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punkpandapatrixk · 4 months

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Full Beaver Moon in Gemini ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

(I’m ultra-sorry for this PAC being ultra-late!! I’ve been in deep, intense spiritual rehab🙏🏻Also, y’all have NO idea how much psychotic psychic ‘opposition’ I was fighting to get through with this PAC! It was plain insanity at this point. If you’ve found this PAC and you resonate, please, PLEASE, take care of your spiritual wellbeing and amp up your psychic protection for next year!)

☆♪°・.

Collectively speaking, the whole of Mankind is being prepared for a massive transformation that, hopefully, will lead to real, lasting harmony and prosperity. It is high time Mankind grew up and learnt to be responsible for the choices it makes in regards to co-Creation with the Universe. Where attention goes, aenergy goes, right?

Every man’s priority and perspective hold the power to shape—and reshape—Reality. For realz. For we are all part of that same fabric of Reality, we are constantly, with each other, co-Creating various spectrum of experiences that affect each other’s wellbeing. It’s inevitable. Your attention is what gives power to the Matrix. If you want to beat the System, you need to learn its mechanism and ultimately, stop giving your attention to Reality creation that doesn’t serve the highest good of all of Mankind.

Full Beaver Moon was on November 27. Its effects can still be felt by most peeps until at least April Fool’s next year (funny). This full moon is second to last before this year’s final Full Cold Moon on December 26, which will be in Cancer; and so the meaning of this Beaver Moon is for us to gather as much resource as possible before the cold winter.

For this Beaver Moon is in Gemini—the sign of thinking and learning—this implies gathering info, perspective, knowledge, intel as much as possible for us to study and digest all throughout winter. Sounds funny but trust me this will be SO relevant by spring next year. The aenergy I’m tapping into is super intense as the whole of Mankind is being ushered into a phase of rapid growing pains that will affect societies on a global scale.

Death of an old paradigm. Death of the 3D Self. It’s all happening. If you identify as a Lightworker or a Starseed, the message you find here could potentially be more relevant to you than most other peeps you know in your circle. You’re in gestation mode. Get ready because spring might be…weird?

It’s high time Mankind learnt to be responsible for its real power of co-Creation. Those who are more spiritually attuned have always had a craving for a freer, more authentic existence. Use this time to rest your heart, your mind, your soul, and let your Higher Self show you the way towards new avenues and grounds for things and pursuits you’ve always felt a calling to.

Even your weirdest hobbies and interests are no coincidence, hon. 2024 will probably not allow anyone to have a stagnant time—for better or worse… But you? You’re going to have a blast! I just know it🥂

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Spread Your Wings and Fly Away

resource – 3 of Pentacles

I hope you acknowledge just how resourceful you are as a person. On top of that, you’re naturally courageous. If you feel like you’re not that brave, it must’ve been your environment and the people you’ve met that have dimmed that fire in you. It is now time to reclaim your authentic voice. And you need to begin with acknowledging just how much your environment is stifling your creativity and/or originality. It is only by understanding the patterns that have shaped the way you view yourself can you then unravel that false perception that, you could say, was imposed on you.

Don’t kill your inner child to please the adults around you—no matter who these adults may be (they could be your peers if you’re already an adult yourself). When you were born into this world you carried seeds of courage, creativity and invention. All of these are such precious gifts for Mankind. You were supposed to develop yourself as one of the new builders of New Earth. You may have forgotten the minute details of your blueprint, but I know that you know it in your heart of hearts that this is the truth of your reason for being born :D

recollection – XVII The Star

You’re literally the only Pile that’s gotten a Major Arcana. Surely you know you’re a Starseed? :D If you don’t, you soon will. Perhaps your parents know something about the ‘waves of volunteers’ that was quite a topic back in the 60s or 70s? (I’m not duper sure about the timeline lol) At any rate, you have a great destiny ahead of you and it is imperative that you acknowledge this of yourself first before you’re launched into initiation*. What’s that about, you ask?

Many of your latent talents that may still be offline right now will gradually be uncovered for you. Throughout 2024, I’m sure you will experience many awakenings of sort that will propel you into remembering bits and pieces of talents you had acquired in other lifetimes. All of these gifts, are your gifts to Humanity. There is a divine reason why you’ve had to work so hard for your own personal transformation before you could assist others in helping themselves transform their paradigm. OK?

respite – 10 of Cups Rx

It is rather common for Starseeds to feel like the family they were born into, isn’t the family they belong to. Many Starseeds even find themselves look quite visibly physically different from the rest of their family. There’s just something there that seems to act as a bridge between your entire existence and theirs. You don’t think the same way; your moralities totally clash; the essences of your values are worlds apart; and so on. You’re right, these people aren’t the people you’re meant to call ‘family’. Their only purpose is to show you how ‘crazy’ develops in people, all for you to learn to navigate it and put an end to generational curses on Planet Earth. And thus it begins at ‘home’.

I have a feeling that for many of you reading this, there is an elder in your family—a much older elder—whom you could actually talk to, who would be able to share information about circumstances surrounding your birth or the bloodline you are born into. In another scenario, this person may not be older but simply possesses immense knowledge pertaining to your raison d’etre or even Life Purpose. In yet another scenario, it may not necessarily be a family member but rather, a teacher, a divine someone you meet serendipitously, or some random-ass wise Boomer you watch on YouTube who holds ideas and perspectives that make you feel seen and validated.

The period from this Full Beaver Moon until at least April next year may involve a lot of healthy grieving. Let yourself feel those emotions and feel Human. You deserve a safe space to be yourself and see all your dreams manifest. You’ve got this, OK? One day you will be serving the Light by sharing your stories😊

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

*I’ve included further technical interpretations of what this ‘initiation’ means for Lightworkers and Starseeds in the bonus content🐛

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Where Have You Come From and Where Are You Going, Dear Traveller?

resource – 7 of Cups Rx

In your childhood, I feel like you were forced to grow up faster than your peers. Your environment was not exactly friendly to the dreams and imaginations of a child. So you grew up to become practical, pragmatic and responsible rather quickly. But it was really hard to grow up like that because you, the real you, are a visionary. A visionary is someone who has many dreams and wild ideas, and in the right environment, a quality like that would’ve been much, much more celebrated! In the wrong environment, a dreaminess such as that is stifled.

This FM in Gemini invites you to revisit this dreaminess of yours because in your imaginations and daydreams lies the map of your Soul. Where have you come from and where are you going, dear visionary? Understanding your place in the world helps you gain insight about your Life Purpose, so to speak. What gifts have you brought into this world to share with Humanity? What challenges have you come face to face that have shaped your unique skills and perceptions?

recollection – 6 of Cups

Your home environment, your family and society have shaped the person that you are. It is important to understand your ‘roots’, kinda, so you know your strengths and weaknesses when standing in the midst of society. The rich kid from the upper echelons of society will possess skills and knowledge the poor kid from the hood wasn’t fed with. But likewise, the poor kid from the hood will possess perspectives and street smarts that are very unique in comparison to the shielded experiences of most privileged kids. Something like that.

One is not necessarily superior to the other. It’s mostly about understanding where you’ve come from and where these experiences, skills and perspectives could get you. Know your own uniqueness and use that to serve Humanity as you use that to take care of yourself and those you care about. A true sense of success can only come from being useful to other people, for the most part…unless you’re a psychopath XD

respite – King of Pentacles

You have so many natural talents that could make you money, that much I’d like to reaffirm. But more importantly than money, it’s that you have such a strong penchant for true leadership. If you work with your Throat chakra, you could become a very appealing public speaker. You could convince people to join your causes. But to become a true leader of the new world, you must possess good morality, so don’t forget to take care of your Solar Plexus and Heart chakras, so you don’t fall into the trapping of manipulation through speech.

Honestly, I think you are such a good person in spite of all the mental/psychological hardships you’ve had to grow up with. Calm your nerves down and enjoy slow moments with, idk, camomile tea or lavender bath, every now and then? Relaxation practices like breathing meditation, or even just fixing your sleeping pattern/schedule, could help you get in touch with your inner child again and I feel that this is something that will be important for you throughout this winter☃️Everything about your Life will become a lot clearer by spring, trust that😉

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Let the Past Die and Live on For Your Soul Tribes

resource – 3 of Cups

Honey, it’s time for you to rejoice. You’ve been through so much disappointment, so much heartbreak, and people have betrayed and abandoned you, and you’ve come through nevertheless. Surely that deserves some kind of karmic reward? Your Spirit Guides, your Soul Family, are applauding you for all you’ve been through. I think you’ve worked hard on yourself. Releasing yourself from past pains, distancing yourself—to the best of your ability—from toxic people and environments, and you’re about ready to serve your Dharmic Purpose.

I know many of you reading this will resonate with having worked on transmuting a lot of generational karma, but plenty of you tapping into this reading have even worked on transmuting geological karma and curses. The geographical location you were born into or the race you were born into, collectively speaking these kinds of things also carry generational curses based on terrible things that have happened on that location. I’d like you to know that you’ve done so much just by existing! You are the magic, the miracle that you’ve been hoping to see in the world🐣

recollection – Page of Pentacles

You’re an individual of many talents, but I’m sure there’s like 2 or 3 things you’re INSANELY good at. Do you know what they are? If you focus all of your aenergy on just these few main talents, you will literally shift your whole Reality to a much higher bandwidth! Try it. By focusing on just these few main pursuits, I sense you will be attracting your Soul Tribes at a much faster rate. I’m seeing these pulsating energetic vortexes that represent you and your Soul Tribes currently incarnate on Earth. These vortexes are spinning and expanding so rapidly that you and your Soul Tribes are magnetising each other into your morphogenetic fields—essentially, your Realities.

You and your Soul Tribes literally have unique missions on Earth and when you meet and collab, everything is going to make sense for you. These seemingly different groups of people are doing things (or exist in industries) that are similar to your own interests and visions for the world. I sense you may have felt a calling to be part of a certain industry and you’ve been studying and preparing yourself for that. ATTENTION! THIS. IS. NOT. RANDOM. You are being manifested by that industry if anything LMAO You have a place there so keep going!🌾

respite – 2 of Cups Rx

With all of that said, let this reading be your confirmation that you can make the choice to die to everyone and everything that doesn’t align with this vision in your mind that you know comes from your Soul. Be a ghost. Hustle in quiet. Don’t spill the beans until they are ready for planting. And when you plant, plant with your Soul Family and not those who are only pretending to be there for you so they can take advantage of you later!

Connections with your real Soul Tribes are going to feel effortlessly uplifting on top of being respectful of boundaries. Interactions and exchanges with your real Soul Tribes are never going to make you feel icky. Trust your gut instinct when you feel that someone you’ve come to trust is probably manipulating you with kind or sweet words imbued with some dishonourable intent. You’re probably right but let’s not take chances; you’ve had enough, so keep your brains about you, too. Best to use this time to build—or rebuild—your world of everything that makes Life worth living🎂

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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cowboyfromh3ll · 6 months

Note

The reader joins the VDL gang with Micah, and is in a relationship with him, but as we know, Micah is shit. Period.

One night, after a terrible argument that ended with Micah hitting her and stomping off, the reader takes a moment by herself outside of camp just as Arthur is returning.

Concerned, he asks her if she's okay, and after a moment of thought, she revenge fucks him outside of camp.

Arthur doesn't fight it, especially since its micah that he's wronging.

Not Allowed

(Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut)

Since this anon stepped forward and revealed themselves I kept true. Also this was literally so fun to write. Don't judge me but I sorta have a thing for writing infidelity... It's just so fun and exhilarating to write no matter how wrong it is

Warnings: Man on woman violence, mentions of abuse, implied SA, smut, infidelity

Micah’s affinity for gender roles meant he hated women smoking, especially his girlfriend. He’d claim there was nothing more masculine than puffing on a smoke after a robbery well done, but after sex, he’d consent to just about anything. And if Micah had touched you for an extended amount of time, you usually needed half a pack to calm down.

He’d given you a cheerful spank along with a sly wink; you refrained from shuddering because of it. There’d been a time in your life where you told yourself you’d never have sex, much less date, a man with so much sleaze. You had never imagined yourself in a gang in the first place, but being Micah’s girl naturally meant assimilating to the lifestyle he lived. As the relationship progressed you seemed to gain more reasons to lean into your new found family, and more reasons to be repulsed by the man who called you his.

“Damn darling,” He lit his own cigarette, sitting on the corner of your shared bed. “You should give it up more often.” He slapped a hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down your bare flesh; his touch was comparable to grating your skin with sandpaper. “It’s part of a woman’s job to please her man.” He added finally, blowing smoke into the air of the tent. With your combined cigarettes, the tent acquired a gray smog; symbolic of the way you felt around him.

You forced a smile at Micah, though it came off as unnatural and more as sarcastic. You’d felt like you’d been mauled superficially, your limbs aching with the knowledge that this man had just touched you. Whenever it came time for you to come face to face with your inescapable duties in the bedroom, you thoroughly and sufficiently got yourself drunk, downing bottle after bottle of liquor. Your inebriated state somehow made the acts more bearable. Did it ever register with Micah that your body was often drifting in and out of consciousness? By the time you two finished, the room felt like it was spinning around you, and having to excuse yourself to vomit outside of camp— both from alcohol consumption and from sheer disgust —afforded you a moment of temporary relief from the plague that awaited you back at your shared tent.

“When I tell you no, I’m just amping up the anticipation for the next time.” You forced a wide smile that showed an unnatural amount of teeth; you looked as though you were trying to do an impression of an overly enthusiastic ringmaster. Micah saw through your tired facade, narrowing his eyes at you. You looked back at him expressionless now, and took a long drag of your cigarette, part of you not caring if he saw through you or not.

“You’re a real stuck-up bitch, y’know that.” He said, turning to face you better on the cot. You didn’t offer much of a reaction, merely rolling your eyes in response; you were used to the insults. You ashed your cigarette, tapping the butt with your pointer and allowing the ash to fall on the bed sheets near Micah. This seemed to enrage him, causing him to grip your wrist, the same one that held onto the cigarette. Had you been in a safer and less closed off environment, you would’ve pressed the end of the cigarette into his wrist to get his vile hand off of you.

“I bring you into this life, offer you money and gifts, protect you, and you can’t even let me touch you? What, so you think you’re better than me?” He hissed, looking at you with contempt. You looked back with a blank expression, far better than giving him any sort of facial reaction. You simply sighed and looked off to the side.

“You’re ice cold for weeks, you barely look me in the eye, you only talk to me when I talk to you. Do you know how insane that is? Sometimes it’s like you’re not even there.” He yanked your wrist, causing a decent amount of ash to flick from the cigarette that had begun burning closer and closer towards the filter; symbolic of his and yours patience. So he had noticed your bouts of comatose, and continued to have his way with you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your gaze flickered back towards him, your eyes holding a blatant sense of disinterest. He looked back at you, a growing rage present in his face. You attempted to yank your wrist back. You weren’t particularly desensitized to Micah’s streak of using violence on you, but you had certainly learned when to mentally prepare. The use of some form of applied force— a gripping of your wrist when he wanted to get a point across, a frim squeezing of your thighs or breasts when you said no too many nights in a row —often coincided with some type of violence.

He squeezed your wrist until he felt bones shift, yanking you forward in the process.

“Micah, stop—” Your voice trembled with evident disgust and fear. “You’re hurting me, stop acting like a goddamn idiot.” You attempted to yank your wrist back. “God why do you always have to make everything about you!” You yelled.

At this point Micah had pulled you into a standing position, squeezing your wrist hard enough that it made your body begin to crumble from the pain.

“Do you know what a mindfuck you are? Now start acting like a goddamn woman should!” While holding your wrist he struck you across the face with the back of his hand, to which you yelled out from. You dug the nails from your free hand into his arm and dragged down, blossoming ribbons of red following in their wake, creating open blinds of flesh that would allow anyone to look into your abhorrent relationship.

Seemingly satisfied with his abuse of you, he let your aching wrist go. You only had time to yank the bed sheet off the cot, wrapping it around your body before storming out the tent.

“Yeah that’s right, leave the fucking tent and prove my goddamn point!” He yelled from behind you, a self satisfied laugh leaving him in raspy heaves.

“Fuck you, Micah!” You yelled in return, briefly turning to look back at him and flipping him off. You felt incredibly exposed as you ventured into the woods surrounding camp. You began to tremble, cursing to yourself under your breath as you tried to hold back your tears. You inhaled deep breaths, tightening the blanket around your shaking form; you wished you had a cigarette to calm you.

You stared into the pitch black woods surrounding you, scarcely illuminated by fire flies. You found solace in the solitude the woods provided you. You brought a hand up to your aching cheek, cursing to yourself once more at the memory of Micah striking you.

Your solitude was short lived as you observed Arthur returning to camp on horseback, and you mumbled to yourself how you should’ve at least properly dressed yourself up before leaving your tent. He spotted you leaning against a tree, offering you a warm smile.

“Evening, (Name).” He nodded at you as he dismounted his horse and tied it to a post. You did not give him your usual greeting, instead sniffling as you tried to collect yourself. The sound made his head snap up to face you, concern evident on his features as he approached you. He squinted his eyes in the darkness, making out the tears streaking your face and the red flushness of your bruising cheek.

“(Name), are you okay? What happened?” He asked. He hesitantly raised his hand to cup your cheek, but decided on hovering his hand when he remembered it was not his place to be touching you so intimately. He decided not to comment on your scant clothing, finding it too crass.

Being asked of your current emotional state seemed to be a trigger, because you instantly broke into more tears. Your shoulders began in a series of pitiful hiccups and sniffles, which made Arthur abandon all resolve as he pulled you into his chest for a gentle hug. His soothing hands began to remedy your melancholy as his thumbs rubbed calming circles on the downy skin between your shoulder blades. You held your hands up on your chest not to push him away, but to keep the blanket up against your body.

“It’s just Micah…” Your words slurred in between cries. “Just being an asshole. He hit me again.” You shook your head, speaking of the situation in passing dismissively much to Arthur’s horror. His expression hardened when he realized it was a regular occurrence, feeling ashamed for not being able to do something about it before.

“(Name), I’m so sorry… Do you want me to do something? I swear to god—”

You began shaking your head, craning your neck to look up at him. “No, it’s okay Arthur. You don’t need to do anything to him.” Arthur swallowed any protests he might’ve had, deciding to leave it for your comfort. He figured he might do something for you, but did not want to force you to come up with any solutions in a time where you needed a moment to feel.

You wrapped an arm around Arthur, allowing the blanket covering your body to be held up only by the pressing of your bodies up against each other. You looked at him with advantageous eyes, just subtly hinting at what you wanted. You caught Arthur’s eyes flickering down towards your increasingly exposed breasts, your cleavage forming from being pushed up against him; he nearly felt your hardened nipples through his button up. You gripped the shoulders of his shirt, pulling the fabric in a way that made the blanket fall ever more slightly.

“(Name)... Micah might see us like this, what will he think—”

“I don’t give a damn what he thinks.” You announced. Arthur could nearly smell the pulsing, fragrant pheromones coming from your wetness; just one layer of fabric away beneath the blanket. You not-so-subtly pushed up against him, ironing your pelvic bone across the increasingly erect heat inside his jeans. He let out a strained deep breath from the pressure, subconsciously pushing back into you.

Arthur looked back at camp, where your tent remained illuminated. The canvas drapery outlined Micah's body in a shadow illuminated by the oil lamp inside. Micah seemed to be hunched over his bed, smoking another cigarette in deep contemplation. As if to draw his attention back towards you, you began grinding deeper into Arthur, the fabric of the blanket snagging against his belt buckle and bunching up there.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" He asked, offering a moment of clarity to your otherwise libidinous state.

"More sure than I've ever been about anything." The implications of your declaration suggested there was a long period of your life where you were uncertain about your relationship with Micah and having ever been with him at all; even before the abuse ever started.

"Do you want to go somewhere more private?" A smirk decorated his face, showing his total willingness to do this with you. You shook your head no.

"Nah, the possibility of him walking out here and seeing us is exhilarating." You giggled, gripping the collar of his shirt now. You pulled him down gently so your lips could meet, a tenderness underlining the otherwise ravenous exchange. Arthur's arms wrapped around your waist; your own around his wide set shoulders as the blanket fell open down the middle to expose your bare body, scarcely hanging onto the rest of you by the sides.

He lifted the blanket just barely above your ass, snaking his hands underneath to grip your bare flesh. He thoughtfully rubbed and palmed at your ass and thighs, expertly kissing you in return; a stark contrast to the way Micah greedily devoured your face. He slid his tongue against your palate, causing a shiver to wrack up your spine. Before long his deft fingers slid to the inner part of your ass, where he used his finger tips to spread your pussy apart, idly rubbing your weeping hole and spreading the wetness.

You groaned into his ear, coaxing him on, encouraging him as he dipped two fingers inside you. He fingered you shallowly as if he were still hesitant to do this with you; as if fully penetrating you with his fingers were the last line he could cross before the act of infidelity was fully sealed and done. You leaned up and licked the shell of his ear, moaning into him as he leisurely played with your hole. You hiked your leg up to his hip, giving him better access as you spread your legs open.

“God, just fuck me, Morgan!” You demanded, perhaps a bit too loudly; but you did not mind, if Micah heard it’d save you a lot of pain. You took Arthur’s wrist, slipping a third finger inside you and pushing his hand in until his palm was flush against your pussy. He took the cue and began vigorously fingering your pussy, the squelching sounds accompanying the backdrop of crickets chirping. You began bouncing your hips on his fingers, letting out a loud string of moans before he shoved two fingers into your mouth to silence you. You let out deep guttural moans from within your chest, feeling far more erotic now that the blanket has slipped completely off of you and was merely hanging on by the junction of Arthur's forearm slipping under your thigh and fingering you. Your pert nipples rubbed on the fabric of Arthur's shirt, providing you some form of stimulation along with him fingering you. He curled all three digits inside you, putting the full force of his wrist as he fucked you with his hand.

"I can't wait to be fucked by you…" you hissed into his ear, followed by a moan. You gripped his stiff cock through his jeans and squeezed the appendage, stroking and rubbing him up and down. "Can't wait to have this big cock inside me…" you shuddered at the thought, your own words causing Arthur to whimper.

Arthur pulled his fingers out of you, aware that it probably wouldn't be enough to make you cum. He raised them to view as you both watched, spreading them apart and watching the way your wetness spread between his fingers in thick strings. You watched in pleasant surprise as he stuck his fingers inside his mouth, sucking them clean and moaning in pleasure.

"Alright my turn." You purred. You lowered your leg from his hip, letting the blanket fully drop and exposing yourself completely to him. For a moment he ran his hand up your side, squeezing your breast and pulling on your nipples. You dropped to your knees before him, his expression one of surprise and uneasiness. You came face to face with the outline of his cock, licking your lips as you traced the outline down his leg.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do this. We can just get to it."

You nodded your head, his concern laden statement making you feel touched. Usually when you had sex with Micah, he'd beg you to fellate him so much so that it sounded like he was ordering you to.

"Yeah, I wanna blow you. Having you in my mouth makes it even better." You lifted your knees and rested your weight on the balls of your feet. Arthur watched with satisfaction as you undid his belt, just barely managing to undo his zipper and button in your impatience. You dug into his pants and pulled his cock out. You held it up with both hands, swaying it slightly in the air as you studied it meticulously. You pulled back his foreskin, rubbing your fingers all over the skin before spitting a fat glob of saliva on his flush head. His cock seemed to be a gradient of pale skin to flushed pink the closer you got to his tip. You used one hand to spread the saliva and stroke him up and down, hearing faint gasps from above you.

He allowed you to take your sweet time, hypnotized by the way you kissed his tip before sliding your lips over his mouth. You began sucking instantly, swirling your tongue on it. You lowered your head until a gag tugged at the back of your throat, stroking what you could not with your hand. Arthur assisted you by bunching your hair up, moaning lowly as his eyes slid shut for a moment. You sucked harshly, your throat constricting around him each time you swallowed a gag. Your slurps were loud, hard to miss by anyone who happened to walk past. Though Arthur did a good job of staking the surrounding area out so you wouldn't be caught by anyone else; besides Micah of course.

You were throbbing in-between your legs, probably dripping onto the floor beneath you. Your jaw and lips ached, and you eventually pulled off of Arthur's cock and looked up at him. Your swollen lips were pouting.

"My jaws tired, sorry." You apologized, but he shook his head.

"S'alright sweetheart. You don't gotta make me finish with your mouth." He reassured you by lifting you to your feet and kissed you on the forehead. Of all the acts Arthur had done that night thus far, he felt as if that small tender gesture of affection was the boldest thing he had done. You smiled widely at him, feeling a sentimental sense of affection for him.

As though he were a gentleman helping you onto a horse, he took your hand as he wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted you up. You clenched your thighs around his waist, shifting and moving around until you felt him align with your cunt.

He continues to hold your hand, squeezing it as you sunk down onto his cock. You both sighed in unison from the sheer pleasure. Arthur was struggling to keep quiet; the feeling of your tight, warm cunt swallowing and wrapping around his cock was breathtakingly good. It felt as though Arthur was scratching an itch deep within you.

Arthur moved your body up and down, treating your body like a ragdoll he could fuck but never making you feel like one. He kissed your knuckles repeatedly as you tried to contain your moans. The passion behind his thrusts were symbolic of all the time he's wanted to do this. All the time he spent longing for you, now communicated to you through his desperate movements.

His thrusts increased in force; much deeper and intentional compared to his earlier hesitance to even finger you. With each thrust, he forced another high pitched squeal out of you. The wet plap of skin on skin caused goose bumps to ripple through your body. Before long, your orgasm hit you with unexpected force. Your body shuddered as you let out an unexpectedly loud moan, one that would certainly draw questions towards your whereabouts later on.

Arthur's thrusts became increasingly desperate, struggling to form a sentence. He shakily asked "where should I finish?" To which you insisted he cum inside you. The thought alone made him moan loudly, finishing inside you as a triumphant smile spread across his face. He had done it. He had finally done it. He had wronged Micah in the most intimate way possible, while also fulfilling one of his greatest desires. Killing two birds with one stone.

The two of you stood there panting for a moment, before he helped you onto your feet. He continued holding your hand as he crouched down to retrieve your blanket for you; tenderly wrapping it around your shoulders. The two of you smiled at each other before mutually leaning forward and kissing. The kiss was far more tender and sweet, a subtle declaration of love.

"Thank you." you giggled.

"Anything for you." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. The urge to exchange small kisses was insatiable, and the two of you remained there doing so for a few more minutes. You noticed the light in your tent had gone out already, and you smirked at the thought of Micah having knowledge of what had just happened.

"You gonna be alright for the night sweetheart?" He asked, motioning towards the rent. You nodded. "I'll be on standby just in case."

"Yeah, but who knows, maybe I'll go visit you later tonight." You winked playfully as you walked off towards your tent, silently opening the flaps and disappearing inside. How Arthur wished it was his tent you were walking inside. How often he looked at you on Micah’s arm and wished it was him holding you. Though there was clearly something between you, and part of him suspected it wasn’t just by chance that he came into camp at the right time; that this was something that was meant to happen. He hoped it would mean you could be more than just friends.

Not Allowed - TV Girl

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption 2 x reader #writing #van der linde gang x reader #red dead fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader smut #arthur morgan smut

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bi-disaster-yn · 2 years

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Take on Me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!Reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve busts a move to his favourite song to a very impressed audience including his boyfriend and girlfriend.

A/N: I physically cannot listen to this song without picturing Steve singing/dancing to it like a big dork. It’s my personal headcanon that this is his favourite song.

The thing about Steve Harrington is that he never really knows that he is good at something until it is thrust upon him.

If he hadn’t been forced into situations where he had to babysit, fight monsters, escape Russians, or take on a leadership role then the world simply would never have known just how good he was at all of those things. It’s not like he would have volunteered to do any of them. Except, being in a relationship with you and Eddie. He certainly was not forced into that, but it was not something that he ever anticipated he’d be very good at all the same.

Hence, when Robin proposed a ‘Fuck Vecna Party’, where the group all sat round and jammed out to the songs that would save them from Vecna’s curse; Steve didn’t exactly sign up to show his song off first.

On the other hand, Eddie was a natural performer.

This party was the type of environment that he thrived in. In fact, he didn’t even bring a tape. He went all out by bringing his electric guitar and an amp so he could give you all a performance of Master of Puppets that only Dustin had the benefit of viewing during the battle with Vecna.

So, there you all were, in Steve’s garden while Eddie gave a stadium-level concert performance. You sat on a sun lounger with your back against Steve’s chest as he ran his fingertips soothingly up and down your arm, both cheering Eddie on.

Maybe it was the domineering stance that Eddie held while he played or maybe it was the fact that he executed the guitar solo perfectly, but everything about him when he performed exuded confidence.

It was something Steve had always admired about his boyfriend. Eddie had every right to be self-assured when doing what he loved like playing music or constructing campaigns for D&D. However, it did strike him that you might begin to wish that Steve could be more like that too.

When Eddie’s solo was over, he was met with a grand applause from everyone around him. He took a dramatic bow, stretching his arms out wide at each side. Looking up, he was met with yours and Steve’s eyes of adoration to which he responded with a wink. It was like having his own personal groupies.

“Okay, Stevie,” Eddie smiled flirtatiously. “You’re up, big boy. Show us what you’ve got… not too much though, save that for me and our girl for later.” He winked at you and you playfully rolled your eyes, pretending to be completely unimpressed but loving every second of it.

Steve let out a sigh and immediately sunk further into the lounger. You could feel the reluctance that consumed his body as though he was hoping that the ground would swallow him whole.

“Surely, it’s gotta be someone else’s turn.” Steve offered nervously, looking round at everyone as he sent out a divine appeal to them to take his place. He had hosted the party, the least one of his guests could do was take the fall for him in this silly charade.

“No,” you giggled, having already had quite a lot to drink. “It’s definitely your turn, the rest of us have already shown ours.”

Steve took a painful sounding gulp and slowly manoeuvred himself from behind you off the sun lounger. Eddie quickly took his place, snaking his arms round your waist and pulling you close to his chest with a “c’mere, sweetheart.”

Steve’s palms were clammy as he wiped them down his jeans. He approached Robin who was guarding the tapes and the boombox and it was confirmed that you were right, it was only his tape left.

Sighing, he picked up the copy of A-Ha’s Take On Me and handed it to Robin to set up. He closed his eyes and tried to remember Eddie’s ramblings about how he usually pictures his audience naked to shake the nerves. Although Steve was sure that if he pictured you and Eddie naked then he’d probably get very hard and that would make this whole humiliating ordeal ten times worse.

Suddenly, he felt familiar hands cup his face and a chaste kiss was pressed upon his lips. When he opened his eyes, it was you standing in front of him in your inspiring angelic glory.

“Just dance to it the way you dance when you think you’re home alone.” You advised a now blushing Steve who was bashful after receiving a kiss.

“Oh, and don’t do what Eddie does and picture people naked. He’s just a bit of a perv like that.” You giggled, giving him another kiss on the cheek and made your way back over to Eddie.

It was in that moment that Steve realised that you didn’t need him to be like Eddie. You already had one of him, you didn’t need another. You needed Steve the hero, the babysitter, the sweetheart. All of the things he had come to be good at by happenstance rather than Eddie who was good at things because he regularly threw caution to the wind.

The realisation gave Steve a new lease of life. When Robin asked if he was ready, he responded with finger guns and took his spot at the makeshift stage next to the pool.

As soon as that catchy beat started, Steve lost all of his inhibitions. His foot tapped in time with the music and he extended his arm to point round at everyone, putting his free hand on his hip in true Steve Harrington fashion.

“We’re talking away. I, no, I don’t know what I’m to say. I’ll say it anyway.” Steve started to sing and everyone was taken aback by the vigour he put into the song.

Sure, his tone was pitchy but so was everyone else’s at that party. He kicked his heel fervently off the ground as he stood rooted in his spot, closing his eyes to block out his audience and continue with his performance.

“Today is another day to find you. Shying away. Oh, I’ll be coming for your love, okay?”

No one was cheering as loud as you and Eddie were, quickly getting up from the sun lounger to give your boyfriend a standing ovation. Eddie cupped his hands against his mouth and roared in encouragement. Next to him, you danced along to the music so Steve didn’t have to do this on his own.

Watching the two of you support him sent another shot of confidence through Steve. He balled his fist to create the charade of holding a microphone and sang even louder into it.

“Take on me, take on me. Take me on, take on me. I’ll be gone. In a day or two.”

At this, Steve was fully invested in the song as he moved in tandem with it, throwing his limbs around while still holding the invisible microphone. You had been right; the key was to dance to it like no one was watching. When he believed himself to be home alone, the way he danced to this song required the same energy of that of a cardio workout which he channelled into this display.

That was the thing, this song inspired something in him. It occurred to him that there was something quite profound about this song (which he can do a killer rendition of in the shower) that could save him from the evil that was Vecna.

“So needless to say, I’m odds and ends. But I’ll be stumbling away. Slowly learning that life is okay. Say after me. Oh, it’s no better to be safe than sorry.”

There was no stopping him now as he moved from his one spot on the floor to jump on a sun lounger to elevate his performance to the next level.

“Take on me, take on me. Take me on, take on me. I’ll be gone. In a day or twooooooooooooo!”

Eddie took off his t-shirt and raised it to swing it above his head as he screamed out a “yes!”, watching his boyfriend go. You raised your own hands above your head and hollered as if you were seeing A-Ha in concert. To be honest, watching Steve like this was better.

Everyone else got on their feet in support of Steve, unlike they had done for anyone else who had performed that night. Dustin looked up at Steve in complete awe which earned a ruffle through his curls from Eddie, who then proceeded to get his lighter up and hold it up and sing along. Eddie wasn’t one for popular music but he loved this song because of the cheerful look it inspired on Steve’s face whenever it was played. Hence, the metalhead knew every single word.

Steve’s dancing was uncoordinated but fun as he continued to sing, stomping his feet off the sun lounger with so much ferocity it almost broke. As soon as he reached the line “I’ll be coming for you anyway,” he jumped off the lounger and grabbed your hands to pull you into a dance with him.

Laughing, you threw your head back and let Steve shimmy the both of you with whatever rhythm he could muster. Still singing, he looked at your kind and smiling face which was all of the encouragement he needed to finish the song.

Both of you locked eye contact and you finished off the song together. He took your hand and spun you around a few times before your arms found their way round his neck. He planted his hands on your waist as you two-stepped from side to side.

“Take on me, take on me. Take me on, take on me.”

As the tape came to a stop, Steve was met with uproarious applause from his friends. Hands patted him on the shoulder or clapped in gratitude for his fun and sweet performance.

Steve smiled sheepishly, surprised at himself for being able to pull this off but still keeping his shoulders pushed back with a newfound confidence. Eddie rushed over to greet you both, grabbing Steve’s face in his hands and kissing all over his face.

“Are you kidding me?! Stevie, that was so metal!” Eddie exclaimed excitedly, putting his arms around the two of you while yours were still wrapped around Steve’s neck.

“He’s right,” you agreed with a big grin and reached up to kiss him. “I’m so proud of you.”

Steve modestly shrugged his shoulders; “What can I say? It’s a great song…and I have some great fans.”

Eddie kissed the crown of both of your heads and gave you both a squeeze, relishing in the feeling of having you both tucked into his chest.

“We’ll always be your fans, Steve.” Eddie asserted. “Always.” You agreed, smiling at your two very different boys who you couldn’t love more.

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kubrickscube · 2 years

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Numero Ekis

As always, this may or may not resonate with you for the reason being that other aspects in your chart may have tighter degrees than those mentioned in here.

➼ Besides Pisces placements, Cancer placements are often branded as “manipulative” because they always know what to say to a person. Very, VERY thin line between using it for good or for evil.

➼ Virgo + Libra placements saying “I do it for me” but the truth is "I do it for me but I will combust out of shame when they don't like what I do."

➼ Capricorn placements likes physical touch, though never point it out to them as they will recoil once noticed by people.

➼ Saturn conjunct MC is one of the hardest aspects to have, especially if you're working where the media can openly talk about you. Depending on other aspects and placements in one's chart, it can either make someone tough as hell or cave in to attacks.

➼ I don't think anyone has mentioned this, Mars and Venus in the 6th House can also be considered toxic, especially if it's in a Fixed sign.

➼ Planets transiting your 2nd House will determine not only how material things will come or go to you, but also how your “voice” will be perceived by others.

➼ Transiting Moon in conjunction with one’s natal North Node will amp an individual’s spiritual prowess. And where your North Node is placed will determine how those visions will appear to you.

➼ Mercury-Neptune people and the ability to hold a person’s hand with words.

➼ Sun-Neptune people will be looking at the wall and would say shit along the lines of “the crack adds beauty to this wall.”

Me to you because how are y’all real???

➼ Lilith-Uranus people's mindset whenever someone confronts them are always "Oh no... Anyway." And I love that for them!

➼ Sun opposite Lilith will laugh at you when they sense your anger towards them.

➼ Out of all the Fixed signs, Aquarius is the only sign that is comfortable changing their environment. Of course, it would still take 5 years to convince them other options, but it is not like convincing a Taurus to throw a beaten up shoes that they have at the age of 18.

➼ NO SIGN IS DUMB.

➼ I keep on forgetting to talk about Venus in the 6th House solely, so now I'll do that just. You know Fredo Corleone, from that movie about mafia and family? Well, he is Venus in the 6th House. Everything that he do, he does it because it makes him feel useful. It brings him satisfaction to be useful to those he loves. Venus in 6th offering their hand to help is second nature to them.

➼ I am, once again, will be speaking about Pablo Neruda. Aside from his famous poems about love, he also often speaks of his home and experiences. With a Cancer stellium in the 5th House, it's no surprise that everything that he wrote has this ability to sway one's emotions. And I think it is a great example of how Cancerians really are.

Ugh, look at that beauty. Neptune wasn't captured, but it's also in Cancer, so...

➼ In my opinion, I think Saturn in the 9th House is the easiest Saturn placement out of all, especially if the natal chart has Fire or Air placements to support the person and Saturn. I also want to add that having this placement will automatically make you a religious person. After I post this, I will make a short post about this one. If I don't get lazy...

And that's it. If you've read up until this point, hi! More importantly, thank you to those 321 people (y'all meet me at Thermopylae) who follows me here. I may not know the reason why you followed me because I only post a month here, but still thank you all so much.

As always, if you want to add something you are free to do so. You spotted something confusing or want to clarify things? You're also free to do so.

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bluestar2012 · 5 days

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Skagit Valley Clouds

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#black & white #clouds #Environment #nature #Nikon D7000 #Washington

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servants-hall · 8 months

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The Gilded Age Will Get a Lot More Operatic in Season 2

Full article copied below:

BY RICHARD LAWSON AUGUST 23, 2023

The second season of HBO’s The Gilded Age (premiering October 29) will amp up the stakes, along with the lavish production design. As we see in these first-look images and a new trailer, debuting exclusively on VF.com, the late-19th-century swells of the Upper East Side are back at it in extravagant fashion—while their maids and cooks and butlers scurry about the mansion basements attending to their own complicated intrigues.

youtube

“The whole thread of [season two] is wrapped around this story of dueling opera houses,” says executive producer David Crockett. Those houses are the Academy of Music, long the cultural destination of Manhattan’s most monied families, and the upstart Metropolitan Opera. (We, of course, know who won in the end.) “The opening nights of the 1883 season—and the first ever opening night of the Met—fell on the same night,” says Crockett. “So you have this very clear choice for all of New York society: Are you going to go the old money route, or the new money route? It’s a great engine for a classic clash.”

Bertha Russell, the new-money industrialist’s wife played with flint and mettle by Carrie Coon, lays it plain in an early episode of season two: “The opera is where society puts itself on display, where the elite meet each other and their children court each other and where the wheels of society turn.” And so we will watch those wheels turn, and wrench. As dramatized by Downton Abbey creator Julian Fellowes, The Gilded Age gives viewers the vicarious delight of swanning around opulent estates and fabulous Newport parties—as well as perhaps the slight queasiness of guilt. After all, should we really be fawning over such blithe plutocrats?

Executive producer Michael Engler, who also directs many episodes of the series, says that moral shading is a deliberate part of TheGilded Age picture, perhaps even more so in season two. “They have moral choices,” Engler says of the show’s many rich folks. “As you watch them make [those choices], that’s how you determine their moral character and value. It’s not, We love the rich and we love watching them, so we don’t really care how they act. You see what it takes and what it costs people to behave a certain way.” Season two will also expand on the first season’s glimpse of Black society in Brooklyn, the home turf of Denée Benton’s Peggy Scott, who works for a white family—among them the imperious and very old money Agnes van Rhijn (Christine Baranski) and her spinster sister, Ada (Cynthia Nixon)—while negotiating political and social matters across the river. Ada, meanwhile, may finally be getting a love interest.

Benton, Baranski, and Nixon are but three of the many New York stage luminaries who make up the cast of The Gilded Age. That the show is essentially a who’s who of Broadway stars wasn’t exactly by design; it was more an unexpected, and quite happy, development, says Engler. He remembers famed New York casting director Bernard Telsey telling him that a variety of notable names were eager to be a part of the project. “It was amazing. It was like, Really? She would play a recurring character on our show?” Those actors are natural interpreters of The Gilded Age’s tone and temperament. “Our theater people are so trained to do this kind of material—great language, complex period character work—that they just never get to do on film,” says Engler. “Even Christine Baranski. She said, ‘I’ve done period plays my whole life, but I’ve never acted in a period thing on film.’ She was just so excited about doing that. It became clear that those were the people best suited to it, and we got particularly lucky.”

With its intricate environments—careful mixes of practical sets, real locations, and digital effects—and a sprawling cast of ornately costumed characters, The Gilded Age season two promises to deliver on the period grandeur so beloved by fans. “It’s much bigger than Downton,” says Engler, a veteran of that show. How could it not be, as The Gilded Age considers a whole city, teeming with stories, burgeoning along? It’s fitting, then, that so much of season two will center on something as sweeping—and expensive—as the opera. The curtain can’t raise soon enough.

#the gilded age #tga spoilers #tga s2 #tga trailers #bertha russell #george russell #marian brook #ada brook #agnes van rhijn #peggy scott #oscar van rhijn #gladys russell

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bluiex · 1 year

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Jade you are making me FERAL for more Vex culture/courting rituals

Vex being similar to demons, in that they only appear to/work for people strong enough to summon them. They live in an entirely separate dimension usually

Vex and Illagers get along. Always have. It's rare for a Vex to leave its Invoker and even more rare for Vex to enter our world without being summoned

But for their own reasons, the Vex are venturing out. They found Scar and Cub to be suitable vessels and channeled their power through them in exchange for further cooperation

It isn't possession or servitude. It's more like a symbiotic relationship while one species tries to establish itself in the other's environment

Either way, this renders Scar and Cub half Vex and MAJORLY changes their instincts

Vex enjoy causing mischief and discord, which only amps up Scar's pranks and Cub's inventions

They get haughty, preferring to work with each other or fellow Vex than simple-minded Hermits

And as delicious as cookies and golden carrots are, it's a facade to curb their more... macabre cravings...

They nearly courted each other (and still occasionally pass romantic gestures), but it was to establish which one of them got to be the "leader." Cub overpowered Scar and won charge of planning their shenanigans

And yes, submission is HUGE in Vex culture. Offering yourself fully as a servant to higher power is how Vex have survived so long

Scar and Cub are used to obeying the Vex directly, but something about Grian's chaotic nature, aptitude for destruction, and love of pranks draws Scar to him. His Vex side sees someone with potential for power. His human side sees a handsome birdie

So he "courts" him unwittingly. Scar watches him through every battle, tries to follow him in every Life, and grows closer to him in general to see who Grian really is

Perhaps it's his natural charm or his connection to the Watchers, but Scar's Vex side deems Grian a worthy partner and falls hard. Scar turns to mush around the bird. There's no request he won't obey

He brings treasures and trinkets and stolen goods to Grian every time he sees him. He's even offered to show him where their Vex base is hidden

Meanwhile, Grian is worried he's done something awful to make Scar this eager to please. Did he make Scar feel inadequate? Not cared for? Not competent enough to be his friend?

Cub laughs at the pair. Scar is giving every "claim me" hint in the Vex book and Grian wouldn't recognize admiration if it slapped him across the face, so Cub pulls him aside one evening to explain

"Hey buddy, y'know how birds sing and fan their wings out when they wanna woo a mate?"

"...Yeah?"

"That's what Scar's doing as a Vex. He wants you to be his master."

"Okay well that's nic- wait what?"

The next several hours are Cub explaining Vex culture to a very flustered bird.

(Basically a reverse of Grian trying to woo Scar in bird XD)

-🩸

OOOH i love your thought on them being like demons. Sepreate dimension, will only be used/work for you if youre strong enough, yesyes perfect

Grian being flustered and confused about Scar wanting Grian to be his master asjkgjk

#bluie gets an ask poggers #long post

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jcmarchi · 6 months

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Robot Stand-in Mimics Your Movements in VR - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/robot-stand-in-mimics-your-movements-in-vr-technology-org/

Robot Stand-in Mimics Your Movements in VR - Technology Org

Cornell and Brown University researchers have developed a souped-up telepresence robot that responds automatically and in real time to a remote user’s movements and gestures made in virtual reality.

François Guimbretière, professor of information science in Cornell Bowers CIS, stands by the VRoxy robotic system. Image credit: Sreang Hok/Cornell University

The robotic system, called VRoxy, allows a remote user in a small space, like an office, to collaborate via VR with teammates in a much larger space. VRoxy represents the latest in remote, robotic embodiment from Cornell Ann S. Bowers College of Computing and Information Science researchers.

“The great benefit of virtual reality is we can leverage all kinds of locomotion techniques that people use in virtual reality games, like instantly moving from one position to another,” said Mose Sakashita, a doctoral student in the field of information science.

“This functionality enables remote users to physically occupy a very limited amount of space but collaborate with teammates in a much larger remote environment.”

Mose Sakashita, a doctoral student in the field of information science, with the VRoxy system. Image credit: Sreang Hok/Cornell University

Sakashita is the lead author of “VRoxy: Wide-Area Collaboration From an Office Using a VR-Driven Robotic Proxy,” presented at the ACM Symposium on User Interface Software and Technology (UIST), held Oct. 29 through Nov. 1 in San Francisco.

Researchers said that VRoxy’s automatic, real-time responsiveness is key for remote and local teammates. With a robot proxy like VRoxy, a remote teammate confined to a small office can interact in a group activity held in a much larger space, like in a design collaboration scenario.

For teammates, the VRoxy robot automatically mimics the user’s body position and other vital nonverbal cues that are otherwise lost with telepresence robots and on Zoom. For instance, VRoxy’s monitor – which displays a rendering of the user’s face – will tilt accordingly depending on the user’s focus.

VRoxy builds off a similar Cornell robot called ReMotion, which worked only if local and remote users had the same hardware and identically sized workspaces. That’s changed with VRoxy. The system maps small movements from the remote users in VR to larger movements in the physical space, researchers said.

VRoxy is equipped with a 360-degree camera, a monitor that displays facial expressions captured by the user’s VR headset, a robotic pointer finger and omnidirectional wheels.

Donning a VR headset, a VRoxy user has access to two view modes: Live mode shows an immersive image of the collaborative space in real time for interactions with local collaborators, while navigational mode displays rendered pathways of the room, allowing remote users to “teleport” to where they’d like to go.

Researchers said this navigation mode allows for quicker, smoother mobility for the remote user and limits motion sickness.

Researchers said the system’s automatic nature lets remote teammates focus solely on collaboration rather than manually steering the robot.

In future work, Sakashita wants to supercharge VRoxy with robotic arms that would allow remote users to interact with physical objects in the live space via the robot proxy. Elsewhere, he envisions VRoxy doing its own mapping of a space, much like a Roomba vacuum cleaner.

Currently, the system relies on ceiling markers to aid the robot in navigating a room. He said the extension to support real-time mapping could allow VRoxy deployment in a classroom.

Source: Cornell University

You can offer your link to a page which is relevant to the topic of this post.

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mooncraftmagick · 2 years

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✨Moon’s Companion✨

For wild cats, each month will adjust the schedule of life according to the moonlight intensity and the change of the moon position. Pet cats are not as "sensitive" to the moon as wild cats.

But the influence of the moon on cats can still be observed.

When the moonlight is gone, many pet cats will eat. A few days before the full moon, many pet cats will eat less, and their appetite will return to a good state at the full moon.

At the full moon, domestic pet cats are also prone to restlessness, and some cats still try to go out and play.

When the moonlight is gone, cats will often be with people. But this is not the only factor that cats like to look at the moon.

Another important factor is that cats are used to seeing the "moon as an indicator".

Whether it is a wild cat or a domestic cat, it needs to use some things in the environment or around as indicators.

For all cats, the moon is a good indicator.

If your cat often goes out to play, on the way home, the cat will use the position of the moon to identify the direction.

For domestic cats, the location of the moon is also an important factor for cats to define their home. In addition, the results of the new research on cats show that moonlight itself can have some effects on the health of cats.

A view that has gradually become a trend is: allows cats to see the moon, which can increase the natural atmosphere of the cat’s living environment .

And this natural atmosphere can alleviate many domestic pet cats "emotional problems caused by being kept at home for a long time."

If the window itself has good ventilation, then the moon and fresh air are enough to make a cat feel good. If your cat likes to stare at the moon outside the window, try not to disturb the cat.

Looking at the moon can make cats feel better and less stressed, truly the moon’s companion! Sending blessings to you and your loved ones. 💙💙

Image found on Pinterest. Source: https://daydaynews.cc/en/entertainment/amp/1067789.html #mooncraftmagickstore #witchesmoon #rituals #cats #catmoon

#wicca #wiccan #earth witch #magick #earthmagick #mooncraftmagick #spiritual #pagan #earthwitch #green witch #moonmagick #beauty of nature #wiccanlife #cats #cat moon #cat magick

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faggotmox · 2 years

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Oooo little prompts. Mox having a bad sensory night and Yuta helps?

make ranger write [ i'm so close to filling all these & it'll be the first time ever ]

title: not rough enough rating: g pairing: Jon Moxley/Wheeler Yuta word count: 2054 warnings: autistic meltdown, negative talk about said meltdown author’s notes: this should be a series tbh summary: Wheeler just wants to check in on Mox, and finds that it's not a good night for his partner.

“Mox?” Wheeler called out as he knocked on the hotel room door again. There still wasn’t an answer. Wheeler tried again, for the third time but nothing. Just as he went for a fourth try the door cracked open slightly.

“What the fuck do you want, Wheeler?” Mox asked quietly, his hood pulled up and eyes…Mox kept his eyes closed. The air from inside the room wooshed out, cold enough to make Wheeler shiver.

“You okay?” Wheeler frowned, his hand coming out to grab the edge of the door because Mox was about to shut it. “Mox.”

“Fuck.” Mox sighed, letting go of the door before stepping back into the dark hotel room.

The hotel was pitch black, Wheeler was quick to notice but what he could manage to see…well the place wasn’t wrecked but everything was out of place. A lot of Mox’s clothes were pulled out which normally stayed messily inside his bag. Everything from his personal bag seemed to be out on the coffee table like he’d been looking for something but couldn’t find it. There were some food things, take out containers or green nature valley bars that were open but not eaten. Just single bites it looked like. Wheeler noticed all the blankets on the floor by the bed. As the younger wrestler took in the state of the environment something else caught his eye.

Mox was in the space with the coffee table and couch, moving around. Pacing like he was about to head out for a match. The familiar Deathmatch Strong hoodie was being tugged down over Mox’s hands then Mox flicked his hands out in a strange way, the normal shoulder roll following. Wheeler blinked a few times as he tried to figure it out. Mox only had on a pair of black boxer briefs and some socks with the hoodie as he moved around.

“It’s--” Mox sounded desperate and aggravated. The pacing didn’t stop, the hand flicking amped up.

“It’s what?” Wheeler kept his voice quiet, the lack of noise made every sound seem too loud and Mox was twitching at every sound including Wheeler’s voice. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can fix it.”

“It’s fuckin’ stupid.” Mox ran his hands over his head then down his face as he looked at the bed for a moment before starting to move again. It reminded Wheeler of a shark. Like if Mox stopped moving he’d die.

“I’m sure it’s not.” Wheeler moved around the edge of the bed to be closer to Mox but still didn’t fully approach.

“It’s fuckin’ stupid! I--” Mox turned sharply away and shook his head. “I’m a grown fucking man, Wheeler. I’m a grown fucking man and the fuckin’ bed sheets--” Mox looked about ready to break the coffee table.

Instead Mox did something that totally surprised Wheeler. After a few more short steps Mox jumped on his toes for a moment as if that would shake out the anxiety. Once the jumps were completed Mox, still flicking his hands and rolling his shoulders, made his way to the far wall. He sat down against the off white hotel wall and curled in on himself. “I hate it. Fuckin hate this shit. I can’t--”

“Mox!” Wheeler came forward quickly, raising his voice just a little to get Mox’s attention as he sat in front of the older man. Apparently Wheeler had interrupted some sort of panic attack. “You’re upset right now. I can understand that. Maybe we can fix whatever upset you.” Wheeler trained to explain. “Something is wrong with the sheets?” Wheeler tried, hopeful Mox could form the words needed.

It seemed like such a strain on Mox, he had to throw his head back against the wall with a sharp thud a few times to answer. The sound made Wheeler wince. He wanted to reach out to stop,

“Y-Yeah.” Mox worked out the single word. “They feel bad.” Mox sounded like he was holding back tears, and Wheeler had to wonder how long the other had been worked up.

“They feel bad?” He asked. “Like it's too rough?” But Mox shook his head.

“Too s-soft.” Mox sighed heavily. “Just tryin’ to sleep and it feels like fuckin’ ants all over me or somethin’.”

“It's…it’s too soft so it’s tickling you?” Wheeler realized the issue very quickly.

“Tried to wear my hoodie and sweats but it got too fuckin’ hot. Tried to turn down the air but it just…couldn’t get comfortable without any blankets on me. Couldn’t fuckin’ fall asleep. Just kept feeling fuckin’ weird.” Mox groaned. “Tossin’ and turning. I fuckin--” Mox stopped himself then forced a few deep breathes in and out.

“I brought some blankets with me. They’re in my room.” Wheeler offered after wracking his brain for solutions. The only solution was to find blankets that weren’t as soft. “For the car. But they’re a little rough. Maybe that’ll help?”

“T-think so?” Mox’s eyes shined with unshed tears, his nod knocked a few free but he quickly used his shoulder to stop them from falling too far.

“I’m gonna ask Bryan to bring them over.” Wheeler pulled out his phone to pull up Bryan’s number. They were rooming together since it was Mox’s turn in the rotation to have the single.

“D-Don’t t-tell him I’m-I’m freakin’ out, Yuta.” Mox tried to sound threatening but he just didn’t. Not with how much pain he was in.

“I won’t.” Wheeler shook his head a little, sure that Bryan wouldn’t be a total prick but still didn’t say anything. In fact he just asked Bryan to drop the blankets outside of Mox’s room. “Said he’d be right over.”

“It’s not like…a-all the time.” Mox sighed and hung his head. “J-Just sometimes t-things feel weird and I t-try to just ignore i-it but--”

“You can’t ignore it.” Wheeler agrees. “C’mon, Mox, it’s got nothing to do with being an adult or ignoring it.”

“I hate it.” Mox gritted out, his head falling back and eyes closed. “I feel stupid, and weak.”

“You’re definitely not weak or stupid.” Wheeler laughed a little. “So what if the blankets are too soft? You could sleep on glass and you’d sleep like a baby. You’re not stupid. You seemed to try just about everything short of sleeping on the floor. Were you about to sleep on the floor, Mox?” Wheeler got a small smile out of the older man.

“Yeah.” Mox nodded but seemed to be considering what Wheeler said very closely.

Before Wheeler could go on though there was a knock at the door. The blankets were quickly gotten from Bryan. A few words were exchanged but Bryan didn’t press. Just asked Wheeler to call if he needed something and tell Mox to feel better.

“Okay so…” Wheeler came back over to the bed and dropped the couple blankets on top of the sheet that Mox hadn’t gotten off. “I’m guessing this one sucks too?” Wheeler pointed at the fitted sheet and Mox gave a nod.

After a few seconds of consideration Wheeler laid out a quilted blanket. The top material was rough from age. The blanket was big enough to cover most of the bed. Wheeler smoothed out the quilt for a moment then waved Mox over. The other man slowly got up on shaky legs, still obviously not over the meltdown the sheets caused.

First Mox ran his hand over the blanket then slowly sat down. The material didn’t make him wince or make his skin feel like it was on fire. Fucking finally. Mox dropped back onto the quilt and fully started to relax. After a moment Wheeler found himself reaching out to touch Mox but stopped short.

“May I?” Wheeler was quiet, but not hesitant. Something told him that Mox really needed the contact.

All Wheeler got was a jerky nod so he reached out to gently stroke Mox’s bearded cheek. The coarse ginger hairs tickled Wheeler’s hand and the action had Mox leaning into the physical contact. The other blanket was a weird knitted material that felt rough to Wheeler so he hoped it worked for Mox.

“Let me know if this one isn't good.” Wheeler laid the blanket over Mox, like he was tucking the other in.

Another few seconds lapsed before Mox gave a little nod and rolled onto his side, pulling the blankets close to him. The way Mox finally relaxed, he looked so close to tears of relief. Wheeler wished he could convince Mox that it was okay to cry if he wanted to. The situation seemed very stressful when he got there. Eyes still closed Mox sighed and mumbled a thank you as he managed to cocoon himself in the knitted blanket.

Wheeler stood up from the bed but heard Mox whimper. An actual whimper causing Wheeler to turn around so fast. He looked down at the other, Mox’s blue eyes finally open and looking at Wheeler, pleading him not to go.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m just gonna get one of the green bars and some water.” Wheeler laid his hand on Mox’s hip over the blanket.

“Not hungry.” Mox grunted, the blanket being worked up to replace his hood.

“But you need to eat. Your food from dinner is hardly touched.” Wheeler pointed out. They had all gone to get something to eat, take out on their way back to the hotel. “Can we try?”

Mox searched his face for a while before nodding slowly. Mox was trusting Wheeler to help him when that obviously wasn’t very common. If Wheeler thought he needed to eat and drink then maybe he should. Mox knew he wasn’t the most rational person when these things happened. But it still upset him when Wheeler got up to get the things he said he was going to get.

“I’m right here.” Wheeler kept talking as he searched the dark room for the few items. Talked about whatever just so Mox knew he was still there. When he got back to the bed Wheeler realized that it would be hard to get Mox to eat laying down. “Can you sit up?”

“Hm.” Mox grumbled and started to sit up.

Wheeler quickly kicked off his shoes and stepped onto the bedside table. There wasn't enough room with how close Mox was to the edge to step on the bed. Once on the nightstand Wheeler stepped over onto the bed behind Mox and then slid down until he was against Mox’s back.

“Is this okay?” Wheeler asked as he pulled the knitted blanket back into place where it had come loose from the moving.

Mox just nodded but the last of the tension evaporated from his body. Wheeler slipped his arms under Mox’s arms and then around his middle, pulling him in tight to Wheeler’s chest. The water and granola were in hand. Wheeler broke off pieces and handfed Mox. It was clear Mox wasn’t really feeling the food but he ate it anyways. Wheeler was right that he needed to eat after all. The water was gently held to Mox’s lips by Wheeler’s steady hand and Mox drank some over time. Little sips until Mox pushes the water away. Wheeler capped it and put it to the side.

“That was really good, Mox.” Wheeler spoke in the softest voice he could manage without sounding condescending. Gently the younger man bumped the back of Mox’s head affectionately with his forehead.

“Only did it cause you.” Mox grumbled and turned over. “Gotta stay the night now.”

Wheeler was surprised when he was pulled down into the blankets. Mox moved over, wiggled some and Wheeler felt his arms being looped around Mox as the older man pressed his face against Wheeler’s t-shirt covered chest. Mox jerked back with a wince, Wheeler didn’t even think about it as he removed the shirt, tossed it to the ground and laid back. Mox settled in again, his face squished to Wheeler’s chest while Mox’s arms held onto Wheeler like the man was a teddy bear.

“Tighter?” Mox asked quietly, his body molding to Wheeler’s side. “Hold?”

“Sure. Sure.” Wheeler squeezed tighter causing Mox to let out a happy sound. The light blue eyes disappeared as Mox started to drift off. “Goodnight, Jon.”

“Thank you, Wheeler.” Mox held on to Wheeler tighter. “Thank you.”

#ranger written #jon moxley #wheeler yuta #jon moxley x wheeler yuta #fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction #fanfic #autistic mox is my passion

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