ketu in Pushya

She recently came under fire for revealing in her memoir how she shot and killed her dog who was difficult to train along with her goat who she hated? Idk how callous you have to be to describe in detail (her exact words and excerpts from the book are available online, I dont feel like repeating it here) how you murdered your pets?? idk how insane you have to be to even publicly admit something like that??

Paris Hilton- Pushya Moon conjunct Rahu

Paris is notorious for how she prefers teacup sized dogs and for anybody who does not know, when animals are specially bred to be an unnaturally small size (bc people think small dogs are "cute") they really struggle with their health a lot bc their bodies are too small to hold all their organs and they struggle with respiratory issues along with being more susceptible to diseases and having weaker immunity. Breeding dogs is absolutely inhumane and cruel. imagine saying you want a cute tiny dog when being that small means that dog lives a much shorter life and a much more arduous one as well?

But Paris isn't just guilty of this but is notorious for neglecting her pets. Los Angeles Animal Services finally interfered after rumours that staff had found a dead puppy in one of Paris’ closets. This was one of Paris’ ways of handling dogs when she got annoyed: lock them away in a different area of the house and then forget about them.

After her documentary came about, many have also accused Paris of being a neglectful mother. Her own sister, Nicky Hilton once said that Paris was too selfish to be a mother and unfortunately 😬it sort of looks like its true? Paris basically left her newborn baby with his nannies and complained about having to "work a lot" when the truth is she's a multimillionaire who can afford to take time off to bond with her newborn?? she treats her babies like props to pose with. if you watch the show you'll know what I mean. her whole attitude and demeanour made it seem like she did not gaf about her kid. She also very callously said she was doing egg retrieval over and over because she wanted a girl and kept getting boys?? idk what happened to the other embryos but its a bit icky to admit that you kind of have a designer baby? On the show, her son was supposed to get circumcised and she says she doesn’t want to be there because it’s too painful for her. How painful is it going to be for your baby?!

On the same show, she also said casually that five of her dogs got ate by coyotes on different occasions? and she cloned two of her deceased dogs??

Shane Dawson, Pushya Sun, Mars in UBP

Shane is a sociopathic asshole in general but in 2015 on a podcast, he, in very graphic detail, explained how he inserted his penis into his cat and then ejaculated onto it as well. His exact words were, "One time I laid my cat down on her back...I moved her little chicken legs spread open or whatever," "I came all over the cat. It was like my first sexual experience...I was also like 19." After this was brought back up in March 2019, he then tweeted saying “I didn’t fuck my cat. I didn’t cum on my cat. I didn’t put my dick anywhere near my cat. I’ve never done anything weird with my cats.” 🤮🤢🤮🤢

Mitt Romney, Anuradha Moon, Jupiter & Ketu

He infamously tied his pet dog in a kennel to the roof of his car for a cross-country trip.

Ted Bundy, Anuradha Sun

Serial killers usually abuse animals as children and there have been studies that link animal cruelty to future psychopathic behaviour. Ted used to abuse the neighbourhood dogs. He shot one neighbour's dog because according to him, the dog was an "evil force" that compelled him to kill. Bundy used to watch as his own father tortured animals.

Angelina Jolie, Pushya Rising

I used to suspect her of being Punarvasu Rising but I came across a 90s interview where she admits to abusing her pets which makes me think she is indeed Pushya Rising lol

"I had a dog and I ended up beating him, and he got sick and... I've hurt so many—I am just not a good animal person... I had a rabbit that died, too... a cage fell on him..."That happened when she was six. But then I had a hamster... I took him in the shower. He died of pneumonia. I had a bunch of little lizards. My friend left them in the sun, and I came back and they were just... my snake, I tried to kill."

Another thing I've noticed with Saturnian men is how they usually scam their way to the top? Deceit, duplicity, being a con artist and a scammer are also common among Saturnian men (Andrew Tate included). They have vv right wing views, especially regarding women and they're also entirely dishonest?

Lance Armstrong, Jupiter in Anuradha in 1h

He was stripped of his tour de france titles after it was revealed that he used performance-enhancing drugs and cheated on his doping tests??

Emily Ratajkowski, UBP Moon & Pushya Stellium (Venus, Mars & Jupiter)

Her bikini wear brand Inamorata has come under fire for not shipping any of their orders?? last year lol. Her brand has also been criticized for selling poor quality bikinis that are tacky and garish

Jennifer Lopez, Pushya Sun, Mercury & Rising

Apart from the fact that J Lo does not sing her own songs and has essentially scammed her way to the top, her numerous business ventures over the years including her Sephora skincare line, Kohl's clothing line etc have all been absolutely horrible, even her perfumes are apparently terrible lol

Anna Delvey has Jupiter & Ketu in Pushya

She is an infamous con artist and fraudster who posed as a wealthy heiress to access upper-class New York social and art scenes from 2013 to 2017. 

Back to the theme of Saturnians being abusive, here are some more examples:

Colleen Ballinger, Anuradha Sun

She was accused of grooming her underage fans and being creepy to them and she responded to that with a ukulele song? Her ex-husband reacted to the weird apology saying "This behaviour was my reality anytime I spoke up & disagreed with her actions & rhetoric during 2009-2016. I was gaslit too. I was made to feel like I was always the problem. Any pain I felt was an inconvenience and was belittled. Every ounce of what you’re feeling, I understand."

As someone who used to watch them in the early 2010s (I feel super old) I know for a fact that Colleen was a major asshole to Josh (her ex husband) and always acted like, since she was more successful than him, she had the "upper hand". She's a toxic narcissist and I hated the way she treated all the people in her life like they're all her glorified assistants or something ugh

David Dobrik, Pushya Sun, Saturn in UBP

If you've watched any of his content, you do know that he uses people around him for "vlog content" and often does really crass, distasteful, offensive, weird, inappropriate shit to his friends for clout? he was rightfully accused of setting up the stage for one of his friends to sexually abuse a minor

Russell Brand, UBP Moon

He has been accused or rape, sexual assault and emotional abuse by 4 women

He's like the spiritual hippie avatar of a toxic alpha chad and he used to be heavily involved in the Ra Ma Yoga place that was essentially a cult

Haile Selassie, Anuradha Moon

This is a more extreme example of men (and women) worshipping a Saturn man, in this case quite literally. Haile Selassie was the emperor of Ethiopia. In the 1930s when he initially became emperor, Rastafarianism emerged in Jamaica and Rastafaris believed that Haile was the second coming of Christ and is perceived as a prophet.

Sri Sathya Sai Baba, Anuradha Stellium (Sun, Mercury, Venus & Saturn)

Sai Baba was a guru who was revered by his followers and literally thought of as God. however, he was embroiled in several scandals in his lifetime including child molestation. Its really hard to dig up info about Indian gurus because they started doing their stuff in the pre-internet era and because its really easy to get away with virtually any kind of abuse under the guise of religion and spirituality in India.

Another guru with major Saturnian energy was Anandamayi Ma who had UBP Rising.

There will be a part 2, where I'll explore more about Saturnian energies and how it manifests in women etc<3 But I hope this post was interesting <3

[lilybug-02]

The HK comic was very sweet and wholesome and I loved every second of reading it! :3

Also does Dewi give hornet back her thread? Im pretty sure she needs that for silksong when that eventually releases lol

Also to go off on an unrelated tangent/rant, people have been supposedly like up in arms about how "Silksong will never release!" and how "Its taking FORVEVER to come out!" But like.... First of all, its and indie studio. Secondly It was only announced in 2019, which, yeah, was 5 years ago, but with the way people were describing it I thought it was announced like way earlier. And hollow knight was released in 2017, but the way people talk about it makes me think its like a classic from early 2000's or something. Sure, its a good game, but why are people so stuck on the Silksong thing? Like at least you're pretty sure you're probably gonna get a full game when it releases. With other communities/fandoms you'd be lucky to get even an announcement. Like Deltarune for example. Not even Toby Fox was sure he was gonna be able to do it in the first place lol. And if you think 5 years is bad of a wait, imagine waiting for a new LITERALLY ANYTHING WHATSOEVER from Bethesda that isnt the 100th re-re-release gold ultra plus edition of fucking Skyrim again but now on the fucking smart watch or whatever. I'm 90% sure that most of Bethesda's existance as a company has been spent making something for Skyrim instead of working on anything new or original.

Sorry for the random rant btw

Anyways love your art, have a nice day, kay bye imma go die of awkwardness in the corner :)

First off thank you very very much. I am so glad to hear how much you like the Hollow Knight comic. And to answer your question, Hornet allowed Dewi to keep that thread. She gave it to him as a peace offering for helping the bugs get back home and to lead Dewi through the maze like cave. Don't worry, she has PLENTY of thread back in Hallownest.

And regarding the impatience of Silksong. I get it. I am the very lucky few to get into the game NOW. I haven't had to wait as long as the many other people waiting for Silksong to release, and in that regard I am quite spoiled. Yeah, Deltarune won't fully release in at least another 5 years, but I wouldn't want to say I'm morally better for my "patience". Waiting for a game or any kind of media SUCKS. The fandom keeps it alive, but even those can grow stagnant. As long as you aren't harassing the creators or fans of the project, you can be as angry or frustrated or sad as you want. I think it's normal and can help others feel less alone in their feelings as well.

Not to say your points of contention above aren't relevant!!! Patience and kindness are always important to keep in mind with artistic projects. Art is HARD and can be very taxing. I hope I'm not dampening your message. ❤️ Thanks for sharing

[plutonianeris]

pick a pile: how you secretly intimidate others ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓

this is a general reading & for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates and leave what doesn't. scroll through the images & choose based on your inner guidance and gut feeling. ⛓️

♱☾pile one☽

“don’t call me baby! im not your baby!”

you intimidate others with your individuality. There’s something about you that’s very weird or kind of quirky. not in the “oh im not like other gwurls 🤪” cringey way. but rather you’re kind of blunt even when you don’t mean to be other people might think that what you say is too harsh or direct. This seems to be some thing that might throw off men as well but at the same time it’s also make some desire you. That free spirit can be seen as something that other people want in their life but it’s not always with the best intentions. It’s kind of like they want you to fulfill something for them. Kind of like to conquer you in a way. But it seems like that literally never happens because instead, you’re literally a tower moment for other people in their lives.

Just by being you, you unconsciously force other people to reflect on certain things in their life. you guys people specifically to reflect on their insecurities, and also their childhood. You could find that people, especially women project onto you. they could look at you and mumble under their breath or too each other like “what the fuck is their problem” or talk about how you think you “know it all”

it seems like people are just really intimidated by your knowledge and what you have to share with other people. you might have some Aquarius placements. Whether what you share with others is topics about religion or spirituality or “taboo” subjects, other people could be thrown off by your words, while at the same time secretly want to hear more.

this pile, gave off a lot of scorpio and/or aries and/ or libra & taurus energy and 8th house/ pluto aspects energy. when I asked about qualities people associate with you I got “ regeneration, suspicion, passion, beautiful, art, experimentation, intelligent, creativity, wisdom.” 🕯️

🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️ tip jar 🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

♱☾pile two☽

“no, I’m killing boys.”

people are secretly intimidated by the way you can rise from the ashes and transform completely after going through super traumatic shit. The way you seem to be able to recover from stuff that can be straight out of someone’s nightmare and manage to come out on top is inspiring but also it makes other people feel insecure. pile two, other people seem to think that you somehow just “get lucky” when something really good happens to you. People might think that you didn’t have to work that hard for it. They could secretly send you evil eye and think oh I wish that would’ve happened to me instead..

shit I’m not gonna lie I feel in awe and a little shook reading these cards describing your energy. you are literally an alchemist. You transform everything you touch and you transform after every experience with a lot of grace and harmony. lmfaoo the quote from “what? like its hard” from legally blonde popped up. The thing is that it actually is hard but you’ve been doing it for so long. There’s no other way for you to really function. You manage to continuously strengthen your spirituality over and over again.

and there’s a certain element of privacy that you also keep when it comes to your home life and the space you live in and also in regards to what you’re even thinking. It kind of leaves people in constant speculation of who you are what you actually do or where you even live. but this privacy seems necessary to you, sacred to you actually. Your personality, ego, and the way you view yourself are in a constant state of fluctuation. But never in a way that ends up being super detrimental to you. even when you “mess up” you learn something and get better.

you are someone that is very strong and I don’t wanna say that like in a corny “omg ur saiuuir strong u went through so much :(“ pity way. I literally mean just a very unique kind of perseverance within your spirit where time after time you just can’t be knocked down. And other people wonder about that, but they’re not even close to being able to dissect it & that intimidates them.

You could be someone that has a lot of 12th house or fourth house placements, as well as Jupiter, Sagittarius, or Pluto prominent in the chart. when I asked about qualities/ words that people associate with you, I got “independent, knowledgeable, transformation, roots, subconscious, potential, hope” 🔐

🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️ tip jar 🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

♱☾pile three☽

“how do you feel about yourself now stupid motherfucker? you couldve had some pussy.”

people are secretly intimidated by the way you run shit. You have a very straightforward and innovative, and out of the box solution for many of the obstacles you face in life. Similar to pile 2 there is resentment in response to the way you succeed. But when it comes to you it’s more because of the way you do things. people might think “oh it’s not fair that they did it that way and won..” but in reality, you have a unique power being able to bounce back really fast from shit. you don’t mind being someone brand new every single day or changing your habits or routines, or the way you connect with people were your resources very quickly.

In fact, you’re constantly flowing in these spaces of rebirth and attatchment and security. and that intimidate people because they wonder well how is it possible that you’re changing your character and your appearance and your own self all the time and YOU dont care if people label it as a fake or weird. Like I’m not gonna lie this piles giving off someone who has such a range of random aesthetics that ppl r like seeing u as someone who dresses up or is wearing a costume when in reality you just feel transformed by your experiences so frequently.

its giving “im not the person who i was yesterday” so don’t try it today energy. it intimidates people that you’re not ashamed of changing your mind and being like “ well actually I used to like that and now I don’t like it anymore, so can you please respect the boundaries I set up now.”

you TRUST yourself. and not only does that intimidate people but it also makes them MAD. chiron aka trauma, wounds, healing, pain etc popped up, so it doesn’t mean that all your life you had this confidence or ability to listen to yourself and your intuition. If anything you suffered a lot and had a period of time (especially in childhood) were you were taught to not listen to yourself or your intuition. where you were told that if you showed leadership and willpower, and if you used your anger and embraces your anger, that bad things would happen.

But then, finally, you did and you realized that you get so much more from life when you show people how to treat you from the start. And other people want to be able to do that. And you securely inspire them to do that but it’s also a mixture of envy as well thats included in those feelings toward you. oh well. protect your peace! you could be someone that has aries, first house, 8th house and 2nd house placements. 888 also popped up if that has any significance to you. when I asked about qualities/ words that people associate with you, I got “secure, possessive, leader, warrior, loyal.”⚖️

🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️ tip jar 🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

© plutonianeris 🕷

[dduane]

An anonymized non-anon query

(A note: my ask box isn’t open to anons at the moment, because I started getting inappropriate messages that I didn’t care to see. Maybe I'll eventually go anon-open again. But the present situation isn’t going to stop me from answering asks where the person’s uneasy about having their username revealed. Like this one:)

[text:

Can't go on anon so this is a little mortifying to be Seen™ but;

Do you have any words for fandom girls who are no longer in their 20s and starting to construct people in their heads who shame them for "still being into this stuff"?]

First thing; funny how it's always fandom girls who come up against this, isn't it? If it was some 90-year-old fandom boy in question who'd been painting his face red and white and following Manchester United since he was nine, no one would turn a hair. In fact, everybody in that cohort of interest would be praising him for his commitment and loyalty. It's almost as if some people have bought into the idea that the rules are different for girls somehow! Something to do with the idea that where girls belong is home making everybody a sandwich. I wonder where that might have come from...

Anyway. What you're describing here is something a lot of us have run into: the pressure to (allow me briefly to stand the well-known trope on its head) Be Like All The Other Girls... and to be prepared (and indeed resigned) for that inevitably to happen IRL. This stuff starts sneaking into your head in a very innocuous way: by disguising itself as "being prepared" for what you're afraid might happen. And it's very hard to avoid having that concern slowly but surely turn into a dread of what's going to happen. (For there's a horrible seductiveness about self-fullfilling prophecy... even if you know you've built it yourself. Part of your mind, that frightened advanced-fight-or-flight part that's always trying to keep you safe by predicting all the possible futures, starts feeling satisfied with itself when it finally has the evidence to say, "Well, at least we were prepared for that!")

So it's best to be proactive about managing this, I think, before things start to get bothersome. Develop a quick switchblade-style defense that you can pull out of your brain's back pocket at short notice. And then, when you're used to using it on those rogue ideations, disarm the sneaky "attacker" more thoroughly by taking it apart, gradually, at the more straightforwardly analytical end.

Let's start with the switchblade: a good-old fashioned mantra. How about this:

"Nobody gets to gatekeep my joy."

This can be used as a silent affirmation any time you feel the need. Any time you start feeling that pressure—that annoying whisper from the conjectural voices in your head that want you to think about how maybe you are too old for this kind of thing—pull out the mantra and shiv them in the gut with it, three times. (Threes are always good for this. Think how many spells have to be done, or names spoken, in threes. The rhythm's an archetype all its own.)

What you'll notice, with repetition of this intervention over time, is that the incidence of this kind of thinking gradually gets rarer and rarer. It might take a while to go away completely... but you'll know what to do if it rears its head again.

But also: this response can when necessary be repeated right out loud in front of whatever sorry piece of breathing meat has the unutterable bald-faced gall to actually try to gatekeep you to your (digital or otherwise) face. Pull it out, set your features in an expression of amused calm (because what you do to your face makes differences in your brain), and hit 'em with it. And if they continue to try to argue the point with you, you get to just keep repeating your base-state mantra until they give up and go away.*

...Now, since good mantras normally run deeper than the mere words, it makes sense to inquire into an underlying issue:

Why do people do this to other people? (And I don't mean this as a rhetorical question with optional eyeroll: I mean it as a possible diagnostic.) There has to be a reason people pull this shit... as mandated by the favorite (different) mantra of psychiatric professionals everywhere: "All behavior is motivated."

One aspect of this to consider: the "you're too old to be into this stuff" response is usually a learned behavior. People for whom the perception of "insufficient" age or maturity is an issue have routinely picked it up from others. There are a number of reasons why they parrot it... the likeliest being that simply want to be seen saying the thing that lots of other people they know also say; so that by so doing, they can be seen as Smart. (This is of course just another a manifestation of our old generally-maladaptive friend, the so-called herd instinct.) And nine-tenths of those other people, I can guarantee you, got it in turn from others still. "They're too old for this" is rarely going to be a spontaneous insight. (Except when used pertinent to certain contact sports, and some types of opera.)

Yet why does the trope perpetuate itself so enthusiastically?

Leaving aside personal living-arrangement issues in individual cases, I think it's because in some people, underneath the expressed trope, there's a genuine fear... an insidious variation of the well-known impostor syndrome. And it's this:

They're afraid that whatever it is they've got at the moment, it's may well be the wrong kind of "this stuff"... not a real joy. (Some people will take this to mean, "The kind of stuff, or joy, other people will approve of." Cf. the "seeming Smart" thing.) And, as they get older, they may be becoming afraid they may never have it.

Now, people naturally try to protect themselves from experiencing their own fears whenever possible. This one's no different. So one way such folks find to distract themselves from the fear of having no joy is to devalue such joy in others. That way, whatever they see themselves as having their noses spitefully "rubbed in" can be perceived as no longer a real threat to them. They can start seeing it as a bad joy, a weak or silly or stupid joy. And (in this case specifically) an immature joy.

(With this in mind, the passage in which C.S. Lewis deals with this toxic fetishization of "maturity" is worth quoting in full, since we so frequently see only the last couple/few lines:)

“Critics who treat 'adult' as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence. And in childhood and adolescence they are, in moderation, healthy symptoms. Young things ought to want to grow. But to carry on into middle life or even into early manhood this concern about being adult is a mark of really arrested development. When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.”

...And you hear there the voice of a man who'd dealt with a whole lot of critics in his time on this subject—some of them quite famous and elevated types, trying to discredit him for what we'd now think of as "clicks"—and had routinely made them ever so sorry they'd engaged. Also, Lewis was an enthusiastic reader of "the pulps" until his dying day, and you should have seen some of his responses to those who tried to tell him that "at his age, he should be over that science fiction stuff by now." I'd have to go digging for the cites, but... hooboy.

Anyway, and as a closer:

You're not required to—at someone else's mere behest—even think about changing your way of thinking and living in the (probably hopeless) hopes of pleasing or placating other people you've never met. And most specifically:

You are in no wise required by the Universe to curtail your personal experience of joy in order to try to make scared and small-souled people more comfortable.Your soul gets to be its own size, and have its own joy... in its very own shape, volume, and richness.

So if anyone pulls the "You're too old for [x]" crap on you, I encourage you to just let that attitude sail on by you and fuck straight out into the Oort Cloud and beyond. Let passing alien spacecraft on their way in-system gaze at it in wonder and say, "Wow, look at that go! Didn't think they had warp drive here yet."

...Anyway: let me know how you get on.

HTH!

*This is a basic assertiveness-training technique that I feel is much undervalued in daily usage. Every time someone comes up with a new reason you should stop doing what they don't like, and expects you to respond to that... what makes them think you're required to come up with a new and different reason not to? Who made that concept up? And why waste useful originality on someone arguing with you in the kind of bad faith that refuses to accept your answers? Just keep repeating yourself with the main reason until they give up (probably in great exasperation: too bad...) and bugger off elsewhere. :) ...But see the useful 1970s work When I Say No, I Feel Guilty for effective DIY approaches to this problem.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

How NoirPunk Meets - Hobie Brown x Noir!Peter Parker Headcanons

a/n: listen okay these two just hear me out- just listen i swear these two are perfect for each other on god i promise just trust me

also i be calling noir peter if thats okay i dont really see that much

—————————————————

So let's just be honest they're a large part of why the other sticks around in the society, and I wouldn't be surprised if -

Hobie was the one that finally got Noir!Peter to join

I really like the idea that Hobie was the thing that convinced him to join.

I mean, Peter has his own shit going on, he's not just fighting Goblin and the usual villains - he's actively trying to stop a fascist regime and thought system.

I could absolutely see the society approaching him multiple times, and Peter just declining. He's the brooding type to work alone, and (aside from learning about color), it wouldn't be surprised if he was just uncomfortable with this whole 'secret society of superhumans that controls the flow of history' thing...because, y'know

So as a last ditch effort, Miguel and Jess ask Lyla whose left and who's algorithmically their best bet at recruiting him

And Lyla is like '..You know who ;) '

Miguel is like 'Jesus Christ anyone but him' - because they barely send Hobie on missions for a reason!! He's a huge wildcard

and convincing Hobie to recruit someone else is a whole different story for another time

Hobie went to Peter's universe already planning to have him as an ally

It was only after they debriefed him on Spider-Noir and what he does that Hobie agreed

Even from his case file - which Hobie thinks it's creepy they have that but whatever - Hobie admired him and his activism

SO much of world theory and social understanding developed from the thirties onward, so already he'd feel a connection and understanding, being almost impressed by Noir

And despite what he lets on to Miguel, Hobie is smart and informed as fuck, and from his large knowledge of world history, so he already knew what he was getting into

But the first time he stepped into Noir's universe it was like turning the world on its head

It really shocked Hobie, which is pretty hard to do

It was like going from the world's loudest room to dead silence. It's a kind of serenity that kind of puts Hobie at ease. The rain, the darkness, the quiet, all that

Which is why Peter comes home one night to Hobie just chilling in his apartment like it's nothing

He's just laid out on the couch like 'Oh great, for a second I thought The Man was going to have you working all night.'

And like COME ONNNN could you imagine from Peter's POV

Working literally all night, tired as hell, coming home to the dark of his apartment with the rain outside, and he just finds Hobie, vibrant and pink on his couch, his color the only thing in the room

Usually Peter turned away all the others from the society, but he felt like Hobie might be different

So he let him stay, and offered to hear him out

But what's supposed to be a recruitment pitch turns into hours of Hobie and Peter at Peter's kitchen table, shooting the shit and talking about anything

Peter makes them some coffee as Hobie looks over Peter's book collection, smiling at the ones filled with Peter's notes and thoughts in the margins

Peter is almost taken a back, because Hobie is so bold and out there and worldly

He's surprised to meet someone actually interested in justice - real, actual justice - and equality. Someone whose ready to talk about it so openly and say 'hey fuck this amiright'

It's SO refreshing to Peter

He's impressed that Hobie has all of this vocabulary, describing complex ideals that were still being formed and whispered about in 1933.

In a universe full of rain and shadows and shades of grey, meeting Hobie is like falling into an oil painting for Peter. He's full of color and humor and ease and confidence - his humor is scathing and honest, and Hobie's the first one to make Peter laugh at a joke about anti-capitalism

The first night they meet they kinda just get lost in each other

And UHHHH yeah they keep going

Hobie comes back the first night and tells Miguel that he's 'still staking Noir out', not telling him they've actually met

And for the next four nights, Hobie came over to Noir's place, just to see him, and talk

Peter knows why Hobie's there, and Hobie isn't trying to hide it. In the beginning he tells Noir straight up that he's here for recruitment, that he thinks it's bullshit, and that eventually he's going to do something about it

But he asks Noir to join because, yeah, Hobie likes him a lot, and he wants to see him more. And he thinks he'd be one of the most valuable allies to have, ever.

Noir is literally his comrade.

And Noir agrees (, but he probably will have some terms and conditions to take up with Miguel later, like the kind of missions he will do, the amount of time he can and can't spend away from his dimension, etc)

But for the next four nights, they spend it just with each other, learning each other and trading ideas, drinking coffee in Peter's apartment and listening to vinyls

And they just make each other so soft

Sometimes, Hobie brings papers from his world to show Peter

The third time he visits, Hobie brings him a stack of zines - colorful little booklets full of collages and bold ink

On some nights, Hobie reads over Peter's first drafts at his kitchen table, watching Peter make coffee on the stove, the old-fashioned way

People at the Bugle start to notice that even if it's subtle, Peter seems more at ease and easygoing, and he has DOZENS of new, forward thinking ideas in his writing that he's excited about

Meanwhile Hobie's been in a great mood (which Miguel hates cause he's a hater like that)

He asks Hobie for a status report, and Hobie smuggly tells him that the missions accomplished

And Lyla is grinning her little ass off because OF COURSE she knew that algorithmically they're romantically compatible

(And YES Lyla sets up mission teams based on her own little matchmaker algorithm without Miguel's permission because she thinks its funny)

From then on Noir requests he either be assigned solo missions or missions with Hobie

And they go around HQ calling each other their 'partner' and neither refuses to elaborate any further

Mission partner? Dating partner? Partner-in-crime? ALL THREE.

__________

im obsessed with these geniuses. look at what they've done to me (and by they I mean myself I've done this to myself)

hi thxs for reading also this was not proofread so if you see a typo my adhd says no you didnt

[malarign]

heeseung as your boyfriend!

(soft moments with him)

contains: bf!Heeseung x gn!reader | genre: fluff, one of them is slightly suggestive, nothing crazy but still decided to point it out | tw! implications of sexual tensions (again, nothing happens) | wc: 1,4k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreaciated!!!

other members’ versions: PJS - SJY - PSH - KSW - YJW - NRK

➶ keeping passionate eye contact *ೃ༄

Heeseung is either a very confident or a complete shy mess, there’s no in-between. But when he does feel confident enough he would often keep a long and passionate eye contact with you. Usually does it pretty randomly, like when you’re waiting for your order at the restaurant, cuddling at home or even doing your groceries. He exactly knows the impact it has on you, even though you often try not to let him know the intimacy his eyes hold makes your knees weak.

You finished doing the dishes while Heeseung was helping you by drying them and putting them in their assigned cabinets. Accompanied by soft music, everything seemed to pass quicker, even if it was something like doing your hated house chores. You wanted to sit down after cleaning up when you noticed Heeseung offering his hand.

“May I have this dance with you, ma’am?” he asked suddenly all serious. Hearing your favorite song to have a slow dance with him you accepted his hand and soon you in his arms, swinging to the rhythm of the music.

His eyes didn’t leave yours for the whole time you danced. It conveyed so much that for a while you had to think about what exactly it was. Admiration mixed with joy caused by this moment topped by pure love he had for you. His stare wasn’t an intense look that makes you want to look somewhere else. It was soft and dreamy as if he wanted to tell you: “I love you so much, my dear.”

➶ giving you back rubs and head scratches *ೃ༄

If Heeseung was to describe in one or two words it would be comfort and peacefulness. Even though he has his hyperenergetic moments most of the time you spent with each other is rather calm, making both of you clear your minds. Those times also would include an intense amount of touch that at the beginning somehow overwhelmed you but after a while, you just started to melt in his touch. Especially the way his hand wandered the skin of your back or tangled in your hair while scratching your scalp helped you just instantly fall asleep, no matter what time of the day it was.

“Hi baby,” he said after you plopped next to him on the couch. You immediately found your favorite spot, by laying on top of him and burying your face in the crook of his neck, earning a breathy laugh from him. “How was your day, baby?”

“Tiring,” you mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

You hummed in satisfaction as his hand went under your shirt to rub your back. Smiling to yourself you listened to his comforting words.

“You always work so hard, and I’m proud of you,” he spoke and pecked your hairline lovingly.

“I love you, Hee,” you confessed. “You always make me feel so loved.”

“Well, I’m glad, because I love you so much, my big baby.”

➶ laying his head on yours *ೃ༄

For some reason, Heeseung seems like a guy who loves touch that involves the head. Patting his partner's head, playing with each other's locks, brushing fingers through them, trying new hairstyles. All of them bring come different kinds of comfort that he can’t explain. Whenever you just hang out and sit next to each other, either sitting at the bus stop or in a cafe, he just lays his head on top of yours, bonus points if you just lean on his shoulder. The comfort of this position makes his heart feel at ease.

The business of people working in a coffee shop and the soft chatter of its customers surrounded you. The fuss didn’t bother any of you, as you just comfortably sipped on your beverages, sitting next to each other in the corner, having a perfect view of the whole cafe.

You laid your head on his shoulder, and soon he followed your action, his head landing on yours.

“Can I try yours?” Heeseung suddenly asked pointing to your drink and lifting his head. You just handed him the cup without saying a word. You waited for his reaction and looked up at him, noticing how his adam’s apple raised as he sipped. He hummed at the delicious taste of your order and handed it back to you. “I like it,” he said and his head once again laid on yours.

➶ sharing earphones *ೃ༄

Sharing the same or at least very similar music taste is for Heeseung a true game changer when it comes to relationships. Music plays an important part in his life, not only as a singer or dancer but as a person who just listens to it 24/7. Seeing him with earphones is natural, just like the fact that he doesn’t often share them with anybody. Anybody but you. Whenever he sees you while he’s listening to some music through earphones, he just makes you walk with him handing you one of them.

The rain poured hard, raindrops hitting the bus’s windows with strong impact. Behind it, you spotted a few people running to nearby stores to hide from it, while all your fellow passengers quietly observed the situation. Since some parts of the city were flooded, roads were full of cars and other buses that didn’t seem to move any minute.

Your thoughts were stopped when you noticed Heeseung handing you one of his wired earphones. Without saying a word you looked at him and put it in your right ear while he did the same. You peeked at his phone to see what he was about to play. You smiled at his choice, perfect for weather like tonight.

Leaning on his shoulder you closed your eyes, feeling his hands gently playing with your fingers. His touch along with relaxing rain and music sounds made you sleepy, you didn’t even realize when you dozed off.

➶ pulling you closer by your waist *ೃ༄ | slightly suggestive

What brings an indefinite amount of joy to his heart is seeing you all smiley or shy. Testing your reactions to different types of skin ship he finally found a perfect way to make your heart flutter as well as his, which was pulling you closer by your waist. Throughout your whole relationship, he did it so often that it became a casual way of him saying a whole bunch of different confessions, from “You’re so beautiful”, “I love you so much” and in specific moments “I want you so badly”.

Getting final touch-ups to your makeup you made your way to the living room where Heeseung waited for you, ready for your date night. The moment he saw you he couldn’t contain his smile, eyeing you up and down, making you shy. He stood up and in a swift motion pulled you closer by your waist. Your bodies clasped together and you tried to hold eye contact with him as long as you could.

“It should be illegal to look like this,” he said in a flirty tone.

“Like what?” you played along but he didn’t respond and just pulled you closer to kiss you passionately.

His lips were soft in contrary to the rough kiss. His hands wandered on your sides and hips as you tangled your fingers in his locks. Before it led to something more you pulled out earning a frown and unconscious pout on his lips.

“Let’s go,” you spoke innocently and took his hand in yours.

“Y/n, I swear to God, you’ll be the death of me.”

➶ making playlists with songs that remind him of you *ೃ༄

Just like I stated, Heeseung truly believes his whole life depends on and relies on the music. You could even say that music is somehow his default love language. He enjoys dancing, singing and just vibing to his favorite songs with you. What he does when he misses you or finds an album that he thinks you would like or just reminds him of you is just add it to a playlist with your initials as a title. Sometimes he forgets himself and spends the whole afternoon picking perfect matches before finally sending you a link to them.

“What are you doing?” you popped on the couch next to your boyfriend, who was busy the whole evening with his phone.

Curiosity killed you and you couldn’t stand it any more so you took a look at his phone and the view didn’t surprise you that much.

“Another one?” you asked smiling at the sight of another playlist named after you.

Heeseung just turned his head to face you, showing you the purest smile ever, a short peck on the corner of your lips following that.

“You’re gonna love this one, even more than the last one,” he spoke shaking his head, proud of his song choice.

You leaned your head on his shoulder and stole a sneaky peak at his phone once again. This time he hid it from you and sent you a playful look.

“Oh nah, you have to wait until I sent it to you to find out what’s there,” he spoke and wagged his finger at you.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @edensgardenn (in bold can’t be tagged)

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Haunted Memories

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 3.6K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: trauma from abusive mother, vomit, DESCRIPTION OF POSSIBLE SEXUAL ASSUALT

—————

I wish I didn't care. 'Cause I just can't compare and oh how the bitterness stings. What am I doing wrong? Do I just not belong? Oh, why can't I excel at something? Like you.

“What is wrong with you?”

Her voice roars through the small apartment rattling the walls. Your head instinctively ducks down at the sheer volume as salty tears already form in your eyes. You didn’t mean for it to happen it was an accident, you had a simple job go and get the food with the ration cards. Your tiny hands clutching the cards that determine whether you will eat or not as you race through the streets excitement across your face happy to provide help to your mother.

“How stupid are you?”

That insult was thrown at you so many times it slowly became fact. You were a stupid kid. A disgrace, brat, failure. Any comment under the sun could describe how stupid you were. The ration building was so close and the warm feeling ready to hear the praise come from your mother when you returned home.

“I should have made sure you were never born.”

Just feet away and your short legs tripped against some mere trash. You should have paid more attention, she says you’re always daydreaming your attention a thousand miles away. You hit the ground hard and fast, the scrape of concrete against your fragile skin as your grasp of the small paper cards gets picked up by the wind. You watch frozen on your stomach watching the ticket to a meal fly into the gutter disappearing from your view and in that moment you had been given a fate worse than death.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is living with such an ungrateful brat!” She was right you were one. You took her kindness for granted and this is how you repay her. Your hands clutch the end of her shirt tears welling up in your eyes as you begged for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry mama..please I’m sorry!” It hurt worse hitting the ground once more but this time at the hands of your mother. You hold your breath trying to keep in the tears but fail the second you smack against the tile of the kitchen. Fat tears roll down your face stinging the tiny cuts across your face from falling on the street as you cry before your mother. Her warnings to force you to stop go on deaf ears as you wail before her and beg for forgiveness. It was pathetic really. Big tears and snot pouring out of the child had only triggered the older woman more just the noise sent her into a rage.

“I told you…to stop fucking crying!” A harsh grip on your arm as you’re pulled to your feet stumbling to try to keep up. The door to the outside rips open as you’re tossed out your body colliding with the cold snow producing a sharp cry. Scrambling to your knees you look up at your mother disgust branded on her face as she stares at not a child anymore but a young woman.

“Starve for all I care. I don’t care about you…your bastard of a father never cared about you..the world doesn’t care about you.” Her words are like venom, as you bite your lip so hard blood pours from the self-afflicted wound. The door shakes on its old hinges as it slams shut. You race to the old wood your hands pounding on the door pleads falling from your lips,

“Mama…I’m sorry please let me in.” Your voice is hoarse and cracks with your words. The snow soaks into your thin clothes your body quickly numbs as you cry hoping she finds pity and brings you inside away from here where anyone could snatch you up and harm you.

 The cable wraps around your throat tightly dragging you away from your safety as your voice is choked by the wire. It digs deep into your skin scratching to pull it free as your precious air is drained from your lungs. The other raider stalks toward you in the snow as your legs kick out the storm rages on muffling your screams.

Cries for your mother to come to your aid.

Help me.

Save me. 

Love me.

Your prayers go unanswered as the cable gets taut, your lungs burning, screaming for air. The burly man towers over you pinning you the cold of the snow burning your skin as his hands move toward his belt ready to take what he wants.

This was what she warned you about. You’re a stupid girl who never listens to her.

“Mama please!” Your screams echo through the air as the man with no jaw reveals a rotten bloody grin as his hand grabs your pants.

Air rushes through your lungs as you shoot upwards the rapid ascent of bile as you fall from the bed pain pulsing in your shoulder. Your sore body stumbles to the bathroom barely reaching the toilet as you expel whatever little was in your stomach. Your eyes sting as you empty your stomach coughing at the acidic taste, feeling drained as you slump back against the wall. You wince at the inhale your hand raising to your throat sucking in a harsh breath feeling the bandaged skin but the light pressure just tracing it sends you recoiling.

Fuck that hurts.

Flushing the toilet while pulling yourself up with the help of the sink running the water to wash your hands and then cupping water in your palms to drink. Spitting out the water in the sink semi-cleaning your mouth from the bitter taste of bile you look up at the mirror. Why hadn’t you anticipated the attack? You should’ve known one was going to be coming from behind. Your brows draw together a deep frown across your face looking at yourself. Those dark circles, the weakness in your bones and muscles, you’re getting weaker.

Getting weaker makes you vulnerable.

Weak means you’ve become a liability.

Weak means you can’t protect yourself.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

The world wasn’t going to wait for you to heal. The world doesn’t care about you.

Your joints ache removing the bandages seeing the raw wound across your neck and the neat stitching along your shoulder. The water runs a murky red removing the dried blood and grime off your body wishing to stay under the hot water forever but you knew you would have to get out. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to running hot water.

You had to bite down on your lip to muffle the sounds of pain as you redressed your wounds and dressed in clothes. Your limbs ache and you already feel drained of energy but you need to persevere through. The house is silent looking out the windows it didn’t even look like the sun had risen yet. Your body begs you to return to bed and sleep but you ignore the rational side, when you lived in the cabin the few times you injured yourself you were right back at work. Surviving to get to where you are today didn’t allow you to rest, if that meant traveling with healing wounds or cold then it happened.

The walk to the stables could have been peaceful if it wasn’t for the slight pounding in your head that only grew worse when you made it to the building. You barely acknowledge the horses as they seem to sense your weakened state putting them in a concern mode. Red nudges her head against your hand when you pat the side of her face. A noise of worry for the young girl that took care of them all.

Joel was surprised to not be plagued with nightmares given the circumstances that occurred not even twenty-four hours ago. No dreams of failing those he cared about, watching the ones he loved taken from him so brutally leaving him just an empty shell. He was also surprised by the quietness of the home, no pounding of shoes rushing through the house or the banging of cabinets as Ellie went scavenging for a meal for the growing girl. Glancing at the functioning clock resting against the bedside table he saw how late he had slept in for. It was almost noon for christ sake he scolds himself. Pushing himself up and out of bed with a groan to get at the late start in the day. His joints ache and crack as he rises to his feet and the loud noise of someone bounding up the stairs makes him feel slightly alright knowing this was normal in this new life of his.

The pounding on the bedroom door was something he didn’t think was normal. A tired shuffle quickly turned into annoyance as he dressed himself as the door continued to be beaten by whoever was outside of it.

“I’m coming! You can stop your poundin’!” He shouts his voice hoarse from using it for the first time today. “Why the hell are yo-” He already had a feeling it was Ellie as he swung the door revealing the younger girl but what came out of her wasn’t what he expected.

“She’s gone!” The panic and fear in her voice and face seemed to completely wake the older man up.

“What?” Immediately alert as Ellie starts pulling him out of his room and dragging him to the stairs, “I woke up and thought to make you guys breakfast and when I went to go check out her she wasn’t there! Her shoes and coat were gone, and it looked like she hadn’t been there for hours. I wanted to go looking but I knew I should have woken you up.”

“Settle down kiddo, it’s alright. Get your shoes and coat we’ll go get Tommy.” And like he summoned his brother the front door swings open and in comes the younger Miller brother with surprisingly the person they were about to go after who looked on the verge of keeling over.

“What the hell! Where were you?!” Ellie starts spewing questions running up to her and grabbing her shoulders. The motion makes the older girl’s eyes widen and she pulls back right out the door barely making it to the porch railing before emptying her stomach right over into the snow below. Ellie and Joel jump back at the sudden action as Tommy who seems to have already dealt with this holds your hair back as you cough and spit out bile, the acidic taste bringing tears to your eyes.

“Holy fuck.” Ellie turns from the sight not able to handle someone being sick causing a turn in her stomach. Joel watches as Tommy gives some comforting words while you rest your head on the railing trying to catch your breath.

“Alright let’s get you inside,” Tommy says softly helping you back to your feet both men were surprised by the complacency given your rejection of their help last night. The younger Miller brother helps you sit on the couch pulling a blanket across your lap before joining his brother back by the front door.

“Where the hell did you find her?” Joel questions both men glancing over at you and the sickly expression and demeanour that surrounds you. “Stables was going to take her shift until someone could cover her. Found her barely able to stand looking like the wind could blow her away.” Looking back at you to find Ellie sitting beside you on the couch trying to offer you a glass of water and you accept with weak hands.

Your head was pounding with the weak sips of water added weight to your empty stomach creating more pain. Being in Jackson you’ve gotten too used to actual meals or decent food instead of picking scrapes or rationing food to last you when you were in the cabin. Even in Kansas, the limited ration cards were barely enough for a growing child your stomach used to times of going through the day with maybe only one meal or just a crumb of food in your body.

“Hey kid,” Tommy’s voice pulls you from your thoughts with a heavy head looking up at the older man squatted in front of you. “You just stay there with Ellie and keep drinking water. Gonna get you soup something light on your stomach alright?” You hum bringing your attention back to your drink and Tommy stands with a groan both he and Joel head elsewhere from your field of vision. You’re sure Joel said something to Ellie but your eyes drifted shut only to blink awake from a poke at your thigh and a whisper of your name.

“Thank fuck I thought you stopped breathing for a second,” Ellie sighs and you shift your position feeling a crick in your neck from how you rested it. Ellie sat on one end her legs crossed on the cushion while you were more splayed out on your end.

“Where’d they go?” You grumble rubbing your eyes and wincing from the soreness in your shoulder when moving it.

“Uh Tommy went to go get you some food from the mess hall and Joel went to get you painkillers for your shoulder and something for your fever,” Ellie explains fiddling with the comic in her hands. She felt a lot of pressure on her shoulders being responsible for someone much older than her. Joel basically telling to keep an eye on her and no matter the circumstances ‘Don’t Let Her Leave.’

You cough and a flare of dryness in your throat and you reach for the glass finishing the water lubricating your vocal cords, “I’m fine…” Your hands gripping the couch and trying to push yourself to stand.

“No no no. Joel said you have to stay here until they get back. You shouldn’t have been outside anyway with your injuries.” Ellie rises to her feet and grabs your arms pushing you back onto the couch a groan coming from you. “Sorry! But I can’t let you leave.”

“You’re an asshole.” You hiss your one moment of energy gone once return to the couch. “Whatever keeps you there, I’m gonna get you more water. Don’t move.” She says pointedly grabbing your empty glass she walks backward making sure you’re in her sites before bolting for the kitchen to get you more water. In the few seconds she’s gone you contemplate getting up and trying to leave but your body wins out on your mind shutting down in exhaustion.

“Alright, more water for you.” She holds it out and you accept it with a grunt, “You’re welcome.” Rolling her eyes she returns to her spot silence between the two of you before she speaks up.

“How did you get those burns on your arms.”

“No.” A tense air covers the living room and you can see Ellie fidgeting in the awkward tension and the coldness that came from you from just one word.

“I just thought…I don’t know if it’s good to talk about things. Joel says it isn’t healthy to keep things to yourself, though when I tell him shit he just scolds me and gets made like it wasn’t my fucking fault,” She kinda goes off track before refocusing, “I’m just saying maybe talking about it to someone who may get you. Instead of an adult that’s just gonna be annoying and berate you.”

“You’re like twelve though?” You say and she smacks your leg with her comic, “Fuck you I’m sixteen! You’re only two years older.” You smirk a light chuckle leaves you and Ellie has a look of shock.

“You just laughed? I’ve never heard you fucking laugh!” She gets all excited as you take of sip of your water, “And you’ll never hear it again.”

“Come on! You didn’t even crack a grin at my joke book and you know those were fucking funny.” She points her finger at you before leaning back against the arm of the couch. Your finger circles the rim of the glass your nails broken your skin littered with tiny cuts are fading scars.

“You can ask questions,” Ellie perks up, “But if I don’t want to answer you don’t push it. Got it.” It was a tiny step of her learning about you but she was taking it and running with it.

“Promise! Alright alright!” She fixes herself to be fully facing you an excited grin on your face.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Whatever time passed since Joel and Tommy left Ellie learned as much as she could from your favorite color even though you said you didn’t have one and she said everyone has one until you said orange like sunset orange, you were born in the summer though it took you a while to figure out when you were born, your favorite food being the chocolates Ellie gave you when you first met which lead her to run to the kitchen to grab them the two of you nibbling on them as you spoke, you told her you used to read when you were a kid taking as many books as you could in the QZ school library and during your travels to the cabin to keep you entertained the cabin having your ‘collection’ of books you found. It got to deeper questions that the light air took a different path.

“So how long were you in that cabin before Tommy and Jesse found you?” Ellie asks leaning her arms on her knees with interest.

“I found that place when I had just turned seventeen so it was still warm but it was going to start getting colder soon. I was with people for a bit before I left them. They found me and took me with them…they were Fireflies.” That piece of information has Ellie sitting up straight hearing the rebellion group she was closely connected to.

“You were a Firefly?” She asks and you shrug, “I didn’t believe and still don’t believe in that whole ‘Look for the Light’ bullshit. They didn’t kill me when I stumbled upon their base, they kept me alive and let me stay with them.” They could have killed you, you were just a kid with no benefits for them but they spared you. Kept you alive in this fucked up world.

“Why did you leave?” She asks. Had they come across people you knew when you were traveling? Ellie could tell Joel that you were a ‘Firefly’ maybe he’d met you before during their travels. Maybe Marlene knew of you or maybe Tommy might she was sure Joel mentioned Tommy being a Firefly once.

“Place got attacked. I’m not sure who it was but I didn’t have any ties to them. I wasn’t fighting in a dying rebellion so I left and found myself tired and bleeding at that cabin.” You say. You remember that quiet, the peace that was there in that building before you heard the pop of bullets, and suddenly people were yelling running towards the fight unaware it was coming straight towards them.

“You got hurt?” Ellie says concern in her voice. “Grabbed whatever I could and ran, whatever group or whoever was there got me. The bullet went right through my calf no matter how fast I ran. I couldn’t outrun them so I just lay there and hoped they thought I was dead.

The pain of the bullet ripping through flesh your body hitting the ground and you just reacted smearing the blood of the dead Firefly next to you and just laid there. You heard the footsteps drawing near until they stopped right before you and for a second you were actually fearful that you would die. You heard the clatter of the empty magazine land inches from your face before whoever was before you looted the Firefly’s weapon and continued on leaving you there. You weren’t sure how long you stayed there until you got up and limped your way out of that building.

“I fixed myself up then just walked until I stumbled up the cabin you know the rest.” You say and it’s quiet before you place the once again empty glass to the side looking at Ellie an unrecognizable look on her face. “You alright?” She quickly looks up the look disappears as well.

“Yeah..yeah I’m good.” She says with a nod and you return one as well, “It wasn’t an easy life but it was my life. I rather deal with the infected. They are predictable I know how they work. But people…the ones still living in this fucked up world. They are the reason I stayed in the cabin.”

It was an understandable reason, infected were easier to read and how to avoid them or to kill them. Humans had different ideas and ways of living, and that made them more dangerous. If it wasn’t for a fungus infecting a majority of them we all would have killed each sooner or later.

“All these years who taught you to survive…who looked after you in the QZ? Where were your parents during all of this.” The shock in your veins just from the mention of the two people who created you, mainly the one who was in your life.

“You think I’m going to look after an ungrateful fucking brat?!”

With the slam of that glass bottle, the chips and cracks form just waiting for the one moment when it explodes when slammed just hard enough.

The smell of the smoke would cloud the house, making your eyes water, and your lungs tight begging for fresh air.

Your skin burns as the stick is held against your skin. Screams and pleads blare in your head.

“This is all your fault!”

“Pass.”

Where the Wild Things Are Tags

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[thelovelywriteress]

➷ Hard-fist crush

▶︎ɪᴛᴏɴᴀ x ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴛ ғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

────────────────────────────

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Everyone would have seen you as some secret sister of Karma if wasn't for the distinct difference between you both.

He is cool and violent. You are annoyed and violent.

He punches people because he finds it cool. You punch people because they easily irritate you.

Class doubt they have ever see any other expression on your face except annoyance or angry.

Even though you're always have that scoff on your face, it wasn't a lie to say you got a pretty face. Many even conclude it as "waste for face like this."

When Itona finally join the class, you didn't care about him much. He joined the Terasaka gang and that was it. You see him as another student and someone else who you have to ensure.

It didn't take much time for Itona to learn about everyone in class, including you! He observed how boys compliment your looks and conclude how it oversee your violent behaviour too. Apparently your angry is got to be charm about you.

You and Itona didn't officially interact before one day you accidentally let your phone washed with your uniform. Now that your wasn't working, you need to spend god knows how on its repair. And you hate to spend your money on anything other than food.

As you were cursing yourself for being so careless, you come across Itona. Looks like he was checking some tools? Now like mention above you didn't officially interact before so you were kind of fighting yourself on whether you should go or not. Since you were in good mood you decide a casual hi wouldn't be much.

'What'cha doing? Looking at any other store to destroy?' Got to say you don't got best way to start conversation. Itona didn't react, heck he didn't even acknowledge your presence and it irked you. You was about to hit his head untill he finally said something to you too.

'You're that 'such a waste for pretty face', right?'

'Who?!'

Let's say Itona end up telling how Maehara and Okajima describe you and now you were planning all ways to hit them that they don't be able to ever walk again.

But again they weren't here right now and your phone was still not working. Sighing you ask him about any cheap mobile repairing shop. He does seems to be interested in these kinds of things, maybe he can give you lead?

Turns out he can't give you lead. HE IS LEAD. Bro specialise in mobile repairing too. Though you didn't trust him your phone, you reluctantly did give him your phone. Afterall he did seem type to be sure about its ability.

You decided to take him to a eating place. If he can repair your home, might repay him with food. You was munching on some food while his hand continue to do things with your phone.

You eyed him sometimes through repair process - unlike the times he wasn't part of your class his eyes look lot calmer now. On closer observation you notice his appearance; his hair look so white and soft. 'Are they soft too?' You subconsciously wonder.

"Here. It's done." You never realised you have been staring at him until Itona pulled his eyes towards you. You feel little embarrassed though you quickly hide it by checking your phone. Surprisingly it was working well.

"Wow. It's working so smoothly. Literally like a new one." This boy sure got good mechanic skills. He just nonchalant shrug and told he was just helping a classmate and munch on some food you order for him as payment. You did the same and it was silence for while.

"You aren't much violent like they describe you." He stated as you give him a werid look. Was he observing you? You started to feel little self-conscious but you quickly brushed it off. "What you interested to know about me?" You give a slight smirk,"Lots of guys in class are." Oh. "Since you're beast in beauty's body." What?

For next few moments you heard come information from Itona about how boys see you. "That fucking piece of shits- Maehara and Okajima!" You clutch your fist viens popping out. As Itona just keep munching on the food you gave him in exchange of information. He didn't seem to have any remorse for guys he sell out.

"Waste for a face like mine, huh?" You said in a low tone as you sat down. You were aware of the fact how much fist-lover you was but still it stings a bit how guys things about this and even disscus it in front of new guys. You weren't sure if you were annoyed by the fact you didnt hear a single good thing about you other than your body or that even new kid thinks you as some wild girl who didn't suit this body.

"They're wrong though." What? You quickly break out of your inner monologue as you stare at Itona, wanting him to justify his statement. "They say waste for a face like you but I think your personality suits your face very much." You don't know if he was saying this to confront you or what but you still feel arise of little happiness inside you. Plus basing on how Itona is, you felt statement was genuine. "I think if anything, you're overall cute." Huhhh! And for first time you were genuinely flustered too.

"If anything, you're overall cute. This sentence was playing rent free in your mind. "Argh! Stupid! Stupid!" You burried your face in your pillow as you remember the way he said it was like it was most obvious thing in world. And after that day you become visible flustered whenever Itona even pass through you.

"Don't come near me!"

"But I need to go out and it's only way to door."

"Shut up!"

You even annoyed at students aren't weren't big deal but for some reaction you were literally warry of every act of Itona.

"Here have it." You give him a cold medicine after you notice he had been sneezing all day. "

"Huh idiot like you forgot lunch. I am not even suprise." Proceeds to give him half of her lunch while taunting him some more.

Everyone was so confused like what the hell was going on between you and Itona untill Karma point out. "She literally got obvious crush on him idiots."

Yeah he knew because he do something same too. More you act all arrogant and mighty, more confused you get when you're in love. Bro probably do something same. 😒☝️

And it wasn't before everyone start teasing you both. Especially you, since you had punch almost everyone in the class and it was time for payback but only it wasn't payback cause you were ready to break bones of anyone who dare to do it.

Even they realised they can't tease you. They move towards Itona and he didn't even understand how they come to this conclusion - like don't you literally just taunt and pick on him all the time with side generous acts.

But with time even he started to get annoyed by it; "Yo Itona what's your favorite thing about her?" "When she punches you people so hard, you fly out of window."

───────────────────────────────────

Itona my beloved. 🥹 Seriously we need more Itona content, especially without all yandere stuff. 😤☝️

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this for @perks-of-being-jojo I hope you like it!

It is a Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace x wife!reader imagine.

Thank you @famfan-1034 for proofreading!

Warnings: tiniest allusions to smut, I’m so sorry this is so late but I had my hands full recently

The Hard Deck was packed full with every kind of aviator when you arrived at its front door.

It stood open invitingly and you entered with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, your sundress flowing in the light evening breeze.

The amount of people was overwhelming, the Hard Deck seemed to burst at the seams, but Nat had already told you so.

She was freshly deployed, which was why you were dying to see her.

Back at home you had been living together and you missed her, the flight to Miramar was irritatingly long and you hadn’t seen her in over two weeks, which was why you had decided to surprise her.

She had texted you to say she was going out with the boys and you were excited about it, it was a chance for you to have a grand entrance.

Strolling into the bar you found the aviators you were looking for by the pool table, but nevertheless you went to the counter to buy yourself a drink.

You were excited to see Nat and she looked as beautiful as ever, nevertheless you held back.

Nat didn’t know you were coming but you had decided to visit her over the weekend, because you missed her too much.

You turned to the bartender to order your drink and when you turned around you met the eyes of Nat and her friends, who were suddenly watching you.

Despite feeling self-conscious you reciprocated the stare, a smile appearing on your lips at the way Nat and her friends were looking at you.

You knew the dress looked good on you but the hungry and surprised stares were also a big indication.

Over at the pool table Nat’s eyes were wide as she saw you standing by the bar, not believing her eyes that you were actually at the Hard Deck.

She was standing between Jake and Bradley, who too were looking at her wife, not knowing who she actually was.

“Jeez, Bradshaw, would you look at that,” Jake spoke up, glancing at his fellow aviator to find him transfixed by your presence.

“A woman of your taste, is it?” He asked his friend but didn’t see how Nat nodded her head at the question, instead focusing on his favorite male rival.

He watched as Bradley swallowed slightly as you seemed to look back at him, sending him a smile in the process.

You seemed into it, so a devilish grin appeared on Jake’s face.

“I dare you to go talk to her and ask her out,” he added, and watched as Bradley’s eyes finally fell from your form to look at him.

He could see the tips of Bradley’s ears turn pink but Bradley lifted his chin defiantly, sending his friend a grin.

Neither of the men noticed Nat’s surprised smirk but she didn’t say anything, letting everything play out in front of her.

You just got your beer from Penny, breaking eye contact with your wife to receive said beverage, when a beefy, mustached guy, undoubtedly Bradley Bradshaw, suddenly appeared in front of you.

It took you a second to realize that he was talking to you when you took a sip, your wedding ring gleaming in the light of the bar.

He didn’t seem to mind.

“So, I couldn’t help seeing that you were staring at me earlier. And to answer your question; yes, I would be the best you ever had,” he came on strong, and you had to fight yourself to keep a straight face.

You desperately wanted to laugh as you realized Bradley was exactly like Nat had described him.

“Oh wow, that’s impressive. And here I thought the ‘stache was a woman-repellent,” you answered as you looked up at him, batting your lashes as you perceived his reaction.

For just a second Bradley seemed taken aback but then he leaned closer, putting his arm on the bar beside you.

“You know, actually it does wonders in just the right places,” he answered, and the fight to keep a straight face was once again almost hopeless.

You were just about to say something when Nat and who you assumed was Jake joined the conversation.

They just stood next to you, making a group out of the two of you.

While none of the guys had any context Nat was quick to act, reaching up to angle your chin towards her and going in for a heated kiss.

The men’s eyes widened as Nat pulled you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other hand leisurely grabbed your ass, holding onto it and squeezing it a little, to assert dominance.

It was all quite amusing to you but above it all your chest swelled with pride at how possessive your wife was, that she didn’t let her friend even think about you.

Jake let out a small whistle as he watched you and Nat’s grin was proud when she pulled away, her hand not leaving your body as she glanced at Bradley.

“Bradshaw, Seresin, meet my wife,” she said with her voice rougher than usual, which in turn had you smiling with pride.

The men looked dumbfounded and Bradley chuckled in confusion, before his face turned into a rather polite expression.

“Nice to meet you,” he replied like a mechanism and Jake laughed at him, while Nat’s attention was solely on you.

“What are you doing here, babe?” She asked as she smiled at you, and you returned the favor.

“I just missed you, is all,” you replied in a low voice, and she moved even closer to hold you to her.

She pressed a kiss to your cheek before she pulled away, her eyes roaming your face before they finally redirected to her fellow aviators.

“Sorry, gents, we’ll be leaving now,” she said as her hand fell to yours and she intertwined your fingers.

“I have my wife to take care of, and only limited time,” she added, and before you knew it you found yourselves in Nat’s truck, with her hand already under your skirt.

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[hedghost]

Hedge’s Unofficial Ratings of 2024 Adidas Kits That A Few People Asked For This Time

Let’s start strong with Germany! Did someone say kuntenserven?

Everyone’s seen this home kit and rightfully, everyone loves it. It’s just so sexy, how could you not? The crisp clean white paired with the classic adidas stripes, but with that sexy germany flag gradient? oh lord i’m weak at the knees. Naturally it’s helped by the fact that the germans have a pretty sexy colour pallete to work with, but still.Even the diamond detailing like oml. It just looks fire, literally. i love it. -9/10

The away kit meanwhile is kind of spinning my head a bit. I genuinely don’t know if i love it or hate it. in theory i love hot pink kits, but i also fucking hate the purple gradient. if the whole thing was pink i’d say absolutely yes because i genuinely love garish eyesores, but this is just not hitting the spot for me. also what’s with the pattern? this is what i imagine you would see if a hedgehog went down on you. undecided - 5.5/10

Wales’s sense of style reflects their Euros qualifications… in that i’m yet to see either

don’t get me wrong the home isn’t bad, it’s just nothing special, and nothing we haven’t seen before. i like the green and yellow stripes up the side, that’s a nice touch, but other than that i’m left feeling uninspired, which is probably how the welsh feel when they watch their men’s team play. still, i’m sure hayley ladd serves in it so - 6/10

the away kit though? yep that’s fucking ugly. whoever decided that wales should include yellow in their red and green colour scheme needs jail time, and also probably an eye test. what the fuck is that shade? yellow is very hard to make look good so props for trying, but just no. plus they missed the chance for green kits, objectively the best kit colour possible, yet also the most underused. (and don’t say it’s because it blends into the grass because that’s blatantly not true). i like the fun zigzags down the side, but it’s giving reggae, which is absolutely not the vibe that wales gives. should’ve put a big dragon on the front and called it a day - 3/10

Spain, what did I just say about ugly yellow kits?

The home kit is lovely. They didn’t feel the need to push the boat out, but why disrupt a classic? These shades go so well together, and there’s also a very faint but very nice pattern on the shirt if you look closely. its bright, it’s energetic. it’s giving fire, flames and lightning mcqueen. kachow! - 8/10

Away kit is absolutely fucking disgusting. Are adidas capable of making two nice kits for one team? If you asked me to describe the absolute worst shade of yellow i’d picture exactly that. the word that comes to mind is putrid. and as if that wasn’t enough, they decided to pair it with an absolutely clashing shade of turquoise. no thank you. no me gusta - 3/10

No Scotland No Party? Well with this kit, I’m inclined to agree.

Who would’ve thought a tartan football kit could be a good idea? Not me, and yet here comes Scotland, with an actual fucking masterpiece. This home kit is just, wow. I love it. It’s so clever, such a good nod to the country, and it just looks absolutely incredible. I fucking adore it. I don’t have much else to say other than whoever made this knew what they were doing. Good job - 10/10

The away kit meanwhile, is again, astonishingly mid. It’s fine I guess. Very plain, kind of giving the colour scheme of a cartoon character but i can’t put my finger on which one, but it’s still decent. The colours do go well together, and i like how the side panelling, includes that tartan pattern again, which as i already mentioned, is fucking sexy. just maybe stick to the home - 6/10

Hungary for more? Not really.

This is the wales kit. it is pretty much almost exactly just the wales kit. like it’s fine, but it’s just?? idk i’m bored. also why have they got two badges? greedy much? just a bit busy. idk it’s fine i have literally no other thoughts on this. boring! - 6/10

The away kit is boring as fuck too, but i actually like this one a lot. i think white kits have more license to bore. it’s a nice colour scheme too. does look a bit italian though. idk it looks good but i can’t say why. it’s just classic. the centre adidas logo looks good here. it’s the green im telling you. more green please! - 7.5/10

BELGIUM I AM KISSING YOU ON THE MOUTH

oh my god this home kit. i’m in love and i suddenly wish i was belgian. wow. holy shit. who did belgium pay to get a kit this nice? i’m in genuine awe. the sexy sexy maroon colour, paired with black and gold? fuck me sideways. i’m not joking when i say this kit oozes sex. that pattern?? oh my lord. it’s giving luxury velvet chaise longue. its giving old timey men in those smoking jackets, with a glass of whiskey and a cigar. i feel like i’m in the palace of versailles just looking at it. wow belgium, wow. - 11/10

not only that, they did it! they actually gave us two good kits! this one is based off tintin, and who doesn’t fucking love tintin? i adore it. lovely shade of blue, with this gorgeous pattern again, and the collar? collars should only be used if they add something to the kit, and boy does this add a whole fucking lot. thank you tintin you beautiful boy. what a kit. - 10/10

And now we’re back to normal programming with Italy

The common theme with adidas is boredom. At least when i was rating nike i actually had stuff to talk about. these are just okay. like yep okay it’s fine. there’s nothing wrong with it. i like the flag shoulder stripes. but yeah, it’s just there. i’ve forgotten what it looks like already i’m that bored - 6/10

the away kit is exactly the same. to be fair, i do like the asymmetric colour scheme, that’s quite nice. it’s simple, it’s clean, it’s just the italian flag really isn’t it? the collar is nice in fairness. it’s decent. - 7/10

Wow. Mexico. Holy fucking shit. Wow.

i literally am so in love with this kit that i’m lost for words. just everything about this is so stunning that i’m struggling to believe it’s a real adidas kit and not a fan made one from tiktok. this pattern has so much going on yet without being garish or busy, it just works. the colours go together so well, i’m just sat here staring at it with tears in my eyes. it’s art. i love it so much thank you mexico thank you - 11/10

and it just gets better with the away kit? this is so fucking sexy, so clean. it complements the home kit perfectly. it’s such a fun pattern but it’s also so classy, so beautiful. both of these kits invoke mexico without being either stereotypical or same-old same-old. i just love it. i love when kits are different!! more please, everyone else take notes!! - 10/10

Colombia took me a while but I’m actually a fan

i hated this at first because i thought it was just a plain boring yellow kit but then i saw those sexy ombre side panels. i just love red orange yellow colour schemes, like yes they hurt my eyes but it’s just such a sexy combination. fire for real. the yellow prevents it from getting top marks bc yellow is just fugly let’s be real, but overall it’s not bad - 7/10

now, you guys now i feel about black kits. more please!!! black is always sleek, it’s always classy, it’s always cool as fuck! big fan. this also seems abnormally shiny, which like okay serve i guess? the only thing i will say is it’s giving training kits with the orange highlights, but we can’t all be mexico, can we? - 8/10

Peru couldn’t be fucked and resorted to clip art

this home kit is like the definition of couldn’t be arsed. i could’ve done this on microsoft paint. i actually hate sash kits they’re just so fucking boring, and like, they just don’t look that good do they. boring. - 4/10

the away on the other hand? wow wow. this is what colombia wishes it was. this is a sexy fucking black kit, and pairing it with dark red and gold? oh lord yes please. sexy as fuck, plus a cheeky bit of animal print? okayyyy get it. even those little bits at the side that adidas seem obsessed with this year are sexy. it’s reminding me of a cheeky little leg slit in a cheeky little dress, and then you get a cheeky little glimpse of some cheeky little red zebra print thongs. okay word. peru you cheeky little minx, stop teasing me. - 9/10

Chile stayed solid, and you can’t go wrong with that.

these are both just nice kits. the home is classy, it’s just a simple white kit but it looks fresh as hell, and the red swoops look so good. also love that the patterning they’ve used on the red matches the away kit. it’s very simple but it’s clearly thought out and i respect that. they saw the others going ham with crazy patterns and stuck to their guns. it just looks nice. - 7/10

the away is a similar story - nothing flashy, but effortlessly nice. i rate the little pixel pattern, it’s simple but it’s nice. it’s a decent kit. could’ve pushed the boat out a tiny bit more but overall it’s fine. it’s giving national league a tiny bit. respect chile - 7/10

Finally, you can always count on Argentina to serve.

The home kit is just pure argentina innit? like there’s no way you see this kit and see anything other than argentina, and i respect that. it’s just a classic! it’s clean it’s crisp, we’ve seen it all before, but listen, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. can’t go wrong. also i’m a huge believer that gold should only be permitted on a kit if you’ve won something, and so mad respect for these sexy gold highlights.- 8/10

and the away kit? i’m a huge fan. it’s a nice simple kit, they’ve gone for a new shade of blue and it’s pretty sexy. the collar looks so fit here, i love it. what i love the most though, is how they’ve incorporated the usual kit into the swoopy bits? (that’s their official name now i’ve decided). anyway those blue and white stripes just look so yummy, very nautical, i’m a big fan. yay argentina! - 9/10