#but in paving the way for collective action

[ceruleancattail]

Serial Killer Rook thoughts:

Tw: Yandere, gore, implied murder, Rook’s very suspicious

Maybe he’s just that one guy living in a lonely little cabin by the lake. Nobody really knows much about him. At most, the villagers could only describe how he looked like, or how peasant he was. “A charming young man” was the most you’ll get out of the villagers’ chatter.

As the “delivery service” of your town, you cycle around on dirt-paved roads, running errands for the townsfolk for a small price. It ain’t much, but it’s an earnest living.

Occasionally, you drop by. Knuckles rapping away on that wooden door, calling out Rook’s name. You figure as someone passing through, it’s your duty to make sure that he hasn’t just upped and died. Rook answers your call promptly, a gentle smile dancing across his lips as he opens the door.

Ah, how nice of you, darling . Taking the time out of your day to check in on him. Oh, just look at you! How exhausted you must be, cycling all this way.

Wouldn’t you come in for a cup of tea? Rook never takes no for an answer, casually shooting down every excuse you could come up with. His arm soon finds itself way around your waist, carefully ushering you into his cabin.

Gently guiding you towards his living room, before those skilled hands of his busy themselves. Pouring you a cup of tea, asking questions. Rook’s way of making small talk, you reason.

What’s your favourite animal?

Oh, those? They were tricky to hunt, that’s for sure. Rook’s caught some before. Maybe next time you could drop by to see him in action.

Favourite colour?

Ah, how beautiful. Rook very much admires that particular shade as well… what an odd coincidence. He’s seen some wildflowers in that colour. Would you care for some blossoms?

How’s life been, in the village?

Ah, is that so? Rook prefers a quieter life, in the woods with nothing but the melody of nature to keep him company. It’s mediative, in a way. Maybe you should try, sometime.

You answer most of them light heartedly, laughing politely. Quipping back some questions of your own, you lean forward expectedly. Only to be greeted with a placid smile, before Rook turns the tables once more.

Emerald eyes staring into yours unwaveringly, their gaze burning into your irises itself. There was something unnerving about the intensity Rook’s eyes had, but you shrugged it off as just… a quirk of his. Yes, it had to be. He had to be focused, as a hunter living off the land… right?

A little weary from the constant bombardment of questions, your eyes flicker around the room, trying to find something else to talk about. Glancing at the walls, your eyes narrow in confusion. Most hunters you’ve known frame at least one or two of their exploits on the walls for the world to see. Even if taxidermy wasn’t their thing, at least there’ll be a photo or two.

Rook didn’t have that. His bows were framed on the walls, yes. Some metal crossbows, strings pulled taunt, ready to fire at any time. These laid beside more traditional bows, ranging from the natural hues of wood to the metallic sheen of steel.

Yet there weren’t any animals in sight. Only… pictures. Pictures of people in black and white. Going about their day. Most of these seemed to portray people in their most natural state, walking around, running errands… all the mundane activities of everyday life. But one thing struck you as odd.

None of them seemed aware they were being photographed. Out of all the photos on the wall, none of the subjects were looking into the camera. How odd.

Turning towards Rook again, you remark about how devoted he was to his craft. Surely to amass such a collection, he must be rather passionate about photo taking. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rook stiffen ever so slightly, a sinister glint gleaming in his eyes. Before it resumed its usual calmness, the placid smile clicking right back into place.

Well, yes… you could say he was very passionate about what he did. These people have treasured the photos Rook took of them… until the day they died.

A chill ran down your spine. You laugh nervously, remarking about how late it was. You should really be getting back to work. For a moment, Rook refused to move. A bead of cold sweat ran down your back, heart thundering away in your chest. Panic rushing through your veins, nothing but the pounding of your pulse beating within your eardrums.

Until finally, Rook got up. He walked you to the door, lamenting that you had to go so soon. It’s so rare he got any visitors. It’s rather lonely all the way out here in the wilderness….

Before you could even think, words slipped right past your lips:

“I’ll come back again. Maybe you can take my photo then?”

The ghost of a faint smirk danced across his lips as he clutched at your hands, proclaiming his gratefulness in elaborate prose. Before you stepped out of his door, Rook places something in your palm.

A necklace of… sorts. A silver charm was threaded through it, in the shape of an arrow. A lucky charm, Rook explained. It’ll keep you safe. Well, as safe as the circumstances allowed, he chuckled.

It used to belong to a client of his, but as of now? They… no longer have any need to use it, you see. So now Rook bestows it upon you! Ah yes, silver looks terrific on your neck.

Waving hesitantly , you cycle away from his cabin. Heaving a sigh of relief you had no idea that you were holding. An odd man… but charming, strangely enough. You guess you could pay him another visit the next time you were out.

Just… another one. To keep him from getting too lonely, Y’know?

From the window of the cabin, Rook stood slyly to the side. Parting the curtain with a single finger, watching you go. Goodness, how adorable. The darling on their bicycle, cycling off into the distance.

How defenceless.

Oh, how did he wish to reach right over, and trap you in his embrace. Rook could tell you were getting unnerved. With your gaze flitting all around, avoiding his own, with your trembling fingers as you pushed yourself off his armchair, clumsy excuses about the time….

Goodness, you were rather adorable, were you not? The silver necklace around your neck fit you perfectly, as well. As expected from his beloved cherie! Worry not, a charm is placed in the arrow itself. Harm will never befall you… well, unless you take it off. Rook wouldn’t know where you were, then. It’ll be hard for him to protect you, then.

That silver chain looked gorgeous around your neck, on that tender, soft skin of yours…

You couldn’t blame Rook for wondering how his own silver arrows would look like, impaled deep into your skin.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #yandere rook #rook #rook x reader #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook hunt x reader #yandere rook x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #protection potion ♦️ #once in awhile I have to indulge the insanity #y’all got to be reminded of why y’all are dubbed as victims #BE SUBJECTED TO MY WRITING MWAHSHAHHAHAHAHA

[theblackfemininesociety]

Girl Talk: How To Properly Hold Someone Accountable.

“You know that I love you, that’s with a passion but I’ll hold you accountable for your actions”

— ‘Accountable’ by BLXST

☕️ Let’s Have a Girl Talk:

In a society that often perpetuates toxic behaviors and fosters a culture of disrespect, it is crucial to explore alternative approaches to accountability. The Black Feminine Society embraces the idea that we can hold individuals accountable with love, genuine respect, and compassion, without resorting to demeaning and disrespectful tactics.

By confronting issues with a solution-oriented mindset and fostering progressive conversations, we can pave the way for positive change and growth.

This blog post delves into the power of accountability, the role of love and respect, and the importance of proactive engagement.

Accountability, by definition, involves acknowledging our mistakes, taking responsibility for our actions, and making amends where necessary.

The Power of Accountability:

Accountability is a fundamental aspect of personal and societal growth. It involves taking responsibility for one's actions, acknowledging the consequences, and actively working towards healing and restoration. Within the Black Feminine Society, accountability is approached as an empowering tool that encourages individuals to reflect, learn, and evolve. By holding ourselves and others accountable, we create opportunities for personal development and collective progress.

The truth is, genuine accountability is rooted in love, respect, and compassion. It is about holding our sisters accountable without demeaning them, without disrespecting them, but instead, acknowledging their potential for growth.

Tough love is not about harshness or severity. It's about transparency and honesty, delivered with good intentions and from the heart. It's about acknowledging the issue at hand and addressing it directly but kindly. It's about making the other person understand that they are loved and respected, even when they are being held accountable.

However, the reality is that holding someone accountable can often be challenging and uncomfortable. It becomes even more complicated when we want to ensure that the process is filled with respect and compassion, instead of negativity.

•

•

So, what actions can we take to encourage compassionate accountability in our society?

🩷 Understanding & Empathy:

Recognize the individual's experiences and feelings and validate them. By doing this, you're telling them that their perspective matters, and you're willing to walk alongside them on their journey to improvement.

👄 Speak from Love, Not Anger:

It's crucial to communicate from a place of love and genuine concern, rather than anger or frustration. This doesn't mean you shouldn't express your feelings; it just means you should do so in a way that doesn't belittle or disrespect the other person.

🩷 Focus on the Issue, Not the Person:

When holding someone accountable, concentrate on the behavior or action that needs addressing, not the individual. This approach ensures the person doesn't feel personally attacked, facilitating a more open and productive conversation.

✨Propose a Solution:

Confronting someone about an issue is the first step, but it's equally vital to present a solution, plan, or support. This positive action sets the tone for a progressive conversation and shows that you're invested in resolving the issue together, not merely pointing out faults.

🩷 Give Them Space:

After the confrontation, give the person some time and space to process the information. It's important to respect their need for reflection.

Join the sisterhood, Follow us on INSTAGRAM & FACEBOOK

#black women in luxury #classy black women #black women in femininity #feminine energy #black luxury #the soft life #feminine journey #femininty #life tips #self help #self discovery #self development #self discipline #love #black friendships #girl talk #bfs girl talks #classy tips

[tinycozycomfort]

rest in the cup of my palms (part three)

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x art student f!reader

chapter three: compromise

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

series summary: you went back to school to find out who you are—to make another leap in the hope of self discovery. when you finally find that first glimpse of yourself, it’s in someone else. what happens when the mirror tries to pull you in? or  you’re everything joel could’ve hoped to find. he doesn’t let go easily.

chapter summary: joel helps you work through your doubts.

warnings/tags: no outbreak, no use of y/n, (for everything) -> mutual pining!, possessive behavior, smut, ellie is joel's daughter, ellie and reader attend the same university but reader is in post-grad, age gap (joel is late 40s, reader is not), alternating pov, slow-ish burn / (for this chapter) -> sad thoughts about fatherhood, idolization!!, oral sex (f receiving), edging

word count: 5k

rating: explicit (18+ only! mdni)

A/N: thank you for your patience and thank you as always for reading! and special thank you to @pascalisbaby for bearing with me as i cried my way through this i love u

read on ao3 / main masterlist

“For the first time, I could clearly perceive the nature of feelings and emotions—I physically felt their consistency… the surge of a wave, the crumbling of a cliff… I understood the necessity of comparisons and metaphors using water and fire.”

Annie Ernaux, Simple Passion

───────

Minutes go by, but sluggishly, painfully—a dull crawl that mimics the cinematic use of slow-motion. The fracturing feels pre-climactic and almost momentous, too-long strides of seconds that pave the way for something grand. 

In reality, you’re just waiting; in this barely-lit, one shot hallway, aptly partnered by a life-sized amount of discomfort. You feel like a piece of something sprouted up from cement, forced into a mold not made with you in mind—love and like and candy-sweet, feverish feelings—unable to be removed now that you’ve grown in over the lip. Reaching for the sun. And he’s beautiful above you, radiant enough to burn behind closed eyelids—the image that shines there a carefully chosen snapshot that only adds height to where he hangs in the sky.

You’ve become so tired already, from the work-up and the frustration and the effort to stop it—like being outside all day with no reprieve until sunset; he’s that strong. It’s been restraint, followed by actions that negate it, followed by reinstating restraint, and still it doesn’t stop daylight from happening. Morning and high noon and six-o-clock oranges will never stop happening, so why not free yourself of the excessive rumination and the fighting? You’d much rather try to brave him—sunscreen and shade and a flat hand above your brow. Trying is good, easy, uncomplicated. Tonight, you can try. This is a good idea.

He’ll be here soon to prove it, too—on his way to come collect you, confirmed by the oblong rectangle of text on the brick clutched in your fist.

You move enough that it wakes up again, ’Fifteen minutes.’ flashing across its face, burning under the pad of your thumb. The thing is overheating now, somehow having absorbed some of the furious twisting of your excitement, and you shove it deep into your bag to let it cool—too honest of a mirror.  

You will your body to restart, moving back out onto the yard in search of Ian, to warn him of your exit—the only courtesy you have enough patience to give—frantic to get to the good part. 

You find him out by the flame, one foot resting on the brick-lined ledge of the pit, a still-full beer bottle tight in his grip. It’s tepid, too, if the lack of condensation is any indication. You curl your nose and he tips the top towards you, a waft of sour citrus pouring out. 

“What happened? My friend came back very upset that you were gone,” he teases, cocking a smile and rolling his neck over in question, languid and unserious.

“I’m leaving, actually. Didn’t want to go without saying.” You knock the bottle with the back of your hand until it threatens to spill over in the other direction. It’s unoffending, really, a nervous reaction, but it has him visibly questioning what ten minutes out of view had done to make you so taut.

He straightens up minutely at your unrest, only enough to reel back his exaggerated demeanor without drawing looks, “Are you good to drive? I haven’t had any of this yet—I can take you home.” 

“I’m not driving. I’ve got a ride.” 

“With?”

“Joel’s going to come get me.” 

His eyes widen, mouth spreading with what you’re sure are five too many questions, so you stop him before he can continue—afraid to mar his night with what you imagine would be too much to navigate right now, “I’ll explain tomorrow. Text me when you get home. I love you. I’m fine.” 

Part of you—a part that has no say right now—feels guilty for doing this to him a second time, for putting your friend through another half-witnessed, poorly justified fit of emotional anguish. He was the one who brought you here, to get away from this very thing, but somewhere in your bag there’s a faint stir, hard vibration jostling the contents, and you fail to think Ian through, again.

He’s barely even started to nod before you turn, slipping through the side gate and out onto the lawn. 

It only takes another handful of stretched-out moments—time lost completely on you now—before opaque beams cast across the curve of the street from the top of the cul-de-sac. They drop off into low-lights once the driver registers your presence and you push forward on shaky legs, knees locking—blood having gathered in your chest from anticipation, sloshing around your heart and cutting off circulation to your limbs. 

The vehicle—a truck—passes you, hitting the end of the block and returning up the drive, passenger door addressing you when it stops, your reflection warped in its convex surface. The window rolls down with a whir, and Joel’s face appears in the slit, eyes tired and hair flattened unintentionally—you absolutely woke him up. 

You let yourself in, hiking up a static-logged leg to settle in the seat before he pulls off back onto the street. It’s silent for too long, and you’re returning to a familiar feeling of acceptance, just like all the nights in your past where you’d admitted to yourself that you were going home with someone, driven by fuzzy feelings of instant connection and promise. It makes him easier to grasp—more human-like.

“You were asleep,” you mumble sheepishly, acknowledging his unpreparedness in an attempt to forgive your own. 

“‘Wasn’t supposed to be. I was waiting up for Ellie. I—uh, I thought you were her when you called.” 

He sounds just as level as he had on the phone, fingers rapping rhythmically on the steering wheel, “She texted a few hours ago to let me know she was out for the night. I fell asleep before I could see it.” 

Joel tucks the corner of his elbow in the window, laying his cheek on curled knuckles, and you chance a real glance at him for the first time. 

His dark blue t-shirt is wrinkled where it had been bunched at the torso, hanging limply now over a pair of rumpled jeans. Creases of sofa or pillow-case run up like tendrils on the skin of his arm, pressed in at various degrees of depth—restless enough to continue to pivot, even in repose. 

He looks homey, spun out of flesh-colored wool thread and plush, unlike the fatigue you’d seen on him in the classroom, or the buzz of anxious tension on the side of the school a few days ago. Here he’s just Joel, free of the idea of him or his actions; just-awake Joel with nothing to say except the truth. Pressure sits weighted on your shoulders, lingering guilt from choosing to savor, even if within the safety of emotional distance. It’s okay to look, isn’t it? Although looking isn’t all you had in mind.

“Can we go to your house?” 

“Did you drink?” 

Joel peers over his shoulder at you, and he looks meek but not small, like the question itself isn’t embarrassing but the act of asking it is. Oh. You remember your last encounter, how you’d blamed your exit on the wine, and your heart constricts at the idea that he’s asking because he’s afraid you’ll leave again. In all honesty, you wish you could leave, be strong-willed enough to have him let you out a block from your front door, never to be seen again. But you’re weak, at the mercy of your need to test your limits, your brain dipping into its reserve while your body fights to feign presence, hands rolling into fists in your lap.

“No. I haven't gone out much since the break started. Decided against getting fucked up.” 

He hums, satisfied, eyes falling ahead. The tires grind under you, lulling you into another tense quiet until he’s pulling up to the front of a well-kept, stone-faced home at the end of a short street. You lean forward to see more of it beyond the curve of the windshield, lined in copper trim with fender-shaped dents bruising the cover of the garage. It’s a call-back to grade school—what limited experience you had traversing the suburbs as a child—visiting friends in large, traditional houses with pretty concrete fountains and security-alarm signs forced into panels of fresh grass. 

Joel steps out and comes around the car to open your door before you have the chance to do it yourself, popping open the handle and stilling for a second before just stepping out of your way, perhaps in the sake of not being overly cliche. You try to appear unaffected by the notion, climbing down with a smile and sealing the door behind you, but you inwardly relish in his considered movements—he’s taming himself for you.

He leads you into the house—as quaint as it seemed to be—smelling warm and peppery like heat-soaked wood. It’s very much lived in, riddled with evidence of use—scuff marks at the threshold and smudged fingerprints in the dark paint on the walls where boots were taken off with the assistance of a grip. A side table brackets one side of the entrance, littered with bobbles and keys and a few other store-bought treasures. At its closest foot are several pairs of little sneakers, piled tall and wide on a wedge of rug, too narrow to be Joel’s. 

Ellie. 

There are signs of her everywhere, this faceless extension of him, her name scribbled on a few papers on the table and in the corners of framed drawings in the hallway; gorgeous hand, she has—all of the figures looking as true to life as they could, even when confined to paper cages. She lines the edges of their domicile, a path of lovingly curated representations of her, right down to a monogrammed leather sketchbook that sits on the dining table. 

And everywhere she is, he follows. Parts of him loom over her place-holders—guitar picks marked J in a dish with a box of charcoal nubs, a rolled up wad of button-up laid over a dark green backpack, a men’s watch sharing space on the counter with two tiny drops of backed silver. He watches over her within the borders of every container, open and solidly present behind her like a tough-knit net—ready to catch.

You step out of your shoes and he walks further in the house with haste, knocking around in what you assume is the kitchen when he returns with a glass of water.

“For you,” as he passes it, “Just in case.” 

“Thank you.” 

He curls a thumb into a belt loop at his waist, body teetering awkwardly as he watches you drink. You note the more-than-safe distance he’s put between you, the same kind he had implemented last week between his heart-wrenching confession and the point where this entanglement had escalated.

“Okay, so. I’m going to change. Do you want something too?” 

You can’t help but smile, a nervous laugh held tight in your throat, “Yes, we can go to your room.” 

Even in the dark, you don’t miss the flush of red along his jaw, the same shade he’d worn in the gallery, wine-soaked and unpracticed. 

You flinch inwardly. How is it that you are remembering so much about him when he’s existed in your world for less time than should be notable? Only two interactions, now three, but they’ve earned their slot in your fondest of memories; nothing substantial provided still, and he casts your sunrises and warms your earth. You fear what touching him again will do to you.

Joel smiles something shy back, walking past you and motioning for you to do the same. He leads you back through the display, minding the little shoes as he climbs up the steps. 

There are photos lining the staircase, less symbolic than the downstairs decorations, but just as revealing. A few of Joel and another man, similar in stature with a full smile and thick, slicked back hair, clasping shoulders or standing pin-straight side by side at different ages in mall-kiosk, christmas card style. Another of a young girl, all teeth and sparse freckles and pale cheeks. She’s wearing a cap and gown, shiny polyester catching in the flash, edges hazy with blur. 

That’s her. His daughter. You’ve seen her, you realize, from a few modeling sessions you’d done when you offered to cover for the younger students. You already knew her, too, floating around more than a few hellos on the days you’d sat for her like a silent idol. It feels odd to be in her home now, the two of you connected in a way she hasn’t come to partake in quite yet. She’s been at the head of your conversations with Joel until now—in this moment when she’s here but not here—and you wonder how much he’s considered her place in all this. You should at least thank her, you suppose; nod at her picture in prayer or cross your fingers that you might actually get to meet her—see her again, rather—and get to say it to her face.

Joel walks ahead of you as you linger, unbothered by your interest. You’re glad he does when you reach the last row. 

A larger frame bookends the slideshow, standing alone in its unique appearance. It’s hand-made, a thin string of painted ferns on the edges, the wings of something like a butterfly or moth wrapping over the right-hand corner, precise and niche enough to be nothing other than a gift. The picture inside is of the two of them together, happy and puffy-cheeked with their arms wrapped around each other, back-lit in front of some kind of museum display. 

Pure joy. His comfort. 

A swell of pain lodges in your ribs, eyes drawing wet. He’s losing her, you think, in a way he hasn’t even begun to realize. He's missed so much of her life—at no fault of their own—and will pursue her future as a bystander. You long to give him some kind of relief in that, maybe out of pity or maybe out of need. You wanted to be on your own, you wanted to be separated from everyone else out of spite for letting your family and your ex tower over you, heavy-handing their influence in false gestures of kindness. Not loving. Never loving—only present in best interests and helpful advice. Things that gave you purpose and points. Who was tallying? What have you to show for it now? 

You only ever wanted acceptance from them, to be recognized as a person instead of as a student or a daughter or a girlfriend—to be able to transcend role and become an active participant. 

It’s too perfect, this thing you each individually lack; what comes of someone who cares and someone who needs caring? 

“Hey.” Joel calls from the end of the room, pulling you out of your dissection of his life, voice soft like he’s seeing an apparition he’s unsure is there. 

“Hi.” You whisper, walking towards him, ignoring his tentative boundary, “You know, I did everything in my power to not call you.” There’s no point in keeping secrets now, from him or yourself. 

He crowds you in the doorway, body slumping on the line of his spine so he can entrap you more securely, u-shaped shoulders and outward facing palms, “Why did you call?”

“I couldn’t help it,” and before he can interrupt, “Joel, I need you to know that this isn’t going to end well.” 

“End? Have we started?” 

“We were doing this before we both knew it, I think. That’s what you were talking about, right—like we’ve met before?” 

“That’s right.” He’s breathing shallowly, unable to hide his desire for proximity now that you’ve allowed him more than he started with, chest moving back and forth like the breeze of the heater is enough to push his tide, “And I meant it.”

“So did I.” 

“Then what are you so scared of? If it’s familiar?” His knee knocks into the slice of thigh above yours. He’s getting closer. 

“Just because I want you now doesn’t mean I should have you.”

“What if I want you to have me?”

“Even worse.” The heat of his face leaks out onto yours and you open yourself to it—the hot sun in July, the boiling rain of mid-summer, all encompassing and working hard to bring you up to temperature so you can burn along with it. Setting you ablaze. 

You lean up, the tip of your nose catching on the stubble lining his jaw, careful to not break eye contact for longer than the briefest moment, nudging him in short taps. 

“I do, though, honey. I think you know I do.” His knee pushes between yours, digging into the joint of your leg to unfold you, the rough denim over his zipper dragging across the knob of your hip.

You curl a hand around the fabric covering his stomach, wrinkling it past the point of correction as it folds under the damp of your fist. He’s far from at length now, both nothing of what you intended and exactly what you wanted. He’s thrilled about it too, seemingly—the muscle under his torso fluttering when your nails drag against him. 

He’s everything again, everywhere, soft tanned skin and jeans he came up here to ‘change out of’, the invisible halo around him swallowing you, coaxing you into his orbit. You want all of it, piece by piece and for all he’s worth. 

“I don’t want to waste you,” you murmur, and there’s that unashamed boldness again, honesty rushing out like an unsupervised beast. Joel wraps his thick fingers around the side of your neck, thumb pushing into soft cheek, between rows of teeth and over skin, pushing them apart. 

His eyes are glossy, like he’s just gotten up from a long sleep, gauzy and sloppy and sticky. His mouth hangs open to mimic yours as he speaks, “You couldn’t. I have an endless amount to give,” and then he’s licking the outline of your open lips, slipping his tongue in to press along the roof of your mouth and up up up to the back of your teeth. He’s puffing hard out of his nose, dipping in and out of your split, licking even the pad of his thumb where it pokes through the hollow, touching himself inside you. 

His free hand grips the top of your ribs, leading you backwards towards the bed until you’re seated at the edge of it, his back curved harshly to continue to taste you. 

You’re kissing him back, you know that, but your thoughts float up to cloud your pleasure and you’re getting ahead of yourself all over again. What does he want? Why does he want it? Would he be upset to learn you’re trying to give him less? You flip the hem of his shirt between your forefinger and thumb, toes curling against the carpet—walking that line of self-doubt. 

He breaks away, so careful again even with no clear need to be, “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m just nervous.” 

“About now? Or about me?”

“Both.”

“Just talk to me, then. Tell me why we shouldn’t—we can work through it together. Let me take some of that worry off of you.”

Joel braces a knee on the corner of the mattress to hold himself steady, gripping you under the joints of your shoulders and pulling you towards the center of the bed. He deposits your body like nothing, kneeling at the apex of your thighs. 

Your voice shakes, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He works at the buttons on your shirt with long fingers, drawing it over the hills of your shoulders until your collar rolls in on itself from the force, falling away. Joel wraps the layer over the panel of your jacket and pulls, undressing you like he has to memorize how to be able to put you back together. He does the same with your bra, achingly slow, but you can feel tiny tremors in his wrist as it runs against your back. 

You just watch for a minute, unable to link what he’s doing to reality, arms feeling weak like the dull ache of a full-body cold, akin to sickness. 

“Go on, honey. Only gonna keep going as long as you do.”

“I— I feel connected to you. I don’t want to.” 

He closes his eyes and bobs his head, I understand, and your body starts to feel numb at your core, pulsing so violently it prompts you to roll your ankle to make sure you haven’t left it behind. 

“More,” he pants, running fully-spread hands over every piece of bare skin, your nipples pulling tight as the motions move from gentle to greedy, passing to tugging. 

“I can’t do this again. I have a hard time letting go. What if you want me for the wrong reason and I can’t hate you for it?” 

He pops the button of your pants, lifting you up off the bed to take the garment down and off, dipping his fingers into the rim of each of your socks on the way to remove them at the same time.

You push your forefingers into the band of your underwear, but Joel meets your hand as you start, winding a finger around the lace and pulling opposite so they catch—leave these on. 

You comply, but you know you’re already wet through them, know that he can see it, and you can’t decide if you want him to know his effect on you, legs buckling in no clear direction; but he feels so good, and he’s almost where you want him, and he’s waiting for you to keep talking, so you lean into the heat. You spread.

“It’s easy to tell myself you’re different once I’m in it. But it never works out right. I get too attached.” 

Joel settles in, shouldering the left side of his body under your thigh to bring you open further, wrapping his arm around it and letting a hand situate against your belly. He turns his right palm away from himself, flattening it like a warning sign before he pushes it against the crease of your cunt, rubbing in slow circles with the curve of his fingers, right under the points. You thrash, trying to force him just an inch up to where you’re throbbing, but he doesn’t budge—he’s making you earn it.

“What if you just want me because you think you need someone to take care of? What if you find out you feel better alone?”

He dips two fingers into your cunt through the film of your underwear, shallow but firm—more than just curious. You feel like you might just come from this, from just the suggestion of him. 

He uses his forearm to butt against the underside of your thigh, prompting you to lift it towards your chest, and he leans down to cup your clit into his mouth, fabric and all. His mouth is searing with the aid of the material, a tight suction that insulates the heat he’s expelling. 

You’re heaving now, light-headed and loose as broad strokes of his tongue soak the already tainted cloth, the extra stimulation from its drag enough to make your head spin. You’re sure that if you breathe any harder your chest will cave in.

“Hm?” He asks against you, demanding, the vibration of it setting your skin alight, and you force your nails into the dip of your hand to keep your mind in the room. You’re stuttering, but it’s not enough of a response, so he leans back—cruel and merciless. 

“What did I say?” he coos, left hand pinching into the swell of flesh at your side.

It stings but you gasp, eager to take, even if the attention so so far away from where it should be, and you have to count your breaths out in groups of five to come back into focus. 

“What if I’m willing to take what you give me? Does that ruin the safety I’ve built for myself?” you whisper, and finally he peels back the curtain of fabric, only enough to present your entrance, rough fingers greeting your opening with no resistance, twisting and hooking them so just the tips are fixed inside. He positions himself above his hand, spitting onto your still-covered clit, watching it slide down and gather where you join. It’s unnecessary, with how much slick you know is pooled there, trailing down onto the sheets under you, but you chalk it up to just having another piece of him inside of you—you’ll gladly accept it.

You’re so very close, and he can tell, maybe from the shake in your hoisted leg or the lack of time in between airy cries, and he just slides in, right to the first knuckle. No room to be ready.

The sound of blood rushing in your ears is so loud you don’t hear yourself when you start begging. You writhe under the hold he has on you, relieved and overwhelmed and a few inches from your soul pouring right out of your body.

And then he’s not moving again, lessening the recovery time he’s willing to allow you, and you try to dig through the fog of arousal to find real words, but your mind can only conjure up a single-syllable sentence as you beg him to relent. 

He frees himself from the clutch of your leg, shimmying out so he can use his unsodden hand to cradle your head, the weight of your skull limp in his palm, “You can do it. Get it all off your chest.”

Joel presses his thumb up under your cheek, pulling at the crease of your lips like he can will you to speak with force alone. 

“I can’t. Please. Just finish.”

“You have something else you want to say. I don’t take kindly to giving up. C’mon.”

He gives you a half-step, reminding you part of him is still within you, fingers curling up against the soft muscle and you skip over a hard inhale. 

“How am I supposed to know what I’m up against if you won’t tell me?” He says it like it’s obvious, like this is some very common step in relationship-building—finger-fucking you as a reward for confessing your skepticism. 

You’re tense, holding the whole of your body in one, tiny scrap of you and it feels like you’ve entered some kind of limbo, suspended in the place between tension and relief, so close to falling that you’re not sure you want either of them. 

He angles himself again, pushing his entire heft into your hip with a wide hand so he can fit himself flat against the bed, mouth hovering over your cunt again. He exhales hard over you, the fingers still tucked in your cunt moving as he adjusts. 

“Please?” He begs sweetly, high enough on the end that you know he’s mocking you, “You can do better than please.”

You huff hard, swallowing thickly—trying again, “What if you—What if—,” you manage, and the lead-up must be convincing enough because he bows again, body fully flat so he can latch on to your clit with his mouth, lips closing tight around the bud through cotton and sucking hard, the hand inside you stirring to life, his twisted positive reinforcement serving you well.

“Fuck, Joel. Fuck—What if you make me love you, just to leave me?” 

Your ankle drifts down to find purchase against his waist, and you can feel him moving, working himself into the mattress. In the chaos, you’d forgotten about his want, and being reminded of his ability to take makes your sweat run cold. He could fuck you now, and instead he’s fucking the bed thinking about you—even bringing you to completion is enough to make him chase release. You lean your head back behind your shoulders, your orgasm overtaking you one harsh wave at a time, stomach filling with thick, hot syrup. You push your teeth so deep into your lip there has to be blood but you can’t taste it, all of your senses honed onto where he’s unraveling you, shrinking in on itself in preparation to violently burst.

He weighs in, now that you’re already cresting, “I won’t leave you, sweetheart. Not now that I know what you need.” 

His admission, his promise, is enough to make you see white, pushing your peak into overstimulation far too soon, and you have to be crying or begging or something because he immediately slows, winding you down in an organic way—taking his time leading you past bliss. 

He pulls his hand free of you, sliding his grip over the damp, half-mounted fabric and peeling it away, hand circling your calf to maneuver you gently.

You’re fully naked now, and when he rolls over to stand at the foot of the bed, you remember he’s still clothed. There he is, above you again like he brings the dawn, bent shirt and uneven waistband and shiny slip over his lips.

It looks different from your memory though, here he looks inexplicably pained, face wrinkled, and then settles another reminder—he hadn’t come.

“Wait, Joel.” 

He doesn’t answer, just recedes to another part of the room you can’t see over your heap of arms and legs. 

You’re still swallowing ragged mouthfuls of air, not quite normal, when he reappears, the feeling of hot cloth against your still fragile cunt makes you writhe.

“Joel.” 

“Yes?” 

“You didn’t get to… finish,” you mutter, and how you’re too embarrassed to address his arousal even after what just transpired is beyond you. 

“No need to rush anything. I can take care of myself for now, plenty of time to get to that point.”

“What now, then?” 

“Sleep with me. I can take you home if you want, or to your car, but I would much rather if you stayed.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

#joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fic #joel miller/reader

[absolutebl]

Welcome to Tumblr BL Fandom - Here’s Your Primer

memes, insider trading & obsession meta post

The Death Stairs 

They haunt us. These same stairs constantly pop up in Thai BLs and we worry that someone is going to die on them (or fuck on them, or both).

BL origin = unknown, we only recently started tracking them (but the actual origin of the death stairs is 99 Home Studio117, RPC6+JM3 ซอย รามอินทรา 117 Min Buri, Bangkok 10510, Thailand. It appears to be a house rented out for filming. Honestly? They should AirBnB that level of fame. I’d rent it, buy a cactus and a chili plant, just for the photo op.)  

Rain Makes BL Boys Sick

For which the only solution is a sponge bath administered by another boy with a bowl of water and a damp white towel.

We don’t make the rules, the BL gods do. 

origin of the rain=fever = cultural

BL origin for the sponge bath = 2014′s Love Sick

The gayest bridge in Thailand

The Rama VII Bridge has appeared in so many Thai BLs - boys kiss on it and in front of it... A LOT. 

BL origin = SOTUS 2016  

Honor the Crumbs

Side dishes given very little screen time always end up being everyone’s favorites (especially in the pulps). Also falls under side dish syndrome. This is mostly a Thai BL thing, since they’re usually the BLs featuring more than one couple. (Taiwan is getting there, tho.)  

BL origin = @heretherebedork

The Engineering Department is Gay (also Pink Milk) 

The hot Thai boy in the engineering smock (red or blue) is either gay or a chaos bisexual. There are no exceptions. 

BL origin = SOTUS 2016 

Korea’s BL bubble 

A world where queer is simply accepted and a hostile society doesn’t exist. ​

Origin, probably Strongberry’s 2017-2018 shorts, but best known starters are 2020′s Mr Heart & Wish You

Namgoong award for best wingman 

Supportive straight(ish) besties! Appear throughout BL history, but really reached peak awesome with Namgoong, so a collection of us just started saying “thank you, Namgoong” whenever this archetype shows up. 

BL origin, Light on Me 

Korea’s BL formula 

(1 short Kpop idol + 1 tall actor / random separation in the last half of the final episode) x a small cast = KBL (usually 6-8 episodes totaling under 2 hrs)

BL origin, 2015′s The Lover 

Korean male beauty ideals here. 

Korea figured out boys can kiss 

To be fair Strongberry always knew this and Just Friends? gave it to us in 2005, it’s just they forgot for a while. A long while. 

origin = Korean 2022 BL

speaking of... 

Dead fish kisses

This tradition carried for years by Japan’s light BL, early Thai BL like Love Sick, & then Korea. It took Thailand’s 2016 BL (specifically elder gods KarnNut & MaxTul) to start breaking this curse. Could be argued that Ohm in 2016′s Make it Right also paved the way (while BoomPeak exemplify dead fish kissing). 

origin = early 2000s JBL when it was still known as Live Action Yaoi 

Taiwan = the kings of high heat 

Taiwan always serves up the most consistent and authentic chemistry, kisses, and higher heat. Thailand has it as well, but isn’t as consistent about it. 

BL origin = 2017 HIStory franchise and every Taiwanese BL since (although Eternal Summer probably started it in 2006) 

Taiwan’s marriage equality 

Taiwan was the first to feature sanctioned gay marriage in a BL, the first to depict queer engagements - and they regularly like to remind us that it’s legal there. As they should. 

BL origin = HIStory 2: Right or Wrong 2017 

Thailand’s food = love

Lovers cook, serve, feed, and/or eat together. Always. At least something along these lines in every Thai BL. 

origin, well just Thailand in general (and Asia to be fair), but probably SOTUS & Love Sick 

Vietnam’s domesticity

Vietnam always depicts at least some of their characters in a home environment, with family life, adopted kids, and more.

BL origin = Tein Bromance Extra

Cactus baby (and chili plant younger sibling) 

Hilariously a cactus plant was deployed as a courting gift, spy device, and blooming representation of sexual awakening in MaxTul vehicle Manner of Death. Tumblr adopted that cactus baby. 

BL origin = Manner of Death 2021

What China Did 

Massive wholesale censorship curtailed/abruptly cut short multiple shows in progress in 2016-2017. Also resulted in rewriting and reshooting of those in production, and more weird and invidious things. This also showed up as a purge (and likely persecution) of Chinese queer vloggers on YouTube, the imprisonment of several danmai authors, and eventually the censored bromances we now get today. 

BL origin victim = Addicted, Advance Bravely, etc...

Japan’s lanes 

Japan’s propensity to lean in favor of either

sweet, campy, and very low heat live action yaoi shot in a manga style with HEA, or 

dark, gritty high heat queer cinema and pinks shot in an atmospheric style with tragic endings 

BL origin, Boys Love 2006 & Takumi-kun 2007 

History of Japanese BL here and the weeds of Japanese BL here. 

#In Strongberry We Trust 

Small, queer, Korean production house Strongberry had been producing short form pro-queer KBL successfully for years, long before larger studios picked BL up. But when they transitioned to long form in 2022, we were a little scared they wouldn’t stick the landing. #InStrongberryWeTrust became our mantra.

BL origin = Choco Milk Shake 2022 

Faen Fatal(e) 

A side character, usually an ex-girlfriend but occasionally an ex-boyfriend, whose sole purpose is as a plot device to drive a wedge between the leads, or cause jealousy. 

BL origin = Love Sick

The Thai BL Pulps

Very low budget BL with terrible sound, crazy soapy plots, and earnest acting.

BL origin = Make It Right 2016 (term coined by @heretherebedork​ & self) 

The Mame effect 

AKA #oh mame must you? 

The mameverse features great characters, killer actor chemistry, and higher heat combined with terrible damaging tropes and non-sensical plot devices.

BL origin = TharnType (although technically started in Love By Chance) 

The 2 Moons Curse 

When a popular BL franchise struggles to survive over one season and keeps having to recast the leads. 

BL origin = 2Moons original 2017 

Dread Episode 11 

AKA Doom of Ep 11

Explained here. 

Golden Rules of BL 

Never trust: 

a Thai trailer, 

a Viki Category, 

a Vietnamese sub, 

an MDL description, 

a Taiwanese title, 

Japan, 

or a BL made before 2014.

Origin = me over the years 

BLoundary Test: has the seme ever respected a single boundary?

BLechdel Test. 2 ukes discuss something that is not their seme(s). Also uke indicates actual interest in sex in a relationship.

(source)

okay what did I forget? 

#bl memes #bl insider trading #bl tumblr fandom #bl fandom #Golden Rules of BL #Episode 11 #2 Moons Curse #The Mame effect #oh mame must you? #mameverse #TharnType #Thai BL pulps #Make It Right #Love Sick #Thai BL #Faen Fatal #In Strongberry We Trust #korean bl #Choco Milk Shake #strongberry #Japanese bL #Takumi-kun #addicted the series #Manner of Death #Cactus baby #HIStory 2: Right or Wrong #Dead fish kisses #Light on Me #Namgoong #Korea’s BL bubble

[hunieday]

Momo - Drama Collection (Winter) Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Momo: Good work, Torao! Hope you enjoy your time today at the drinking party 😆

Momo: I'm super looking forward to drinking with the drama cast! 💯 ✨

Mido Torao: I’m also looking forward to it.

Mido Torao: Seems like Nikaido and Yaotome will be late though, did you hear about that?

Momo: I did! They said they're busy with work~!

Momo: Is it okay if it's just the two of us until they come ⁉ Or do you want me to invite the super handsome special guest Y-san ⁉

Mido Torao: Yuki-san huh…

Mido Torao: Um

Mido Torao: I want to be alone with you, is that okay?

Momo: ba-dum...

Momo: I was joking around to lighten the mood, but Momo-chan got all giddy... 

Momo: I’m not cheating on you, darling ‼ 😭 💦

Mido Torao: You were joking huh…

Momo: But thanks for saying you’re okay with just the two of us alone 👍✨ I'm really looking forward to drinking with you!!

Mido Torao: Thank you. I'm looking forward to it too

Momo: Huh!? Really!? 

Mido Torao: Yes

Momo: What should I do!!! I feel like Momo-chan is wrapped around Torao’s fingers... 🥺

Mido Torao: no i’m not HAHA

Momo: 

Momo: But you know, you've become cute! You’re a lot rounder around the edges nowadays

Mido Torao: Are you saying I got fat!?

Mido Torao: I mean yeah, the other members keep giving me unusual snacks to eat lately...

Momo: that’s not what i meant lolololol you’re already cute lololol

Momo: By the way, what kinda snacks are you getting? 🤭

Mido Torao: Puffed rice? They come in pouches and are crispy and delicious.

Momo: Puffed rice~~!! How nostalgic! Makes me wanna go to a candy store (*ﾉωﾉ)

Momo: Tell me more stories over drinks okay!

Mido Torao: Got it. I also have something I want to talk to you about

Mido Torao: I’d like you to teach me a lot more about acting.

Momo: Torao... 🥺 ✨

Momo: Now that you mention it, you know, Yuki liked Torao's role and found it really interesting! 

Momo: "I thought he'd stop Momo from recklessly breaking into someone else's territory alone, but he charged in head first" he looked like he enjoyed watching it 😂

Mido Torao: The part where I ride my bike and blurt out, "I’ll be the one who paves the way for the leader" right?

Momo: Yes yes! Vice-leader-kun is quite reckless!

Mido Torao: Of course his followers would be bloodthirsty when their leader’s like that.

Momo: Well, the leader is a tiiiiiny bit of a rascal, isn’t he? 😅 💪

Mido Torao: a bit is the understatement of the century.

Mido Torao: Chasing after the enemies up a three meters high wall, jump-kicking them from the stairs... I thought it was quite the violent script

Momo: right lolol the action scenes sure were intense~~!!

Momo: I tried my best to follow your example 😤💪

Mido Torao: My example?

Momo: That's right! Watching Torao work so hard on his stunts motivated me!

Mido Torao: Is that so...

Mido Torao: I was an inspiration for Re:vale…

Momo: Are you getting fired up?

Mido Torao: Burning hot.

Momo: Just! too cute!!! 😆 😆

Momo: Apparently our relationship was popular on SNS too ;P🫰

Mido Torao: Really? What were they saying?

Momo: "Vice-leader-kun always standing next to the leader with a smug smile, they’re my bias!" (1)

Mido Torao: There it is, “they’re my bias”. What’s a bias? what the hell does that mean?

Momo: there it is lololololol

Mido Torao: I’m curious. I heard Haruka use it the other day too.

Momo: It means someone you like the most! 😆 saying “bias” sounds stronger than just saying “love”~!

Mido Torao: I see. It does feel more intense.

Momo: How about you start using it, Torao!

Mido Torao: In what situation would I even use it?

Momo: For example...

Momo: It’s everyone’s bias, Momo-chan! ;P 🫶 🫶

Mido Torao: I don’t think that’s for me…

Momo: That’s not true!!! Just try saying it for a bit!!

Mido Torao: I’m your bias, Mido Torao.

Momo: 

Momo: 

Mido Torao: I’m not sure about this one…

Momo: No it's really good!!!!!???

Momo: But well, your fans are most likely looking for a strong and cool Torao (*ﾉωﾉ) 🤎

Mido Torao: Well, I’m confident that I can make someone fall in love with me just by standing there and not saying a word.

Momo: Nice, I want to hear tons of stories about the confident Torao 👍

Mido Torao: Hell yeah, later. I’m looking forward to it.

Momo: 

The original conversation went a bit different, Momo ends his message with “好きピ= sukippi”, Momo later on explains that it’s a combination between 好き=suki (like) and ピーポー=people (pi=ピ), which means a “favorite person” even if it’s sometimes used on objects and such. The closest and most “literal” translation would be “fave”, but I doubt Torao wouldn’t know what a fave is so I went with bias instead.

HUGE thank you to Ai (soushibana and chettiri on twitter) for helping me out with the snacks translation! I wouldn't have understood it without her, big props & go check her accounts out!

#idolish7 #idolish7 translation #idolish seven #momo re:vale #sunohara momose #mido torao #re:vale #zool #ainana #i7 #rabbitchat #drama collection

[evilautisticsociety]

Making a master list for all the great Hopepunk Solarpunk posts ive seen (IT UPDATES!!)

you don’t have to read all of this! you can scroll and find ones that interest you, id bold the ones that i want you to see but then all the links would be bold lmao

giving this to my future self

recipes under 45 minutes, 5 or less ingredients

What is conformity?

What is Solarpunk? (reddit masterpost)

Hattie Carthan- A 60 year old black women who paved the way (website)

Rules of Guerrilla Gardening (youtube)

When to do Guerrilla Gardening (and when not to

Easy way to do Guerrila Gardening (no seed bombs needed) (youtube)

Hope is not mindless optimism

Solar punks are against a shitty future

Deeeefinitely don’t look at the native plants and plant them alongside sidewalks to make the world greener and prettier

How to really make a difference

It is the cohabitation that makes all things beautiful.

Buy Nothing group; becoming a community

Fixing clothes- how to do it

Know your local communities

What if we stop an apocalypse?

Individual action into collective action

Wallgardens- More accessible and less space needed

Gardening for a climate resistance

Social Ecology

Actual solarpunk vs misconception

How to help with little energy/effort

An actual ecovillage!!

Attracting native birds

Amazing Ecovillage (tiktok vid)

Reconstructed Railway Bridge (tiktok vid)

What is Solarpunk? (youtube(

How can we make Solarpunk a reality? (youtube)

A cool guerrilla gardening group (youtube)

How radical gardeners took back centeral city (yourube)

Trees bring rain

Minimalism vs Solarpunk

The first guerrilla gardener (website)

More about Hattie Carthan (website)

Project of homes for homeless

Recommended youruber for Solarpunk

The problem with individualism

California has passed a food law! (Website)

How to be a Druid

How to make Biomass sustainable again

Indigenous Climate Plan!!! (Website)

What is Solarpunk? (website)

Permaculture

Conventional vs Unconventional Permaculture

Independent Gardening is NOT Inaccessible!

Role of Poor Soil

Example of a Guerilla Gardening Community

Seed Companies

How to Start a Garden (for FREE!!)

Affective Mousetrap (no rat poison needed)

How to get started with a new climate project (Instagram)

A district in Japan which works together with fish

How to start medicinal garden

Solar panels work

Ideas to improve bus stop

Kinetic energy power sources

Solar farms

Solarpunk Poetry

Food map :0 (where wild fruit/owned fruit trees are)

How to choose hope

How to turn your neighbourhood into a village

Creating a liberating society this sets off my warning sirens but idk look into it

Creating a Solarpunk city

Ableism, Cottagecire, and Solarpunk

Increasing soil capacity for water

Sourdough Recipe :3

Anarchists Calisthetics (anarcht every day!)

Guerilla gardening tutorial

#hopepunk #solarpunk #i will sow each seed by hand to make rhis my future #permaculture

[444rockstargf]

kinktober day 11.

10.21 - DOUBLE PENETRATION | DAN COOPER!

݁ ˖🕸️.𖥔 ݁ ˖ {tags} @willsdollface @bub0nic-plague @izuoyarmin @auggiethecreator @angelsanarchy @s-al-em @that-one-persons-posts @kashmirclam @areuirish @oliviah-25 @bl1ssfulbaby

previous: 10.19 - HATE SEX!

dom!reader x sub!dan

word count: 1.0k

contents: pegging, blowjob, slight overstimulation

during the month of october, dan made sure to add a little kick to his food deliveries to you. whether it was a flirty note at the bottom of the bag or a provocative photo of him that kept you up all night, you could always be sure that you were in for a treat.

it wasn't lost on you that he had quite the presence online. some called him a streamer and others called him a pornstar. you saw the type of content he created. he was the type who loved destroying himself to gain popularity, stretching out his tight little hole as his viewers encouraged him to push himself past his limits, which he constantly did without hesitation.

one day, you decided to set something up for him, just to see what would come out of it. he came to your front step, as usual, holding a bag of your favourite things. but today, the door was open just a crack, seeming to be inviting him in. he slowly pushed the door open, his eyes scanning the interior of the house, searching for you.

something called him toward the stairs, bringing him up and leading him to your bedroom. on your bed laid an assortment of toys, the type that he would usually use for his content. he stepped into the room, you hiding behind the door and shutting it behind him, startling him slightly. 

he looked at you with a little grin. “quite the collection you’ve got here.” you ushered him to the bed. “it takes one to know one.” your comment made his cheeks flush and a sizzling sensation in his pants. with a few more exchanged actions, dan sat there, stripped naked with his legs spread just enough to expose his erect cock.

you stood above him, adjusting the strap that would pave the way for the night you had planned for him. seeing him all ready for you like this made you want to treat him with care while also pushing him to his breaking point. you couldn't deny the thoughts that buzzed through your mind at this moment.

you grabbed a pink dildo that sat in the corner of your bed, using two fingers to pry his jaw open and shove the object in all the way. he gagged, his eyes instantly welling with tears as it came into contact with the back of his throat. you assisted him in pushing it in and out before he quickly got the hang of it, his throat bobbing up and down as he took in the toy. his years of experience truly shone through at this moment. 

you ordered him to turn around, taking the dildo out of his mouth and using the suction at the end of it to stick it to the wall. he obeyed your demand, taking the dick into his mouth once again, giving you the perfect view of his back. you placed your hands on his hips, giving his ass a harsh slap. he gasped, but the noise didn’t come out.

you forced his ass into the air, using a few drops of his precum to lube up your strap before pushing it into his tight ring of muscles. you didn’t give him anytime to adjust before quickly pounding into him from behind, listening to the sweet noise of his muffled whimpers and moans. dan began to flick at his hard nipples, stimulating himself even more as you mercilessly fucked him.

he deepthroated the dildo like it was the last thing he’d ever do, not even taking a moment to breath. tears streamed down his fae, but that was all part of the fun. the feeling of you filling him up from behind as he helped himself to a mouthful of the toy did wonderful things to his body, sending ropes of cum shooting out of him and creating a small flood underneath him.

his bruised hips slapped into yours at a hypnotizingly quick pace, his choked sobs surrounding the dildo that he forced into his throat and back out again repeatedly. you forced his back into an arch, allowing the strap to slip in at a perfect angle each time. his cries and whimpers went completely unheard, being swallowed by the rubber cock that stuffed his pretty little throat.

you gave his ass a firm slap, causing his body to jerk forward as his tight hold compressed around the strap. saliva dripped from his parted lips all the way down to his neck. he had a hand reached down to abuse his cock as you dealt with his asshole, pumping at it roughly as it leaked from overstimulation.

the intoxicating sound of him gagging on the dildo filled the room, fueling your desire to turn him into a mess by the end of the night. he spurted out thick ropes of his sticky cum, a pool forming on the mattress underneath him. you reached a hand forward and gripped his throat, feeling as it bulged each time he took it back in. 

dan had become a cockdrunk whore in the span of 10 minutes, his heartbea syncing with the rhythm of your rough thrusts. long strands of his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, tears and spit dripping down his face along with it. he pushed his hips back into yours, desperate for the strap to go even deeper into his sore hole.

his cries became more distinctable as you pushed him near another orgasm, forcing his body into submission. he grinded back into the toy, though he didnt know how much more he could take. he had already made such a mess from mindlessly cumming whenever you hit that spot. his body jerked as he tightened his hand around his length, shooting out cum that squirted all over his hand and thighs.

spit bubbled from the dildo as he took the entire thing in his throat, wanting to maximize the sensation of his orgasm. he was so full and fucked out that he didn’t even notice when you pulled out of his throbbing hole, giving his ass a soft pat as you slipped off the strap. he remained in that position, cum still leaking out of his shaft minutes after his climax.

the cock remained in his mouth for reasons that he couldn’t justify. he felt like a total whore at this moment, but that was just the way he liked it.

author's note: i cant believe theres only 5 fics left to go! i swear this season has gone by so quickly. this was supposed to come out sm earlier but today was a busy day :((

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #dan cooper #intruders 2015 #intruders #kinktober #october #halloween #444rockstargf

[sensualnoiree]

The 1st House

personal impression, self-projection, and fresh beginnings

The 1st house in astrology encapsulates the initial impressions one leaves on the world and embodies the essence of self-projection. It serves as a canvas for fresh starts, a birthplace of individuality, and the genesis of personal endeavors.

The Beginning:

Upon birth, we enter a world that shapes the way we present ourselves. The 1st house represents the beginning of our personal story, reflecting our vitality, physical attributes, and our innate approach to life. As you gazed upon the stars on the horizon at your birth, this house imprinted its unique stamp on your existence.

Holistic Influence:

Much like a mold shaping clay, our birth environment—whether it be the town, street, or family dynamics—melds with the celestial energies of the 1st house, influencing our overall persona. The family plays a significant role, setting the stage for the roles we adopt, often driven by the needs of the familial unit.

The Development of Persona:

During childhood, the rising sign marks our first steps in constructing a persona—a mask of sorts—as we navigate the world. The 1st house invites us to immerse ourselves in its elemental essence, envisioning ourselves as children enveloped by these elemental forces. It's where we first grasp the need for a mask and begin constructing one.

The Quest for Identity:

Astrologers debate the importance of the Ascendant against the Sun sign, with some suggesting that the Ascendant steers us toward the promises held by our Sun sign, initiating a quest for our truer selves. This house embodies a journey of self-discovery, a path toward embracing individuality while breaking free from early influences.

Continuous Evolution:

Much like a mask we wear, the 1st house persona is an ever-evolving image, adaptable and changeable as we grow. Planetary transits through this house offer opportunities for reinvention, allowing us to redefine our self-image and reshape our perception of the world around us.

The Canvas of Self-Expression:

Symbolizing continuous refinement of identity, the 1st house empowers us to assert our uniqueness, paving the way for self-expression and new beginnings. It serves as a launching pad for personal projects and ambitions, fostering leadership qualities and a drive to define our own life paths.

Guiding the Inner Quest:

Ultimately, the 1st house guides us on a quest towards realizing our deeper selves, portraying not just personal identity but also influencing our approach to initiating various aspects of our lives. It beckons us to dive into the depths of our being, offering insights into our instinctive reactions and the way we present ourselves to the world upon arrival.

the signs through the 12h

Aries Rising

Individuals with Aries Rising possess an energetic and pioneering spirit. They tend to act impulsively, often diving into situations headfirst without much prior planning. Their swift and direct actions might sometimes come across as aggressive or quick-tempered. They exude an undeniable presence, leaning forward in their physical movements, reflecting their eagerness. Aries Rising individuals cherish independence, disliking restrictions and routines, and always seeking new experiences.

Taurus Rising:

Taurus Rising individuals radiate stability and reliability. They exhibit a strong sense of loyalty and responsibility towards their loved ones. Valuing material possessions and aesthetics, they often collect sentimental items. With a preference for a secure and predictable environment, they create comfortable sanctuaries. Taurus Rising can be stubborn yet affectionate, deeply committed to their relationships and displaying a classic sense of style.

Gemini Rising:

Gemini Rising individuals are communicative and adaptable. Curious and sociable, they enjoy learning and exploring new things. Their quick wit and love for conversations contrast with their relatively short attention spans. They possess two sides—bubbly and talkative or intellectual and occasionally harsh. Excelling in various fields due to their quick grasp of information, they struggle with superficiality or distraction.

Cancer Rising:

Cancer Rising individuals are gentle and nurturing, exhibiting a sensitive aura. Cautious in new situations, they take time to warm up to others and highly value security. They are deeply attached to their home and sentimental possessions, creating safe havens for themselves. While protective and caring, they might appear moody or overly sensitive due to their strong emotional connections.

Leo Rising:

Leo Rising individuals are generous, proud, and expressive, exuding confidence. They naturally draw attention and are seen as leaders, conscious of their impact on others. Loyal and protective, they might also display quick temper and pride. Thriving on appreciation and love, Leos have a strong need for recognition and exhibit a deep passion for their pursuits.

Virgo Rising:

Virgo Rising individuals are practical, analytical, and attentive to details. They maintain high standards for themselves and others, often striving for perfection. Their critical nature might pose challenges in relationships. Despite being reserved, they become loyal and steadfast friends once comfortable.

Libra Rising:

People with Libra Rising are charming, refined, and cooperative. They dislike disorder and strive for balance, often compromising to maintain harmony. They might face challenges in personal relationships due to their inclination towards aesthetics and a struggle to balance self-interest with the needs of others.

Scorpio Rising:

Scorpio Rising individuals are secretive and possess great determination. They have a fascination with emotions and healing, often displaying a strong intuition. Despite appearing calm, they are highly emotional inside, with a penetrating gaze that sees beyond superficiality.

Sagittarius Rising:

Sagittarius Rising individuals are idealistic, outgoing, and adventurous. They're interested in distant places and cultures but dislike focusing on details. Their charisma and curiosity make them great conversationalists. Despite feeling collective pain, they prioritize survival and may mask their emotional depth.

Capricorn Rising:

Capricorn Rising individuals are sensitive and ambitious. They appear competent and reliable, focusing on their image and working hard towards their goals with determination. Despite appearing composed, they might worry about the future and often sacrifice personal attachments for larger goals.

Aquarius Rising:

Aquarius Rising individuals are altruistic, independent, and intellectual. They value humanitarianism and new ideas but might shock others with their unconventional opinions. They are good at organizing and attract friends easily due to their open-mindedness. Often feeling "different," they may struggle to express their concerns or feel misunderstood.

Pisces Rising:

Pisces Rising individuals are sensitive and compassionate, with a dreamy and artistic nature. Highly empathetic, they absorb energies around them, feeling overwhelmed at times. Seeking stability in relationships, they might struggle with decision-making and facing harsh realities due to their changing and sometimes impulsive nature.

For more info check out my blog in the bio or my insta 🤸🏿‍♀️

#astrology #astro #astro notes #astro observations #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #1st house #1stHouse #1h #sensualnoiree

[sapphicromanoffxo]

Ugly Consequences | n.r. x w.m.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: angst, smut, strap on use, degradation, spanking, face slap, rough sex

Summary: based on a request "A WandaNat one shot or drabble, they had and misunderstanding and it lead them to a big fight to an angry sex"

A/N: idk what happened here but it happened. Sorry if there are any mistakes and lmk what y'all think. :)

╰┈➤ Masterlist

In the Avengers compound, Tony Stark, ever the party instigator, decided it was time for a party. Despite the collective groans from the team, they couldn't deny that Tony always stocked the place with the finest booze for a truly epic night.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the rest of the Avengers, Natasha and Wanda had been quietly nurturing a secret relationship. They opted to keep it low, safeguarding their newfound romance and using this time to navigate the complexities of their relationship.

The relationship can be considered as delicate as both of them did not have a good history with relationship, especially with Natasha, and diving into it especially with their rough past is tricky. They have to be understanding of one another and learn each other's trust. While Wanda yearned to reveal their love openly, Natasha held reservations, solely concerned for Wanda's safety.

Natasha's protective instincts clashed with Wanda's fierce independence, leading to heated arguments. This lover's quarrel simmered for days, creating an underlying tension that hung heavy between them.

Despite the disagreement, they continued to share a room, train together, and steadfastly watch each other's backs. Yet, an urgent need to resolve their conflicting perspectives lingered beneath the surface, demanding immediate attention.

The day before the much-anticipated party, Natasha received an urgent call from Fury, summoning her for an unexpected surveillance mission. She assured that team that she'd return for the festivities the next night and would bring Maria along.

Wanda couldn't hide her disappointment, her expression a mix of frustration and longing as she reluctantly bid farewell to her lover.

As the night of revelry unfolded, an unexpectedly bold and rebellious streak ignited within Wanda. Embracing a daring fashion choice, she donned a provocative ensemble, accentuating her figure with a backless, black dress that revealed her chest and showcasing her toned legs. Choosing to accompany Vision, she engaged in playful flirtations, fueled by a sense of defiance stemming from Natasha's reluctance to go public with their relationship.

Unbeknownst to Wanda, Natasha had returned earlier than expected, slipping away to her room to shower and change. Her attire was a tantalizing half-revealed top teasing with a glimpse of cleavage, a calculated choice intended to captivate Wanda's attention and perhaps pave the way for reconciliation.

Natasha made her way down stairs and was greeted with guests who were enjoying themselves with the company of colleagues. Her search for Wanda amidst the crowd proved fruitless. With a glass of wine in her hand, she was prompted to engage Clint in casual conversation, discussing recent missions and various topics to catch up.

Clint, ever observant, leaned in with a curious revelation to an unaware spy, "You won't believe it, but our android and witch have been quite cozy since this party started. Look at them, standing so close. Vision seems to have captured Wanda's attention, it's a surprise, isn't it?" he remarked, drawing Natasha's attention towards the duo.

Indeed, there they stood, sharing laughter at God knows what, and Wanda occasionally leaning in to rest her head on Vision's chest. Natasha couldn't decipher the nature of Wanda's actions which tainted her mood and made her blood boil. She questioned whether Wanda's behavior was intentional or not.

Natasha chose not to comment as she might say something that might come out differently which could jeopardize their secret relationship. It is not her intention to keep it a secret per se, but she wants to have Wanda only for herself. Why does the world or anybody need to know that Wanda belonged to her and hers alone? Instead, she just continued piling up her vodka shots until she got the courage to approach the witch.

Wanda remained oblivious to Natasha's presence, completely absorbed in her flirtatious banter with Vision. Startled, she turned as Natasha's deep voice sounded from behind her.

"Vision, may I speak with Wanda for a moment?

The android nodded affirmatively. "Certainly, Agent Romanoff," Vision responded before stepping back, allowing the impending conversation to unfold.

Anxiety and nerves twisted within Wanda. Her self-assured facade wavered, uncertain whether her flirtatious antics were ill-conceived and would deepen the rift with Natasha. Despite the inner turmoil, she maintained an outwardly composed demeanor as Natasha positioned herself in front of her, her breath reeked with alcohol and cigarette.

"I noticed you're getting cozy with Vision. Is there something you'd like to share, Wanda?" Natasha lit a cigarette in her mouth, her tone hid the storm brewing within her. Yet, Wanda sensed the incoming. She scrambled to devise a strategy, searching for an exit from this situation.

"I don't see an issue here, Natasha. Vision and I were merely chatting." Wanda's attempt at denial, a feeble effort to skirt the truth, leaving her internally bracing for the consequences of her words.

Natasha retorted with a mocking tone, "Well, if I caught my own girlfriend flirting with someone else, I doubt I'd be interrogating her about it, would I?"

Wanda's reaction was a derisive scoff. "Oh, the nerve you have to bring that up when you're the one keeping our relationship under wraps. If I want to flirt, I will. I'm not yours and it seems I am only your fuck toy."

Natasha maintained a stoic facade, masking the raging turmoil within. So, this was what Wanda was playing at, to use her flirtation with Vision as a means to taunt Natasha's emotions and deepen their disagreement.

Deeply affected, Natasha struggled to contain her emotions, but she refused to let them show. Her decision to keep their relationship being weaponized against her. But Natasha had enough of this and her patience is wearing thin. If Wanda wants to act like a brat, Natasha will damn make sure to give her a lesson in order for her to learn her place. Natasha grabbed Wanda's arm a little too hard and instructed, "A fuck toy, huh? Go to my room and I want you naked when I arrive. I will be there in 10 minutes."

Wanda stood in stunned silence as Natasha swiftly walked away from her, leaving her standing in the corner amid the bustling crowd, feeling like a lost dog. The weight of the situation dawned upon her, compelling Wanda to shut her eyes tightly, seeking a moment's respite to gather her scattered thoughts.

As she was walking up to Natasha's room, she was contemplating the consequences of her action and her thoughts were filled with different scenarios that could happen behind closed doors. None of them has a semblance of positivity and but rather a grim possibility of a punishment.

Wanda wasted no time and immediately stripped the moment she got inside of the room. Her heart is hammering wildly out of her chest. Each passing moment intensified the twisting knots in her stomach as she awaited Natasha's arrival.

Choosing to kneel, she hoped to convey her readiness to bend on Natasha's will. If she showed that she will be compliant and obedient, it could potentially minimise the punishment that she'll receive.

The door finally opened and Natasha was pleased to see Wanda kneeling on the floor. Despite the sight, Natasha's satisfaction was overshadowed by a simmering, uncontrollable rage within her.

Natasha walked towards Wanda and crouched down at her level. "Hmm. Is there any particular reason why you are kneeling? Do you have something more to say?" Natasha inquired, this is also to suss out Wanda's motive.

"I would like to apologise for my actions tonight. I crossed a line and didn't consider your feelings."

Natasha was unfazed with what Wanda had said. Truth be told she doesn't give a flying fuck about Wanda's reasons or explanations.

"It's nice to hear that you are feeling sorry. But just so you know, I am not looking for an explanation nor an apology."

There's a dark aura that Natasha carried with her that made Wanda tremble to the core. Natasha wasn't one to scream or lash out without reason, yet in this moment, the perfect justification lingered. Wanda teetered between relief that Natasha wasn't visibly reacting and a gripping anticipation of Natasha's potential outburst.

"Come here and lay down in my lap instead."

As Wanda positioned herself across Natasha's thighs, she couldn't help but notice the lack of endearment in Natasha's voice, setting the stage for a possible confrontation.

With Wanda's ass on display, Natasha caressed the expanse of the exposed skin lovingly but the touch carried a weight on them.

"I thought tonight we could have a bit of fun after all these arguments that we've been having. I was expecting that you'd feel the same knowing that it had been an exhausting week for the both of us."

Oh Christ, here we go, Wanda thought to herself. Wanda braced herself, a sinking feeling gripping her as she prepared for the impending conversation.

"However what I found instead was my girlfriend flirting with a member of the team. Did it make me mad? Terribly so. Was I jealous? Maybe. But you know what I felt most? Disappointment."

Tears welled up in Wanda's eyes as Natasha's words cut deep, piercing her heart like sharp knives. Understanding dawned on Wanda that Natasha's anger was justified, especially considering the serious repercussions of Wanda's actions, ones that now placed her in this situation. The weight of Natasha's disappointment felt palpable and Wanda struggled fiercely to hold back the flood of sobs that threatened to overwhelm her in that very moment.

A sudden pain reverberated throughout Wanda's body the moment Natasha's left, dominant hand spanked her buttcheck. It came like lightning, startling her reverie.

"That's for being a selfish brat."

Smack.

"I have been very patient with you."

Smack.

Natasha's voice is now growing darker, threatening, and dangerous.

"I try to be understanding but it seems you don't care about that."

Smack.

"I am so fucking disappointed in you."

Smack.

"You didn't even think about what I would feel."

Smack.

"But instead, you prance around,"

Smack.

"like a fucking slut!"

Smack.

Each hit almost never landed in the same spot and Wanda is certain that her ass will be bruised after. The stinging pain triggered her tears but what hurts her more is Natasha's anger that translated through her words. She can't bear to hear them any longer but she will endure the pain for Natasha.

Natasha caressed the expanse of Wanda's ass, her hand travelled down and groaned when she felt Wanda's dripping pussy, "Look at that, a little spanking made you wet."

Wanda squealed when she felt Natasha's fingers playing with her slippery slit, teasing her clit in a painful way.

"So pathetic. So needy."

Smack.

"Get off of me and get on all fours on the bed. I want your ass up."

The witch scrambled off Natasha's lap and positioned herself in the middle of the bed. She was trying to steady her erratic breathing but the anticipation of what Natasha would be doing next is not helping at all.

Natasha opted to not shed her clothing, she went to their bedside table and retrieved her strap on and handcuffs. She contemplated using a rope instead, but she knew handcuffs were going to hurt better. After all, this night is not about getting pleasure, it's about teaching a lesson with an infliction of pain.

With the harness situated on her waist, Natasha then grabbed Wanda wrists and bound them with the handcuffs.

"Scream as loud as you want, make everyone know how much of a slut you are."

Natasha did not waste any more second and penetrated Wanda's aching pussy in one swift move. This caused Wanda to cry out in pain for the sudden intrusion. She could beg for Natasha to be gentle, but she doubts that Natasha will listen to her plea.

"You will take whatever I give you 'cause this is what whores like you deserve. If you think you're my fuck toy, I'm going to treat you like one!"

The sounds that Wanda made are a mixture of moan from pleasure and pain. It's all overwhelming for her. She just wants to beg and apologise even more just so she can have Natasha's mercy. If this is the consequence of being a brat, then she might as well take it. She can't upset Natasha even more than she is and she truly regrets what she has done. The flirting act was a plan that went down the drain and with her on it. Now she's suffering Natasha's brash reaction to it.

Natasha was relentless in pounding Wanda from behind. One way or another, pleasure is out of the window for tonight. She has no plans on making Wanda orgasm as it should be willingly given to a person who deserves it. Pain on the other hand, is what Natasha can perfectly administer.

"Is that what I get, huh? Just because I can't give you what you want, you can just parade your pathetic ass around just to get back at me!?" Natasha fisted Wanda's hair and grabbed her closer to her chest.

"After all I've done for you, this is what I get instead? Have I not been enough? Was my love and devotion not enough for you!?" Natasha continued her verbal assault, pouring over Wanda like a damn storm drowning her further into her misery and regret.

"Please, Natasha! I'm so sorry! I won't do it again. Please, listen to me!"

The spy pushed Wanda on the bed, removed the handcuffs that bound her wrists and flipped her in order for them to be facing each other. Natasha's left hand, charged with raging emotion, swiftly cuts through space. The movement, sharp and decisive, arcs toward Wanda's face with a resounding thwack as palm meets flesh, the impact echoing through the room.

The force of the slap sent Wanda reeling, leaving her frozen in shock as she remained rooted to the spot. With a gasp, she instinctively grasped her right cheek, feeling the sting of the impact reverberate through her. Tears flowed freely, tracing a path down her face, mingling with the shock and confusion that consumed her.

Natasha, typically composed and collected, had never resorted to physicality, regardless of how hard and complicated the situation is. The only time that Natasha would hurt her is through spanking, but never done out of pure anger.

In that moment, Natasha's demeanor remained unyielding, devoid of any hint of regret for her actions, leaving Wanda even more disheartened. Every fiber on Wanda's being yearned to close the emotional distance between and even extend her countless apologies. The realisation struck hard—Natasha's lack of remorse was mirrored by Wanda's own neglect of Natasha's emotions.

Natasha penetrated Wanda once again, pistoning with too much force, making the bed creak from the brutal pounding from the redhead.

"Pretty little thing like you need to be put in place!"

"Natasha, oh God. Ahh!"

The pleasure that Wanda felt is erratic as she felt Natasha deeper within her. She damn well knows Natasha's capabilities in bed as she experienced them first hand. However, Natasha's current roughness also drove Wanda further into her pleasure. Maybe she's deranged for feeling like this but it's wrong. She shouldn't settle on being treated roughly but what can she do when she has hurt the person in charge of her sole pleasure.

"Do you think you deserve to cum,huh?" Natasha's left hand forced its way to Wanda's throat.

As tears streamed down her cheeks, Wanda's safe word lingered on the tip of her tongue. However, she instead attempted to extend a trembling hand toward Natasha's face, seeking solace. But before her touch could land, an abrupt, forceful blow knocked Wanda's hands off.

This made Natasha snap out from her pensive state and immediately pulled her strap out of Wanda.

"Fuck! Fuck! This is so wrong."

Natasha staggered backward, her steps faltering until she tumbled off the bed, the impact resonating with a loud thud against her backside. Her head is suddenly aching from the amount of alcohol running inside her system.

Despite the strains and soreness rippling through Wanda's body, she instinctively sprang from the bed, urgency propelling her towards Natasha, who now crouched on the floor.

"Hey, hey. Take it easy, my love. Look at me, please," Wanda's voice softened into a gentle, soothing melody, a plea for Natasha to anchor herself.

"Please, don't touch me."

Wanda, though her mind raced with conflicting emotions, gradually eased her touch no matter how her mind was reeling against it. She didn't want to aggravate Natasha and decided to do what Natasha wants.

A palpable tension hung in the air, their silence pierced only by Natasha's labored breaths. It seemed the gravity of the recent events had finally dawned upon her, immobilizing her with a stark realisation of her impulsive behavior. Waves of shame engulfed her as she recalled how she laid a hand on Wanda. Despite this, Wanda still sat on the floor with her, willing to offer comfort.

Natasha rose from the floor, swiftly gathering the blanket draped over her bed. Unfolding it, she gently enveloped Wanda's shivering form, tucking the edges snugly around her to offer warmth and comfort. Natasha's actions, spurred by concern, sought to shield Wanda from the cold, a gesture of care in response to Wanda's trembling.

Unexpectedly, Natasha hoisted Wanda off the floor, taking her by surprise. Anticipating being placed back onto the bed, Wanda found herself instead being guided by Natasha towards the door, heading in the direction of her own bedroom.

"Natasha?" Wanda asked, completely confused by the turn of events.

Silence persisted as Natasha remained unresponsive. Undeterred, she proceeded towards Wanda's room, swinging the door open before gently settling Wanda onto her own bed.

"Natasha, please talk to me." Wanda, still wrapped in a blanket, tried once again to reach out, wanting to resolve the issue between them.

"You should sleep here until we figure out what we want." Natasha's deep and serious voice made Wanda sit up.

"No, that's not what I want. We can talk now so we can put this behind us." Wanda insisted.

Natasha shook her head and noted, "I physically hurt you, Wanda. Your cheek is now turning purple." Her voice was laced with regret and shame.

"I hurt you first, Natasha." Wanda acknowledged her own fault. None of this would have happened if she didn't choose to be a bitch to Natasha.

"That doesn't justify what I have just done."

With that, Natasha stood up and made her way to the door.

"Natasha! Please, stay. I need you. I love you!"

Wanda begged for Natasha to stay but all she heard was the soft click of the door. Leaving her alone with her heavy heart.

Thanks for the request! ☺️ @lizziescigar 🫶

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha x wanda #wandanat fanfiction #marvel #wlw

[cantsayidont]

For a long time, the main impetus for DC reprinting any its voluminous back catalog was some promotional or licensing tie-in: a movie, a TV show, some merchandise they were trying to push, or just a popular ongoing book. Given how prominently Dr. Fate was featured in the recent BLACK ADAM movie, therefore, it's surprising and somewhat disheartening that DC didn't take the opportunity to do some kind of greatest hits compilation for the character, who was certainly the best thing about that mostly terrible film.

This is especially unfortunate because you could fit quite a bit of Dr. Fate's Silver Age and Bronze Age non-JSA appearances in a single volume, starting with the two 1965 SHOWCASE team-ups with Hourman shown above, by Gardner Fox and Murphy Anderson. There are also a number of later team-ups with Superman and Batman:

Fate then got a couple of solo features in the '70s:

Kubert cover notwithstanding, the 1ST ISSUE SPECIAL story, which is written by Marty Pasko, has some really outstanding early Walt Simonson art, while the SECRET ORIGINS OF SUPER-HEROES story has an eight-page retelling of Fate's origin, narrated by Kent Nelson's wife Inza, by the ALL-STAR team of Paul Levitz and Joe Staton.

In 1982, Doctor Fate got his own eight-page backup feature in, weirdly enough, THE FLASH #306–313. Despite what a couple of the covers imply, there wasn't a team-up between the Flash and Fate (who in those days still existed on separate parallel Earths); the Fate strip was just an unrelated second feature.

This strip, written by Marty Pasko and Steve Gerber with spectacular art by Keith Giffen and Larry Mahlstedt, presents an array of interesting ideas (some of which obviously paved the way for Giffen's 1987 revamp). Pasko had already established (in the 1975 1ST ISSUE SPECIAL story) that Doctor Fate wasn't exactly Kent Nelson: He was really the ancient Lord of Order Nabu, the entity who trained Nelson in the magical arts, who possessed Nelson's body whenever he put on the Helm of Fate. In other words, the Dr. Fate of these stories isn't so much a man wearing a magical helmet as a magical helmet wearing a man. Nabu has made both Kent and Inza ageless — they both appear about 25, but by this time, they're really in their 60s — but allows them little real control of their lives. Kent has more or less resigned himself to it, but Inza is feeling the strain of being trapped in a magical menage à trois with her husband and an inhuman entity that has little regard for Kent's welfare and even less for hers. Nabu, for his part, seems to exist in a state of constant mystical urgency in which human frailties are an unaffordable distraction.

This could have been really compelling, and it's both graphically interesting and quite strange, but all that is a lot to squeeze into eight-page installments, and having them crammed in the back of one of DC's most conventional superhero books was obviously not optimal. It was also having to compete for Giffen and Mahlstedt's attention with LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES, which I assume was why the Fate strip was dropped after only eight installments.

To everyone's surprise, there was even a Doctor Fate action figure in 1984 as part of the Kenner Super Powers line. This came with a little minicomic, which to my knowledge has never been reprinted:

All of this stuff would add up to something in the realm of 230 pages, which would easily fit into a single trade paperback collection with a digestible price point. Maddeningly, DC has already done the color remastering for roughly three-fifths of this material, so even that probably wouldn't be a huge chore (although the Giffen/Mahlstedt stuff, which has a lot of color holds and graphic effects, really calls for more care in remastering than DC has tended to give its older material of late.)

#comics #doctor fate #dr fate #showcase #world's finest comics #1st issue special #secret origins #dc comics presents #the brave and the bold #brave and the bold #the flash #gardner fox #murphy anderson #denny o'neil #dick dillin #paul levitz #joe staton #mike nasser #walt simonson #martin pasko #steve gerber #keith giffen #larry mahlstedt #alex saviuk #ross andru #dick giordano #neal adams #jim aparo #don newton #hourman

[rainydetectiveglitter]

Your Human Design Profiles

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Human design charts have gained popularity as a unique approach to understanding oneself. Rooted in astrology, the I Ching, Kabbalah, and other systems, these charts offer insights into personality traits, strengths, and potential life paths. While some find them enlightening and resonant, others may view them skeptically due to their complex and multifaceted nature. Ultimately, opinions on human design charts vary, and individuals should explore them with an open mind and consider them as one of many tools for self-discovery.

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Find out your profile here:

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🚀 1/3: Investigator/Martyr With the essence of exploration, the Investigator/Martyr profile seeks to understand life through a lens of experimentation and courage. Balanced between introspection and action, this profile dances with the mysteries of existence, uncovering truths that propel growth.

🌟 1/4: Investigator/Opportunist A harmonious blend of curiosity and adaptability, the Investigator/Opportunist profile embraces the dance of life's opportunities. Curving between reflection and spontaneity, it navigates the world with an open heart, collecting experiences that shape its unique path.

🎭 2/4: Hermit/Opportunist A cosmic fusion of introspection and spontaneity, the Hermit/Opportunist profile thrives in the delicate balance between solitude and connection. Embracing the depths of inner wisdom while engaging with the external world, it weaves a tapestry of profound insights.

🌌 2/5: Hermit/Heretic Guided by the realms of knowledge and transformation, the Hermit/Heretic profile embarks on a journey of understanding and change. It moves between solitude and rebellion, unveiling wisdom that challenges the norms and beckons growth.

🌀 3/5: Martyr/Heretic A dance between transformation and rebellion, the Martyr/Heretic profile ventures into uncharted territories of change and authenticity. Balanced between sacrifice and assertion, it ignites a revolution within, challenging the status quo.

🌄 3/6: Martyr/Role Model The Martyr/Role Model profile navigates the terrain of sacrifice and guidance, embodying the essence of a transformative leader. It finds purpose in inspiring others while embracing the challenges that pave the way for collective growth.

🔥 4/6: Opportunist/Role Model With the fire of spontaneity and leadership, the Opportunist/Role Model profile blazes a trail of inspiration and action. Balancing between flexibility and guidance, it weaves connections that empower both self and others.

🌟 4/1: Opportunist/Investigator The Opportunist/Investigator profile dances between adaptability and exploration, driven by the desire to learn and experience. It embodies the art of seizing opportunities while delving into the depths of understanding.

🌀 5/1: Heretic/Investigator Rooted in transformation and exploration, the Heretic/Investigator profile journeys through the realms of rebellion and understanding. It challenges conventions and seeks knowledge, igniting change with a quest for truth.

🌌 5/2: Heretic/Hermit Guided by the fusion of transformation and introspection, the Heretic/Hermit profile explores the depths of wisdom and authenticity. It unearths truths that challenge norms and embraces solitude as a source of growth.

🌄 6/2: Role Model/Hermit The Role Model/Hermit profile radiates a blend of guidance and introspection, embracing the role of a transformative teacher. Balancing between leadership and solitude, it imparts wisdom while delving into the mysteries of the self.

🔥 6/3: Role Model/Martyr With the fire of leadership and courage, the Role Model/Martyr profile paves the way for transformation and growth. It combines guidance and sacrifice, embodying the essence of a visionary leader.

Disclaimer: Human design profiles offer insights but are not predictive. They are tools for self-awareness and personal growth.

#human design chart #human design profile #human design #1/3 #1/4 #2/4 #2/5 #3/5 #3/6 #4/6 #4/1 #5/1 #5/2 #6/2 #6/3

[ingoodjesst]

i watched "godzilla minus one", and it was pretty solid for my first time watching a godzilla movie!! beyond enjoying the action that effectively conveyed the sheer scale and impact of godzilla's movement and destruction, i found the themes engaging too. we see (non-blood) families form and repair their homes and heal, we see ex-navy try to disarm the destructive weapons they set, and we see koichi shikishima the ex-kamikaze pilot grapple with his ptsd and survivor's guilt.

the fact godzilla was predominantly an allegory for the trauma of war was an interesting take, though of course the trauma of nuclear warfare persists as a motif. but the theme that most stood out to me was the challenge to this cultural idea that dying for a cause is somehow noble rather than just dying.

when shikishima returns to (the rubble of) his home, he is immediately admonished by sumiko for deserting his duty to die and returning dishonorably. he then struggles with his cowardice over and over again, afraid of making emotional connections when he resists letting noriko into his life, rejects akiko calling him "dad", and - during a traumatic episode - even briefly denies the fact that he's alive at all. but when faced with the consequences of suppressing his trauma until it - godzilla - arrives larger and more destructive than before, he finally begins to open up. i particularly liked the sequence of shots during the scene where shikishima confesses the burdens he's been carrying to her. it transitions from individual shot/reverse-shots of the two, to sharing a frame, to finally being in focus together as they manage to connect for the first time.

in the process of fighting godzilla, shikishima realizes the "honorable" answer is not to die for vengeance, but to face your remorse head on while choosing to live. because in a way, choosing to die would still be running away from the struggle of accepting your past and fighting for a brighter future. rather than dying and evading the consequences thereafter (as the japanese government demanded), it is braver to embrace the inherent value of human life, including your own, and whatever comes with it.

even the fact that [spoilers] godzilla is defeated but not annihilated reflects the reality that trauma usually sticks around, able to flare up again; it's just that you learn how to carry it with you, especially with the support of the community and family around you.

i just really love that the story subverts the setup that shikishima should finish his internal war by sacrificing himself as he "should've" in the actual war. instead, through ingenuity and camaraderie, the real triumph is learning to honor the fallen not by mindlessly throwing away his life for those who perished, but by deliberately, collectively paving a future for those who survive.

all that said, i do find it possibly convenient that the story sidesteps the issue of what japan was actually fighting for in ww2 and the atrocities committed by the japanese empire. the movie does take care to distinguish between the japanese government and the private citizens who take up the fight against godzilla. it helps for sure, since it allows our cast to criticize the government's decisions. however, i can't help but wonder if that still makes the historical narrative seem a bit too clean, especially when the veterans claim this time they can make a difference, when uh... idk if helping japan actually win the war would've been the BEST...?? generously, that might not have been their exact intended meaning, but it does feel oddly framed lol. also how lucky is it that seemingly none of the veterans who volunteer are complicit in any of the countless war crimes committed by the japanese army lol

also the women in this film mostly exist in maternal or literal child roles to support the men's growth lol and it's a shame their stories don't get equal examination, but at least the emotional vulnerability still feels real and i called her surviving and we take those bc i woulda been EVEN MADDER OTHERWISE ok !!!!!

besides those issues, i would hardly say the film is difficult to predict - it's fairly straightforward and even the setup for its subversions is not too hard to catch. but i don't think that made it necessarily less compelling or the themes less resonant. it's hard not to appreciate how the movie wants you to see the value in life and believe in the future. because no matter what pain you may carry, you don't have to confront it alone.

#godzilla #godzilla minus one #godzilla analysis #movie analysis #my jessays #godzilla spoilers #godzilla minus one spoilers

[highpriestess13]

Collective Reading

I see you receiving or giving a message (left and right ear may be itchy). You could be moving towards a new beginning, plan and/ or project. In the month of April, do expect rapid and quick change(s). Some of you could be preparing for a move or may be needing to because it’s something that’s going to happen fairly quickly. Aries & Sagittarius are significant but heavy energy on Aries season. 111/1111 is your confirmation. You could be a leader or may be stepping into this position whether it’s in general, spiritual and or job.. I’m hearing it’s more physical so someone could be getting a raise or promotion to be a leader… maybe team lead or you’re already training for this position. I feel like life has been preparing you for a long time to step into this leading position… 69 is confirmation. It’s time to leave certain habits and things behind in order for you to take lead & charge of your own life and also others. You’ll be the example for everyone whether it’s people you cross paths with or people who are already in your life. In the month of April or in the duration of Aries season you’re going to be guided through your journey/ path. Some of you are messengers & you’re needing to relay messages to people in some way. I also feel like it’s “sending a message” someone could be sending you a message or this may be you OR spirit. I see healing being done especially when it comes to the inner child or a masculine figure in your life. Someone is creating a path for you or this may be you taking a control in a situation to pave a path for yourself. If you’ve been praying, hoping and wishing for something, best believe it’s coming towards… this may happen within days or between cancer/ Leo season. Whatever this may be it’s going to bring a lot of happiness and positivity for you and your family. Someone may be shocked that something happened either quickly or unexpectedly. For some, this may be a father or father figure reaching out to you unexpectedly especially if you haven’t spoken to them in a while but for others, this may be an unexpected increase. Possibly an increase in followers/ following.. I’m hearing “rain” like something is going to be pouring in. There may also be a lot of revelations and chaos happening around you but I see you coming out unscathed. On another note, someone could be getting locked up or may experience purgatory especially within the mind. I’m hearing “fall back on”. Someone could be falling back on their word(s), thoughts and/or past actions. Judgement will be or has been casted upon someone due to past transgressions to cause heavy burdens for someone. Someone may have thought they got away with something but they didn’t.. archangel Michael and Gabriel are significant especially Archangel Gabriel. This person could be a Sagittarius, Scorpio or Aquarius( heavy). In love, someone isn’t seeing eye to eye with someone could be with a friend or lover so instead they’re going to be giving themselves that self love/ care. Someone may feel like something is/ was unfair and unhealthy however, they still chose to stay with that person which was only causing stagnancy and delays. Soon someone is going to wake up to the realization that they or this situation was only hurting them more than helping them. 77 & 97 are significant too. Someone is now contemplating or working on themselves until they get really clear on what it is that they truly want and desire but it’s tough for this person because there’s so many options or so many things that this person is going to have to consider. 55 is confirmation, you may get a text from this person too or someone’s phone is going to be ringing/ dinging like crazy 😂. Someone has been stalking someone constantly… it’s giving obsession but I also feel like someone has been looking into their past and seeing the mess they may have caused which is also causing them to grieve over what has already happened. This person is either a water sign or has heavy water placements. It’s like someone’s wanting or trying to fix what’s already broken, someone’s in their feels 🫤.

Also, I want to add that whoever this King of Cups is, they’ve been searching for their Queen, their other half but can’t find her, so he’s feeling like a hopeless romantic. For others, this person can’t seem to find anyone like you. You were and always be a one of a kind gem 💎. This person wishes you all the best. “Someone like You” by Adele is coming to mind.

#fypシ #tarotcommunity #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarot #fypage #tumblr fyp #tarot reader #daily tarot #pick a deck #divineguidance #tarot divination #tarot of the day #dailymessage #tarot deck #divination #general readings #general reading #message for the collective #free readings #free tarot #fyp #collective reading #tarot spread #tarot spreads #tarot witch #witchblr #witches of tumblr #witch community #divine messages

[makingspiritualityreal]

Jupiter Nakshatras - Ready to Die to be Good

This is a strongly repeating, heroic theme, that we can see as a part of evolutionary journey of Jupiterian natives, as they wrestle with their own fate, initially consumed by their own powerful nature.

We first have to distinguish that all Jupiter Nakshatras (Punarvasu, Vishakha, Purva Bhadrapada) come after Rahu, and thus are a direct consequence, a natural following of Rahu.

That process of transformation from Rahu to Jupiter represents a crossing of energy and revitalization. By the time we reach Jupiter, we are reborn, ultimately expressing the energy of what Rahu desired the best, as we approach the mature, self controlled Saturnian stage.

But before we experience rebirth, we must surrender ourselves to death. We must relinquish all the excessiveness and kill the overblown egos we acquired in the previous Rahu stage. We must take ownership of our mistakes and our flawed human nature. And that can be achieved by one decision only, passing a test of choosing death over making yet another mistake, which the Rahu stage was so full of.

This is where the Jupiterian goodness is born. In the feeling of “I would rather die than live lowering myself, being less than I could be”. In readiness to sacrifice everything, just to do the right thing. Of course, it doesn’t always necessarily go as far as a physical death, but the perspective of loss needs to be significant enough to feel like the person is relinquishing their former life. By the time our Jupiter matures and transitions into Saturn, we make these sort of sacrifices habitually, knowing we will always bounce back from them.

Of all the 3 Nakshatras, Purva Bhadrapada endures the most tests and suffers the most due to Saturnian influence. In Punarvasu, the test is about being forced into a Lunar responsiveness to another, or the collective’s needs, being a selfless symbol for the masses as opposed to looking out just for one’s own gain as Mercury would. In Vishakha, the Venus influence creates dependency earlier on in life only for one to transform into paving one’s own path, as more individual blessings come to the Native with time; they gain a wealth of knowledge, resources and influence from a vast circle of people. But in Purva Bhadrapada, Saturn puts an extreme amount of pressure, making the native suffer until they break into choosing righteous death, knowing the blow will be fatal but secretly looking forward to being released. This is perceived by the native as atonement, as often the difficult circumstances pushed down on them are a result of their own past scheming or cowardice (Shatabisha), causing harm that one irresponsibly participated in. This way, they close the karmic cycle, willingly paying the consequences of all their past deeds.

Jupiterian natives, Purva Bhadrapada in its extreme form especially, can live a life of torment until they make peace with having to pay the price for their actions. They can possess all the physical riches yet feel miserable with no escape, until they feel they can give back.

Jupiter is the stage, where a human being transcends being an animal occupied with nothing but its own survival, and earns the possession of a soul.

#astrology #vedic astrology #jyotish #making spirituality real #jupiter #nakshatras #vedic astro observations

[downthetubes]

Two-Fisted action aplenty! Codename: Warlord collected

A new 200-page collection of the top-secret adventures of Warlord comic star Peter Flint is about to hit bookshops, with Codename: Warlord, on sale soon

A new 200-page collection of the top-secret adventures of Warlord comic star Peter Flint is about to hit bookshops, with Codename: Warlord, on sale from 14th February 2024. Back in 1974, publisher DC Thomson launched Warlord, bringing a weekly anthology of action and adventure to comic readers across the UK and further afield. It was considered groundbreaking at the time, paving the way for…

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#Codename Warlord #DC Thmoson Media #downthetubes News #War Comics #Warlord

[mha-grievances]

Another character I’m interested in your opinion on. And if you already did her, feel free to say so.

I love Uraraka as a character and, even if the show itself fades into obscurity,I’m not sure that will go away, she leaves that positive of an impact on me. But to be honest, I feel opposite about certain things with her as opposed to how the fandom thinks of her. And do you have any ideas on how to improve or different ideas for her?

There’s one thing I still don’t get or understand, and maybe you can help explain (or maybe nothing to explain at all). In the beginning of the manga, Uraraka states she went to U.A so she can get a good, paying job for her parents. (And I think that’s such a realistic and relatable motive).

But after the Overhaul raid, there’s that scene where Uraraka says she wants to help people when she’s talking to Aizawa, which overtime paved the way to “Who Helps The Heroes When They Need Help?” (Something that’s also completely in character of her.) But I heard from a lot of fans saying how that’s peak character development for her, changing her focus being a hero for money to wanting to help others. Even Horikoshi went in on this, using Aizawa to comment on how Uraraka “grew up” after the 1-A vs 1-B fight.

And I’m over here thinking, “…has anyone been paying attention to her at all?” Our introduction to her is literally her saving a stranger from face planting just because. She’s always shown to want to care and look out for others. The flashback of her as a child showed helping people and making them happy and smiling is in her nature. She wants to be a RESCUE hero. This isn’t a shift in her character whatsoever, it’s been established from the first season who she is. Why are we all of a sudden treating like it’s something revolutionary? What’s wrong with her wanting to have both goals?

Another thing I feel in the minority about is her dynamic with Toga.

I hate it. Both Toga and their “relationship”, whatever that is.

I don’t understand how they are suppose to be each other’s foils. All I see in Toga is a collection of fetishes that’s given a name and a sad backstory that is suppose to shield her for her selfish desires and psychotic behavior, but fails miserably. The only connection they have is crushing on the same guy. And because Toga’s crush is the only thing she has that makes her relevant at all, Uraraka is forced into the situations where Midoriya is the ONLY thing they talk about, further pushing that she’s nothing more than a love interest. So if anyone should be blamed for Uraraka for becoming nothing but a L.I, you should turn your frustrations to Toga. Uraraka has been trying to become more than just a girl with a crush on a boy.

Anyway, do you have ideas on what can be done to improve Uraraka? Such as have it to where instead of finding inspiration solely in Midoriya, she learns and finds inspiration from others? Or viceversa: we see more instances of people being motivated and look to her for guidance? Should she have a different villian? Things like that.

As a character, I like Ochako. She’s not in my top ten, but I find her to be well written and very sweet. Now, I do feel her motives have always been a combination of wanting to help people to see them smile (which is why she wants to go into the rescue work field) plus wanting to support her family, but the second part seems to be focused on more in the beginning while the first part is touched in the second half of the series. I think both should’ve been touched on more in the beginning, or at least mentioned. I think the reason people see Ochako as some sort of gold digger is cause when asked about being a hero, she mentioned the money part first, and people focused on that rather than her actions as a hero which shows that there’s more than money that motivated her to be a hero. If she really wanted to, she could’ve gone and done literally anything else. A quirk that makes things weightless would be useful in any field involving physical labor. The fact she’s continuously risking her life instead of doing a much safer job speaks volumes about her as a person, but people ignore that.

So I like Himiko a lot, but Hori really dropped the ball with her to be honest. Now, her and Ochako connecting over their feelings a boy can definitely work, but it should’ve been expanded on way further. Family love, the love for friends, all that could’ve been tackled. The idea of love making you want to be abandon your own sense of identity so you can like the person you love (Himiko) vs love serving as motivation for being the best person you can be (Ochako) should’ve also been tackled. Instead, it’s written pretty weakly and like a fetish at times. It’s treated as a D plot when imo it should’ve been written as a C plot (Izuku and OFA’s story is the A plot, Katsuki is the B plot that shouldn’t exist, the Todoroki family is the C plot, and Ochako’s rivalry with Himiko is the D plot). As the C plot, I feel their rivalry could’ve been explored far better than it currently is. If you reduce Katsuki to the D plot and divide the screen time he gets between the Todoroki family plot and the Ochako/Himiko plot, there would be tons more room to explore Ochako’s character and the concept of true love vs toxic love.

#bnha critical #mha critical #anti bakugo #anti bakugou #anti katsuki bakugou #anti bakugou katsuki #anti bakugo katsuki #mha ochako #himiko toga #mha ochaco