#just them being in beacon makes them gifted kids

[kpopnstarwars]

Warriors: Choi San x Reader

A/N: ohh boyyy after the kpop fanfic drought im back and it's with warriors au choi san

Summary: San and Reader are mages, which means they are made to serve. They are lowborn, destined to obey humans - the nobles and the highborn - with their every breaths. What if they don't want that?

tw: 18+, smut (p in v, fingering, cockwarming sort of), swearing, violence, death, blood, minimally gory at one point, war, child soldiers (14 yo), society is a shit place to be if you're a mage, tons of worldbuilding, assassins, freaking bath sex, hint at sa at one point from some dude we hate, san is kind of a brat tamer, seonghwa cameo but sad, idk if you can tell but i suck at summaries, mention of a harem, mention of slavery

wc: 4.8k

As a child, you watched from afar, waiting for things you could not grasp.

They told you that you were made to serve. They recounted age-old tales, about gods that crafted humans in their divine hands, moulding the mages afterwards to be commanded by their beloved creations. They filled your mind with legends of faithful individuals of your kind who proved their worth with obedience until you wished to be like your forebears.

Back when you were but an infant, you believed it. You knew the two powers that were bestowed upon you by the gods, varying in every mage, were gifts made solely to assist the highborns. In your naivety, you thought the rosy flame cupped in your small, childish palms would be used to warm the nobles in the icy winter, and that you would fulfil your purpose through that, through being of use to them. They had no shame as they informed you you were just a tool forged for following their orders, and you were convinced it was all true - until you met San.

Although you were the one with the ability to summon an inferno, he was always the one with a burning fire in his eyes. Like all mages, he’d been taken from his parents the moment he didn’t need his mother’s milk - he was given as a peace offering from the Hwangso warlord for his control of water: helpful for the upkeep of the crops.

This occurred in the small period of time in which Hwangso, the neighbouring province, was attempting to forge alliances with your province, Neugdae. Soon after, your warlord breached their territory, claiming it as his - you often wondered if the news filtering back from the front lines of a new settlement captured ever affected San.

You met him when he was an eight year old filled with bottled fury too old for his years, and you were a quiet, invisible seven year old. At those tender ages, neither of you had developed your second ability yet, nor had you gotten a taste of the power at your fingertips, but San still held his head high; you remember marvelling at the way he’d make a point of meeting every single noble’s gaze and holding it. He was just a scrawny, sun browned kid back then - nothing like the elegant lethality of the man that he is now.

Every day until you turned fourteen, you toiled beside him. The work was cruel, your supervisors crueller; the sun would beat down on your back as you laboured in the fields, side by side with San as barely a quarter of the way across the settlement, the nobles sheltered beneath their silky parasols, boasting their pale, porcelain skin. Back then, San never spoke of the injustice of it all out loud, but something about the look in his eyes when he saw them swanning past stirred something inside you. He made you realise that you were not the soulless, mindless puppet that you’d been told you were, but a person.

It wasn’t simply the rage inside him that drew you to him, though. It was the way he remained sweet, kind, despite it all, making sure to send licks of cool mist down your neck when your supervisors weren’t looking, nicking extra crumbs of food for you and remaining beside you, a beacon of light that anchored you to sanity even in the dark.

Even when, you at fourteen, him fifteen, were sent out into battle.

There were always skirmishes between neighbouring warlords: a constant push and pull for more land, more resources, more power. They would attack on a whim - mages were expendable, nothing more than canon fodder; behind each squadron was a noble who would hang back behind the lines, commanding, unbothered by the bloodshed because it was the blood of mere tools.

By then, both you and San had developed your second abilities. San’s was the ability to manipulate shadows, turning them into almost solid shapes that could physically hinder attacks by forming daggers or clutching hands, or could temporarily block the world out in a shroud of rolling black fog. Yours was the art of shapeshifting; you let the outline of your body waver between forms, changing into powerful, deadly creatures whose substance was inhabited by the soul of a wavering teenager.

You’d known that you’d be forced to fight since you were young, but you never could have imagined the brutality of war.

It was there, in the midst of the battlefield, that any lingering innocence was burned from your soul. You learned that San’s water did not just bring life, but could also fill up someone’s lungs until they drowned upon dry ground, that your fire was not just a source of warmth or light, but could also combust a man’s heart within his chest, that the animals you were teaching yourself to shapeshift into could maul and break bones.

Many nights, you would fall asleep, curled against San, your face buried in his side with his arm wrapped around you, the taste of blood still in your mouth from where you’d torn your enemies’ throat out with the vicious canines of a tiger or the needle sharp fangs of a lynx. You would leave the front lines soaked with crimson, the essence of other people in your hair, smeared on your face, caked and drying under your nails.

It terrified you, how easily you could slice their flesh open with your claws. Armour was not wasted on mages, only generals, so just like you, all they wore were roughly woven tunics tied at the waist and trousers - you met no resistance when you killed your own kind, silent apologies on your lips.

Within the squadrons were also humans that had fallen from grace - criminals who still felt entitled enough by their birthright to think they could have a fourteen year old mage’s body; San protected you until you could protect yourself. In the first few weeks, when the punches he threw were too weak to deter them, he would let them beat him, giving you time to escape before returning to you, limping, lip split and nose bloody but the fire in his eyes never faltering.

On those nights, tears of frustration would leak from the corners of your eyes as you cleaned him up. He could so easily stop them if he used his abilities, but by then doing that without being instructed to do so by a highborn would lead to a flogging or a beating - fairytales no longer worked on you at that age, so your commanders and generals utilised fear mongering instead. You remember the hate and helplessness burning inside you when you looked at them: if all the mages rebelled at once, the nobles would have no chance, but everyone was too scared. Using your abilities on humans only led to execution.

You remember Seonghwa: he was a mage a few years older who cared for you and San as if you were his blood. He got too strong - you can’t recall his second ability but his first meant he could push a man over the brink of insanity, until he frothed at the mouth and his brain boiled within his skull. When you first witnessed the depth of his power, you were originally struck by the pain in Seonghwa’s eyes, and then by the fear in your commander’s.

The next day, Seonghwa was gone.

Often, you wonder if he fought back, or if he just let them kill him.

After, you made San promise that he wouldn’t show them if his powers developed further. He made you promise the same, and when you fought beside him, he was a constant reminder to reign yourself in, to survive. You were more careful with your powers from then on.

Some nights, though, when the frost ridden night air cut right through the ragged material of your blanket, you huddled next to San and lit a small fire in your hands. He’d tell you to stop, and you’d point out that he was shivering; he’d reply that he’d rather that than get you caught, and you would ignore him, not missing the way you tucked himself closer to the flame.

You didn’t tell him, but sometimes you would shift into a small animal, like a raccoon, and steal food for him in the dead of night. You didn’t answer when he asked you where you got it from, just shrugging and thrusting the rolls of bread and strips of dried meat into his hands, telling him he should eat.

When you were sixteen, San discovered he could animate his shadows. He could mould them like clay in his hands, breathing purpose into them - they would disintegrate within about a week or so, their outlines fading until they dissolved into nothing. San shaped a little dragon for you, the length of your forearm and the width of one of your thumbs; he came to you with it cupped in his hands, awe limning his face as the two of you watched it wriggle through the air between you and coil itself around your wrist.

You have many memories of those times, but one remains crystal clear, even to this day. A year onwards from San’s dragon, you found yourself hemmed in by enemy forces, your body tired from the fight - victory was so close for your side, and because of it, the Hwangso fought even harder, like cornered animals. If you broke through them, you would have been able to easily end their commander, but they had you, six to one. Hands closed around your throat, choking, and as the consciousness bled from you, you heard San’s cry, smelt the fear in the air as he tore through them to get to you: that in itself would have been insignificant - you had saved each other countless times through the years - but he had disobeyed a direct command.

He’d been told to kill the commander. He’d had a clear shot, and even still, he’d ignored orders, choosing to save you instead.

Both of you were beaten for it, and even as you heard the sound of San’s ribs cracking, he held your eyes, silently telling you that he’d do it over and over again, if only to keep you with him.

You think that was the moment when the two of you truly got a taste for rebellion. It was the point in the long, winding thread of your life that made you realise that whatever they told you, you would disregard it if it were for San. Their words no longer had as much power over you, because you knew your bond with him was infinitely stronger than any fear they attempted to instil within you.

Soon after that incident, your commander retired, and he was replaced by a man who was more of a fool than him. You began to lose land to Hwangso’s troops, far enough that the settlement where you grew up in was ravaged, razed to the ground. Your commander informed you that you’d evacuate the highborns, leaving the child mages and the servants behind because they would only slow you down - that was the moment you decided to stop listening to him.

The last mage rebellion had been decades ago - they were not ready. It was pathetic how easy it was to overthrow them; together with the rest of the troops and the mages from the settlement, you rebuilt the town and fortified it. San treated his soldiers with respect, with loyalty, and they loved him for it, for the way he would march into battle with them instead of cowering at the rear, for the way he could often be seen in the newly restored fields, watering the crops, for the way he recognised them for who they were.

To this day, you’re in awe of it. Never in your whole life have you come close to anything but fear for a leader, and yet you see it clear in their eyes that they love San, and that he loves them. He is everything that the highborns fear - a powerful, confident mage, wreathed in righteous shadows, fiercely intelligent, a master of strategy.

One of his first moves was to ally himself with the Hwangso warlord, the very man who had given him as a gift to your province. Deep in the highborn’s eyes was the presumption that he could break San and make him yield, followed a month later by pure terror when you held a knife to his neck, hissing to never speak of San like that again. The two of you brought his head in a sack to Hwangso and claimed your rule over the province.

That didn’t mean it was easy, though. There were the nights when San would tremble in your arms, baring his fears to you, his doubts - that it was getting too much too fast: that maybe he really was just made to follow orders. You scoffed at that - you’d seen him grow up, watched his shoulders broaden and his figure fill out with muscle, you’d seen the fire in his eyes blazing with passion; you knew he’d always be more than enough.

You’re not sure when the love blossomed between the two of you. Maybe it was always there, first shown as fierce protectiveness, later as searing kisses where no one could see, of fingers laced with yours in the dark of night. He married you shortly after he began to be recognised as an actual warlord, not a rogue mage; it was a quiet ceremony, but the celebrations of your people were far from that - rumours of the Neugdae province’s mage warlord and his wife rippled like wildfire through the regions, stirring fear and hope alike.

Some wonder why San does not take more wives - he has control over the Baem province as well Neugdae and Hwangso now, and any warlord with that much power would take on a harem without blinking. Not San, though - he’s different from them, he is a mage, a lowborn, his bronzed skin a sign to them of his childhood in the fields, and they find he is an enigma, as is his mystery shrouded right hand man.

But not to you - you understand him as if you share a soul.

On the surface, you are his only wife, aloof and coldly beautiful. In the shadows, you are his sword, his hand. There are myths of you, of the fire wielding ghost that robes itself in a black cowl and changes its skin into a man’s worst nightmare; stories of how you will twist your victim’s thoughts around until he finds the tip of a blade poking out of his chest, speared right through his back. It’s how you prefer to operate - they fear the unknown, and you are the unknown.

The fabric of the bag held in your fingers is soaked with blood. Within it is the head of the Yong province’s advisor. He was an awful man who deserved what you gave him - in a locked room at the back of his house, you found several young mages, half starved and chained by wrist and ankle to each other and a hook set in the wall. Bile bites at the back of your throat at the thought: you’re lucky you never experienced the uglier side of mage slavery.

Night is falling, the sun casting long shadows down the road. You always find the darkness comforting - it feels as if San is near. Today he is; you raise your fist and knock thrice on the solid wood of the gates, lifting your hand in recognition of the guards who peek over the turrets.

Slowly, they ease open the doors, and you stride into the courtyard, your boots clicking against the roughly hewn pavings. A squadron of your soldiers are sparring, but they halt their training when you enter, snapping to attention as you stop at the centre of the space, the dying rays of the sun streaming down the steps towards you, the air still as you wait.

He appears, his gilded silhouette glorious at the top of the stairs. His shadow guards spill down the steps towards you as he descends; their bodies contort and bend, the swirling mass of them parting around you, liquid night, jaws snapping, circling you until you’re surrounded.

A smirk pulls at your lips, and you throw the bag at his feet. You do not bow low, simply dipping your chin as he extracts the head from the sack, inspecting it and nodding before returning it to its roughly woven grave and handing it to one of his shadows to take away. Meeting your eyes, his own filled with amusement, the hint of a smile flashes over his face.

‘Welcome home, my love.’

San’s words are soft, voice quiet enough for only you to hear. You suppress the urge to pull down your mask and kiss him, instead letting your fingers brush against his as you walk with him up the steps and into the hanok; his shadows close the door behind you and the moment they do, he hooks an arm around your waist and hugs you tight, his embrace warm and sweet as always.

You laugh. ‘I was only gone four days, Sannie.’

‘Four days too long for me to be separated from my wife,’ he replies, pushing your cowl back so he can kiss your forehead.

Gripping his shoulders, you tug him down so you can peck his lips before sending him out to the courtyard again - you’re the last person expected through the gates tonight, so he should go out and dismiss the mages training in the courtyard so they can go home to their families and lock up. A happy sigh leaves you as you toe off your shoes, walking through your home and stripping off your bloody clothes before submerging yourself in the pool sunken in the floor. San has already filled it with fresh water, and it takes you mere seconds to heat it up with your fire.

Leaning with your head against the wooden ledge of the pool, you let your muscles loosen, half closing your eyes. The silence doesn’t last long, though - there’s a soft, steady noise coming from the screen behind you, almost like… breathing.

‘Show yourself,’ you command into the still air.

A man steps into view - a human, eyes crazed, knife clutched in his fingers. You realise he does not know who you really are; he just assumes you are the mage warlord San’s wife, delicate and helpless, and you let that role engulf you, backing away to the other edge of the pool with your eyes wide, luring him closer.

‘Your man took everything from me,’ he spits, blade pointed at you as he stalks forward. ‘He took my power, my wealth, my squadron of soldiers. And now I will take his wife.’

Surging out of the pool, you dodge the swipe he aims at you, sending fire surging down the knife’s handle so he drops it with a cry and twisting his arm behind his back in the most painful way possible, wrenching him down to his knees with his face an inch above the water.

‘How did you get in?’ You ask coolly.

‘I’ll never tell y - ’

You send tongues of flame licking down his ribs. ‘Answer the question or suffer.’

The door eases open, revealing San. His eyes land on you, water dripping down your body as you pin the man to the floor, then the distorted reflection from the blade of the knife that’s fallen into the pool, and something dangerous flashes inside his gaze. You let him grab your attacker by the front of his shirt, lifting him off his feet as he brings him face to face with him; you see San’s jaw clench, his hands balling into fists.

‘How fucking dare you try to come anywhere near my wife,’ he growls, shadows coalescing behind him.

You can tell he’s about to say something else, but he stops as the man, trembling and fruitlessly clawing at San’s fingers, wets himself. Your husband’s lip curls in disgust, and he drops him at your feet, pressing him down onto his knees and yanking his head up so he is forced to look up at you. Bending down, you breathe in the sheer fear permeating the air, a soft smile on your face.

‘Now, answer the question.’

‘You’re not his wife,’ he whispers, pale.

‘Oh, but I am,’ you sneer. ‘But that’s not the only role I occupy.’

Slowly, his face drains of colour, horror rippling across it as it slowly dawns on him. He recoils in San’s grasp, scrabbling at the floor in a sorry attempt to put distance between you; he has finally realised who you are and he acts like fucking coward, his mouth gaping wide in a silent plea. Unhurried, you fish the knife out from the pool, twirling it around your thumb before gliding it gently over the skin of his throat.

‘I’m getting impatient.’

‘I - I - the guards, they were distracted upon your arrival, I snuck in at the southern perimeter, please don’t - ’

His words dissolve into a weak gurgle when you slice open his throat. Blood gushes from the seams of the wound, dribbling from his lips, and you step back as he tips forward, landing with a wet thump face first on the wooden floor. Glancing up at San, you sigh before getting back in the pool. One of his shadows carries the body away and your husband tugs his clothes off and slides into the water beside you, pulling you into his chest.

‘He did not hurt you, I presume?’

You snort. ‘He tried.’

San’s fingers run thoughtfully up and down your arm. ‘I’ll talk to the guards. I probably shouldn’t have put Jisung on dusk duty while he was recovering from that fever.’

You nod but don’t answer, instead pressing a kiss to his collarbone. He hums, tipping his head back to give you more access as you mouth at his skin, letting your palms wander over his shapely chest, grip his broad shoulders, skim his waist; you trace the many scars all over his body, and he allows you to, his strong hands gripping your hips when you settle in his lap.

He curses low at the feel of your teeth sinking into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, his hips jerking upwards, and you both groan at the sensation of the underside of his cock grazing your clit. Smirking, you let your tongue lave over the spot where you bit, pressing a kiss to his jaw and pulling back as his hands tighten their grip on your ass.

‘Missed you too, Sannie. Good to know how much you missed me.’

‘So fucking bratty,’ he hisses.

A thrill shoots through you as he stands, the water sluicing in rivulets down the planes of his chest, lifting you and laying you on the edge of the pool, pinning your knees to the wood and spreading you open. The crude way he looks at you is all consuming, his eyes surveying you from where he stands with the water to his mid thigh, watching as you pussy clenches at the sight of him towering over you.

San remains there, just looking at you, and you curve your spine, almost whining in attempt to make him touch you without you asking for it. His lips quirk to the side as you squirm, trying to inch your hips down so you can grind against him, but his fingers tighten on you, refusing you.

‘What is it you require of me, love?’

Finding your attempts unsuccessful, you huff, glaring at him. He loves to do this, make you articulate exactly what you want from him - he likes the flush that heats your cheeks, your body still shy even after all your years with him, he likes the breathy noises you make when he forces you to tell him just what you desire when all you can think of is his dick, he likes it when you can’t  help but beg him.

‘Y - your fingers,’ you mumble. ‘And your cock.’

‘Say that louder for me, sweetheart, I didn’t catch the last bit.’

‘Your fingers and your fucking cock,’ you snap - a sorry endeavour at trying to hide how much you love when he inflicts this upon you.

San raises an eyebrow, not moving to touch you. Waiting.

‘Please,’ you add.

He smiles. ‘There we go. Wasn’t so hard, was it?’

Your mouth opens to retort, but he slips his fingers inside you, and your back bows, a soft moan leaving your lips as he sweeps his thumb over your clit, his other hand palming your breasts, his tongue dragging over your skin. Burying your hands in his hair, you tug, making him groan low and deep as you pull him closer.

Delectably, his fingers curl, and you ache for him. San has ruined you for anyone else, he is branded onto your soul and also your body, fading marks from your last time together still slightly visible on your throat - a necklace of love bites, laying claim to you. He catches your chin as he brings you closer to the edge, tasting your moans on his tongue, grinding his palm against your clit.

You keen, coming hard around him, chest heaving, and he smirks, holding your waist as shudders wrack your legs from the aftershocks. The fire in his eyes burns ever brighter, so hot you feel your stomach go molten - your hands tighten on his shoulders, nails raking over his back, your tongue unable to form anything other than his name.

‘You’re always so willing to behave once your pussy’s full, hm?’

‘No, I,’ you start, but cry out when he pinches your clit in warning, the muscles of your thighs jumping as it lances through you, white hot. ‘Y - yes, yes, I am, please - ’

In one fluid movement, San buries himself inside you, sheathing himself until his hips kiss yours. Catching you wrists in his hand, he pins them above your head, and your back arches as he pulls out, agonisingly slowly, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging on your walls before slamming back in, tearing a cry of his name from your chest. Tugging your legs up from where they were wrapped around his waist, he hooks your knees over his shoulders - the new angle makes you sob, writhing beneath him as his cock head drives into perfection, drives you to euphoria.

Sometimes, San makes love to you, but not tonight: tonight he fucks into you mercilessly, traces of possessiveness lacing his actions as he litters your skin with bites, his hands leaving exquisite bruises on your hips. Pleasure tears through you like an arrow through your heart, white hot and maddening, ravenous.

‘You fit around my cock so well,’ he pants. ‘Like you were made for me, sweetheart.’

Something snaps inside you at his words, and as if he senses it, San presses his thumb down hard on your clit, speeding up his thrusts until the air is punched from your lungs. Stars flash before your eyes, and your mouth falls open, toes curling as you come on his cock, your cunt convulsing around him, thighs twitching; he doesn’t stop, just continues ploughing into you, and you tremble, tears slipping down your cheeks at the relentless pound of his hips into yours.

With a gasp, he pulls out and comes over your stomach, his wide shoulders rising and falling with heaving breaths, and you groan as he eases you back into the warm water, a hand cupping the back of your neck as he tucks your head under his chin, sliding his softening cock into you again. Wrapping your arms around him, you press a kiss to his jaw and rest your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

‘How do you feel, my love?’

You nuzzle your face into his shoulder. ‘Good. Really fucking good.’

He laughs, and you bask in the sound of his happiness and the comfort of his warm skin against yours. San’s hands run up and down your spine, soothing, and you smile sleepily; you are home, reunited with your other half, the missing part of your soul.

With San, you are complete.

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[ancientgoddessofegypt]

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE PURPOSE? WHAT ARE YOU MEANT TO DO? WHAT ARE YOU HERE FOR?

From Left (Pile 1, 3) Right (Pile 2, 4) Middle (Pile 5)

PILE 1 - 'HEALERS OF THE NILE, PROTECTORS OF THE EVE'

Psychic Tarot - Heartache & Loss + Sacrifice + Self-Master

Heart Oracle - Balance + Joy & Stability + Choose Your Battles + Sadness & Isolation

A lot of this pain you have transmutes itself into laughter, joy, and appreciation for life itself. A lot of people adore you and enjoy being around you because you heal them with just being who you are. You guys may of had a childhood that separated you from others. You could of been bullied, or felt like an outcast in some way. Some of you could have also dealt with depression or some sort of heartbreak that made you who you are today. You are a beacon of joy to others and without you a lot of people wouldn't have been able to see the light. When you feel like you're hiding there is always something that forces you back into the spotlight. You are like the sun and you've been brought here to show people what its like to live in your power, your truth and exploring the gifts God gave you. A lot of people who are depressed themselves, carrying pain and trauma will see your light and we'll see that there truly is hope in this world. You remind people that giving up is not an option, and you yourself get up everyday trying to make the world a better place to exist. So if no one ever told you thanks for all you've done, all you've been for them. I'll say it for you. You're efforts have not been unnoticed, and in due time you will see that the healing work you've put in will be another persons story that gets them out of bed. I'm not joking.

You're made for so much more, and you know it. Allow your vibe, your presence to be the journey. You don't have to do anything more. Just being yourself in this world is enough.

God bless you.

PILE 2 - 'GIVERS OF SUCCESS. MORPHING INTO YOUR TRUE REALITY.'

Psychic Oracle - Truth (Sideways) + Firm Foundation.

Heart Oracle - Seek the Truth + Win or Lose + Master + Victory & Success + Daydreams & Decisions (Sideways).

You guys are a big deal in the astral realms. You guys have an infinite connection to the spirit realm but through out life you guys weren't sure how to build that relationship with the divine. Some of you are a bit stubborn, hard headed, and even a bit arrogant. But it takes time to surrender to the divine. It takes patience, practice and diligence to agree with your life's purpose. With that being said, a lot your gifts are calling you to be an influencer in some way. Yes, I said it. You're called into the spotlight, but in a way that benefits the community and society as a whole. You guys are starlight with this alien consciousness that deserves to be noticed by the masses. People can't get their grip on you, and that's okay. Your purpose is equipped for bigger things, big magic I call it. Your called to be at the top love, do what you will with that. You came here already knowing what's within, I apologize if anyone or anything convinced you otherwise. You'll have that on your road to success. They'll never get why it was them who had to wait for the success they looked for, craved even. But you, never showed despair or an angst for not getting what you wanted. It was simply just not your time. Divine purpose is in letting the brain connect to the physical realm and find things to create during that time. You have big dreams kid, so let your voice, your mind, and your presence be the movement. Everyone will open their hands in order to help you guide the way to the Kingdom of Heaven. Influential Order. Dynamics Changing. Opening Doors To New Paths. There Is One Way, And It's Yours.

Take this time to learn yourself, you have more gifts and abilities than you know.

God Bless.

PILE 3 - THE SIREN. THE EMPRESS. THE KING. THE WITCH. THE POWERFUL MATRIX ASCENDER.

PsychIc Oracle - Accelerated Motion + Movement, Choices, Decisions + Passion Ignited

Heart Oracle - Dreams Coming True + New Vitality + Crown Chakra

There's power in your name. Your voice holds energy that can't be mistaken as weak. You have abundance written all over you, yet you still don't see your purpose. What makes you love your life and what is meant for you. A beautiful life. A world meant to be enjoyed and embarked on with full autonomy and free of the judgement of others. There are times where you wonder what roads to take, but there are none. It's just you, living, breathing, succeeding and just being in love. You have 'no purpose' to fulfill. Your purpose is to just be in enjoyment of the world and to view the stars as a magical infinity where all your dreams can come true. You have to learn that not everything is about you in this lifetime, that your world isn't like others. So don't make it out to be. You're blessed in areas that others work hard to get. Please remember that you're a goddess, a god, a king or queen or whatever you choose to label yourself as. You don't have to work hard in this life, let me remind you, you came here to succeed NATURALLY.. That is a gift. You're honored in past lives and this one you're honored in this one. You just have to make way for yourself to receive. Be open to the divine and what its promised you. Just take time being seen for all that you are, and watch how things come for you with ease and grace. No distress. Just practice gratitude in this life, thats literally you're calling. Special Presence. Love & Life. Appreciation Of The Stars. The Most High Watches Over You. Joy In Your Flesh. Being Present For The Moment. Enjoying Wonders Beneath The Soil. A Garden Awaiting To Bloom.

God Bless.

PILE 4 - LOVE & BALANCE. SPIRITUAL HEALING. MORPHING INTO ONE.

Heart Oracle - Spiritual Union + Balance + Master

Bonus Reading: New Vitality

A love from the Gods. Creators of the Promise Land. The adams and the eve. The Apple & The Tree. The Great Awakening. A spiritual love that surpasses time. A love worth dreaming and waiting for. Your higher-selves needed this. So you could show the world what is true. There is a billion stars in the horizon, but yet you two showed the world that the universe lives in you.Theres so many realities one could take, yet this is the one for you. You've been called, chosen for this. Your calling is connected to your romantic lover. Its graced with protection, love, grace, connection, authenticity and a reality that no one knew was possible.

The energy is felt across thousands, and this love is worth a million times more than that. You'll be protected in spaces that are deserving to see you and come in contact with you guys grace. Always remember to keep quiet about your union as some people's evil eye can try to infect itself into you guys love. Not all has to be private, but again, not many souls can view this perfect union. You are God's Angels on Earth.

You are connected to a higher love, a union that meets pass social standards and beliefs. God Bless.

PILE 5 - PERFORMING FOR THE UNIVERSE. STARS. CALLING AWAITS YOU ON THE LARGEST STAGE OF GOD.

Psychic Oracle - Firm Foundation + Memories Of Love + Stand Your Ground

Heart Oracle - Shine + Hope + Heal

A God Or Goddess that's been called to be on stage in some sort. Artistic abilities are strongest when you show them to people. You might be a leo or have leo placements. You might have 5th house placements. You might have neither. Either way, you have a destiny that makes you shine like one, thats for sure. You have been given the grace to keep these efforts flowing. Sure the humble beginnings made you feel like this was going no where, and there could of been weight you were holding that kept you beneath waters. You have to give yourself time to see yourself in that light again, thats ok. Feelings of being ungrounded might of been common in the past, but now you are more aware of your talents than ever before. And that counts for something. You've been given the green light to be a star since birth. You didn't know at the time, but at some point it became apparent. Give yourself time to grow in your talents and gifts. The stage is awaiting your gracious gifts. We really get a kick out of it. Also the number 17 in tarot is significant. 17 came up twice for you and its a simple of hope and making a wish come true. You can have the world if you asked, don't forget it. Always be you in a world that tells you otherwise. If you ever felt scared of your own gifts, now is the time to cast out that vibration. You're meant to be seen in all your glory. Remember it.

Unique talents will be what gives you the greatest joy & its what keeps you feeling alive.

Ase! God Bless.

#mystic #mystic readings #psychic readings #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a character #pick a photo #love readings #love #psychic #channeled readings #tarot readings #tarot cards #deja's pick a pile

[shadowfloofster]

Seeing so many people lump Bad into the category of "He mistreats Foolish! He doesn't care about him at all and doesn't trust him!" is incredibly frustrating when you actually SEE them interact outside of Bad messing with Foolish stuff.

Yes, Bad messes with Foolish but they do it to each other. It's a mutual thing and never go across any boundaries (if they do they'll back track and undo whatever was done. Like when Bad encouraged others to build inside the dragon, before they left he made sure they undid all the blocks that would affect the look of it from the outside) and as a "thanks for letting me mess with you so much" Bad leaves multiple gifts for Foolish! The platforms at the perfect height and distance to look over the titan, the scavenger hunt for Foolish's 10 stacks of pizzas with a massive reward for him and Leo at the end, making the conduit for Foolish when asked, the beacons at the titan and the backpack with many enchantment books, blocks, exp and upgrades.

The 2 trust each other but are also out to get each other. Bad wouldn't leave Pomme with Foolish if he thought he wasn't trust worthy of watching his daughter. Foolish wouldn't leave the tree in his home Bad and Pomme made if he was genuinely bothered by it (Bad expects it to disappear at some point too, as it's Foolish's home). Foolish and Bad wouldn't have followed Jaiden together, the 2 relying on each other to make sure they didn't lose her and stayed invisible (even if they did argue 99% of the time). When in the dungeon Foolish wouldn't have been calling out to Bad, asking if he was okay as Bad was being swarmed by mobs.

If Foolish was actually trapped in the nether, Bad would have tried to help him get out. If Bad truly didn't trust Foolish, he wouldn't hang out with him at all or tell him things, or even give him access to his home. He wouldn't have stuck up for Foolish against Max when they were talking about kicking Foolish out (even if he did play into it too, but that's how they are with each other. Foolish told Max Bad did a survey for the federation for the exact same reason, to make the other look bad)

Others might not trust Foolish or might mistreat him, Bad however does trust Foolish. And Foolish trusts Bad. Bad knows Foolish's limits and while might push them, he knows where to stop. They can predict each other's actions and motivations incredibly well. They respect each other and trust each other but show it differently to everyone else, in a way no one else understands because they've been friends for that long.

They both trust each other with their kids. They know the other is a great parent as much as they might say otherwise.

So no, Bad should not be lumped in with everyone else who doesn't trust Foolish or mistreats him. Because he doesn't. He trusts Foolish more than anyone and they treat each other the exact same way, Bad just having more free time to mess with Foolish.

#qsmp #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp foolish #qsmp ramble #It's frustrating when you know Bad does trust Foolish #They both know it too #It's not a secret or anything #They prove it time and time again that how they act towards each other isn't serious at all #Bad would have removed Foolish from entering his home if it was truly a case of “Bad doesn't trust Foolish” or something #Especially after last night's prank around his home

[d4rkpluto]

𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔶 𝔬𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫

JUST TO SUPPORT

♇ those who have mars harshly aspecting mercury [ conjunctions included ] have terrible, terrible temper.

♇ aquarius placements really like to tussle or fight, [ including myself lol ] like all the people that used to fight a lot in my school had aqua placements or 11h placements or uranus placements.

♇ mike tyson has uranus aspecting pluto

♇ joseline hernandez an aqua mars

♇ i, an aquarius sun and im known for my moments here on tumblr

♇ people who have neptune aspect the ascendant, specifically sextile, get away with stuff, like a lot.

♇ having jupiter in the second house causes someone to have a big appetite to the point they dont know when to stop, well not all of them

♇ i think i mentioned this before but having sagittarius in your big six, or prominent in your chart, jupiter in your 1h or 4h along with it being prominent in your chart indicates that there is something foreign about your lineage. many people i've met who've had sag degrees, sag in their big six or whatever were always foreign.

♇ those with juno in the first house might be perceived as marriage material.

♇ those with south node in their 11h might've had a lot of karmic friends. or could've had friends that were friends with them in the past life.

♇ south node in the 7h = karmic relationships.

♇ south node isnt really spoken about in astrology; well tumblr, the south node doesnt only speak about your past life it can also speak about the present. the south node is known to be talented when it comes to spiritual gifts, if it is aspecting your moon it is a beacon of you being very spiritually talented. especially if it is aspecting your ceres or neptune.

♇ people with sagittarius and aquarius in their big two and not taking anything seriously or being very smiley people; bonus if aries is in their big six

-♇ i once had a post about how jupiter/neptune natives are truly the most loved. princess diana a sagittarius rising, michael jackson a pisces rising, and marilyn monroe had neptune in her first house. out of every celebrities, their death are always spoke about till this day.

♇ chiron in the 12h in a synastry or composite indicates of past life relationship; chiron in 12h natal chart definitely means there's some healing from the past life you need to do currently.

♇ those with cancer in there big six, specifically big three or prominent 4h placements have internet/youthful humour.

♇ sagittarius risings are also known for their smiles! and as it rules over the dolls, i must've said it before, but it makes them give big bratz vibes.

♇ main fandom houses are the 7h, 9h and 11h, so if you wanna see how your fans would be check there!

♇ even though leo is a fame sign, the main one is actually pisces; leo is more theatre kid and pisces is more flashlights, paparazzi and glamour.

♇ 20° is the ultimate obsessive degree, celebrities that are heavily fixated a lot have this degree in their chart, is the type of fame indicator which gets people hooked, for example, beyonce, ariana grande; ariana who has it on her rising and her appearance is always debated and copied. nba youngboy, travis scott, kim kardashian, kylie jenner, billie eilish, aaliyah, and selena gomez and so on.

♇ the degree is also an indicator of witch craft or just being around it or people theorise them doing it.

♇ pluto in 4h/12h/scorpio moon/8h moon/cancer 8h/cancer 12h = hidden pregnancy, or not being seen in public pregnant.

pluto

#mars square mercury #mars opposition mercury #mars conjunct mercury #mars-mercury #aquarius #uranus #uranus-pluto #mike tyson #joseline hernandez #aqua mars #aquarius mars #neptune-ascendant #neptune sextile ascendant #jupiter in the 2h #jupiter 2h #2h jupiter #sagittarius #big six #big 6 #juno #juno in the first house #south node in the 11h #south node in the eleventh house #south node in the 7h #south node in the seventh house #south node #princess diana #michael jackson #marilyn monre #neptune

[that-bitttch]

Some Sterek thoughts I like

As requested by my awesome ride or die bestie mutual @that-grunge-fae here are some Sterek bits that I enjoy! Let me know if you want more!

They get together just after the Nogitsune. After months/years of pining and ST that you could cut with a knife, Derek finally snaps after realising just how close he had come to losing Stiles for good, the pain that came with somebody else wearing his skin.

Contrary to popular belief, Stiles makes the first move. In the summer whilst looking for Erica and Boys (whom stay alive and well in my head because I love them), he starts spending more time with Derek, bringing games and food and bullying Derek into actually living somewhere other than the ruins of his house. He does it knowingly and with the grudging support of his father.

Saying that, the Sheriff is not stupid. He knows there is more than meets the eye, and he also knows he would not be able to stop Stiles if he tried. He knew he would have to wait for Stiles to come to him. With that said, he also knows that Derek is a good kid, and a kid he is, he can remember how he was in the Before. He never believed Derek would do those things, and does not say a word when he gets reports of his son spending inordinate amounts of time with him.

In fact, the Sheriff is the one who starts off the Packwide bet, much to the horror of Scott.

He and Melissa both bet correctly, saying it would happen after Stiles is faced with unimaginable danger and certain death, within the year.

Scott says it will never happen at all in his denial

Lydia and Boyd get the closest after the parents, also saying within the year, but without the specifics

Erica bets within a moth for all of the tension between the two, Isaac says two years, and Jackson just ignores them all, but agrees with Erica. The pack just;; avoid Peter and discussing it with him

Stiles makes Derek get so flustered. Pet names and casual affection galore. Sweethearts and Darling and Babe. Brushing a hand along his back, his hands. Resting a chin over his shoulder. It amuses the Pack to a great extent.

Derek is more of a silent affectionate type. Gift giving is his love language. Repairing the Jeep, finding magical tomes, sending Stiles random article links he thinks he will enjoy.

There is no big or little spoon, because Stiles just flops. Everywhere. They are always entangled and sprawled out.

They can both cook, Derek from years on the hiding from Hunters with Laura, and Stiles from after his mother's death, and it is a major sore spot for both of them, but it doesn't mean they don't enjoy doing it. They surprise each other with homemade lunches and dinner dates. Derek even makes the Sheriff some heart healthy, but still delicious, meals he can enjoy at the station because he has more free time, and wants both of the Stilinski men to be happy.

Stiles slipped a house key onto the Camaro keys one day, without saying anything, and Derek doesn't notice until Stiles locks himself out of the house one day and calls. Derek will deny being emotional about it, even more so when the Sheriff calls him Son and welcomes him home every time.

Derek doesn't get a chance to give Stiles a housekey, purely for the fact Stiles went ahead and made copies of every important key in Beacon Hills for himself, but Derek does give him a key to the Camaro, which is even more emotional.

#Teen Wolf #stiles stilisnki #derek hale #Sterek #Sterek HC #sterek headcanon #sheriff stilinski #Ride or die bestie mutual #💛💛💛

[set-wingedwarrior]

Multiple people have been speaking about Ruby and Jaune's fight and the various paralles, but there's one I haven't seen anyone mention yet: them being opposites.

When Ruby breaks down asking "What about me?" Jaune, after all the ranting and blaming, goes "It's all about you!" We're in a position where, I think, both of them wish to be the other in a way.

Jaune has never been the hero. We know that, he knows that, everyone knows that. And before falling in the Ever After, he made peace with it, embracing his more supportive role. Which is why Penny's whole deal is particularly painful; it's not just him having to do THAT (do not misundertand, that's awful on its own already), but having to do so when he's the only one with healing abilities. He went against his whole new identity as a healer, doubling the pain and general psychological troubles he went through after, and that he had to deal with in complete isolation.

"I was the ONLY ONE who could do it!", but he didn't.

What does this have to do with my initial point? The fact that the whole Ever After situation questioned his identity again, most likely making him fall back to the whole hero thing. The kind he's never been, that he's never meant to be and never will.

Ruby on the other end is litterally the gifted kid. She went to Beacon skipping 2 years while Jaune had to use fake transcripts. She has silver eyes and even if yes, she did train a lot to get where she is, she's also naturally inclined to the fight. Qrow said it as well at the end of volume 3, "those with silver eyes are fated to lead the life of the warrior".

But Ruby doesn't feel like this right now, not anymore. She wanted to fight for good, sure, but it never went past fighting Grimm and helping people against "regular" bad guys. Protecting the ones who can't protect themselves.

But an immortal being who wants the destruction of the world? Assassins litterally after her specifically? Watching the people she cares about die by the hand of a psychopath? Having the responsbilitiy over the whole world dumped on her shoulders? All on her own, because she's the leader? That's too much.

"Why do I have to be the leader anyway? Why do I always have to be the one to pick people up? What about me?"

Maybe being withouth any talent from the start, never getting into fighting in the first place would have been better, it would have spared her all this pain, right?

Maybe I'm reaching with this interpretation, but I still find it a very interesting comparison. The one who now wants to be the hero and be able to protect the others that suffers because that's not what he's meant to be, against the one who is getting crushed by this imposed role and expectations, and just wants to drop it all.

#rwby #ruby rose #jaune arc #rwby9 #rwby analysis #rwby spoiler #rwby spoilers

[alexyskinnerstories]

Hope M.~ You are the Daughter of Lucifer Morningstar he created you with the help of a thousand years old Nogitsune the only way to help with creating you is also for you to become his daughter as well after they secure their deal they started to research how to make you they succeed they started to scout for the perfect woman to carry you and then they found your mother Bonnie Bennett when she found out she was pregnant she moved to Beacon Hills to get away from Mystic Falls to give you a somewhat normal life until she was needed back in Mystic Falls.

The Quadbrid

*Y/n Point of View*

My dads and I just arrived at this school for the young and gifted ( Supernatural) the headmaster of the boarding school was outside waiting for us I step out of the car and moved to the side door so Elijah and Klaus could jump out after the hit the ground they stretch out their legs and heeled beside me father was talking to the man I take leashes off dogs and pointed to the woods next to the school and speak to them in Romanian. Du-te la olita. I command and then ran off turning my attention back to the old guy I heard the headmaster telling my father that he needed to fill in some more information on me and then my full-time student here we walked into the school and some girls stop in front of me and smiled I raise an eyebrow at them and they giggled they turned to the headmaster and said

Blonde: Father who is this?

Brownhead: Is she a new student?

Headmaster: Yes Josie she is a new student and her name is Y/n Morningstar

The girls gasped and step back in freight my dads and I chuckled I was about to insure them that I mean no harm to them or anyone in the school until a beautiful strawberry blonde sped over girls stood in front of me facing the girls I looked at her check her out from behind dad came up from behind me and smacked my head I held my head in pain and he pulled us over to my father and listen to what the headmaster in the corner of my eye I could see the three girls whispering and glancing over to me.

*Hope Pov*

I was talking with the twins but they keep looking at the new kid I clear my throat to get their attention back from the new kid I don't like how they pay more attention to her than me it was rude I was talking to them and all they could do was look at her.

"Who is the new student?"I ask them with a little attitude in my voice.

That's Y/n Morningstar and that's her father "Lucifer that talking with our dad." Josie replied and looked back at them. I was about to call out for Josie's attention again when Lizzie starts speaking to me.

"Hey hope I was wondering if you could do the truth spell on them so we could know their intentions being here?" Lizzie asked hopefully, I nodded and planned to do it when we are alone with her.

They started to walk to the building when she around and whistle ( The black widow whistle just cause) and looked over to where she was looking and we could see two dogs running to the school from the woods and they ran to stand by her they continued to walk in inside the building and out of my sight.

*Lucifer Pov*

We walked into the school headmaster's office and sat down in some chairs in front of his desk and we started talking about the arrangements that Y/n will need he agreed to the conditions and asked me what kind of supernatural creature my dear daughter " Well, she is a quadbrid which means she has four Supernatural beings in her first is Witch." As I speak y/n showed her witch eyes.

Vampire

Werewolf

Nogitsune

Headmaster: Woah she'll fit in I already have a room for her in mind she will be sharing with someone somewhat like her, I nodded and motioned for Y/n to keep quiet because I know she'll object to sharing with someone but I want her to come out and make friends and hopefully find love after we had everything settled we left he walked to the quarters where the students stay he walked us three to the room she'll be sharing hopefully . We walked in to see her things in the room the headmaster left and I started to help her along with void after a while we were quite finished and we all turned as we hear the door open a young lady with red hair walked in and saw us and went into a defensive stance.

????: Why in hell are you three doing in my bedroom

I start to speak when she interrupted me and rudely speaking

????: You know whatever I don't care why you guys are here get the hell out

Y/n: Well as you see Am you're new roommate and if you don't like it all well I don't care

????: Ahh yeah no get out before I make you

Y/n: I would love to see you try to make me

The redhead shot a blue bolt-like thing at Y/n  but she deflected it with a wave of her hand and destroy at lamp beside the girl's bed

The headmaster runs into the room in front of the girl as she goes to attack again

Headmaster: No Hope she's your roommate because there weren't any other rooms available now stop this immediately

She nodded and apologized to us and went to her bed and got on her phone

I turned back to my daughter and told her I have to leave now she nodded and playful shooed me away I chuckled and kissed her head and walked out of her room as I grab void hand and dragged him out.

Y/n Pov

After my parents leave I sighed and walked over to the Hope girl and say sorry about her lap she said it was alright but I didn't believe her so I waved my hand over it while thinking of it fixing itself.

Y/n: there you go good as new again sorry about messing that up

Hope: You didn't have to do that but thanks anyways

I was about to reply when I had to settle whimpers from the closed door I quickly realized I was Elijah and Klaus and snap of my fingers and made a doggie door appear

I introduced them to Hope she was tensed up I asked her what was wrong and she told me that their names were her late Father and Uncle names I apologize for making her upset she said it was OK I nodded and walked to my side of the room and sat on my bed and read a book I made the dog's food materialize in the corner of the room and they went to go eat.After a while, it started to get dark so I got my stuff I want to take a shower that came back I'll say good night to Hope and went to sleep

#the originals #the originals imagine #hope mikaelson #hope mikealson Imagine #hope mikaelson Imagine #hope x reader #void stiles #lucifer morningstar #x daughter!reader #Bonnie #powerful!reader #g!p reader #intersex!reader #vampire!reader #witch reader #Nogitsune reader #werewolf reader #legacies imagine

[useramor]

opinion on my boy scott mccall </3 (doesn’t remember shit from the show)

(this gets really long lol this is your warning but you CAN’T ask for my opinion on teen wolf and expect a short answer)

i have really mixed feelings about scott mccall.

on one hand he was a child. he was a sixteen year old boy, a high school sophomore, barely old enough to drive. he was quiet and awkward and he wanted something for himself (s1e1, him saying he needs to get a good nights sleep so he can make first line in lacrosse). his best friend showed up and asked if he didn’t want to explore something weird and gory in the woods of their small town where nothing ever happened. and scott, a kid, aid “sure” because what else are you supposed to say when your best friend wiggles his eyebrows at you with the promise of adventure?

so i feel for him. because his life became something so different without his consent. because the first girl he ever fell in love with was being raised in a family that was trying to murder him (and then died in his arms). because he didn’t have a choice in becoming a werewolf.

and that’s about how far my sympathy extends. he didn’t choose the bite but every choice that came after was his own. telling derek peter deserved to get burned alive, that the hunters must’ve had a reason for setting fire to the hale house — despite the fact that there were innocent children, innocent human children that had nothing to do with the supernatural, living in that house. his perfect golden boy morals are infuriating. scott believes he is so much better than everyone. the show wants the audience to feel this way too. but he isn’t. he turns derek in to the police in s1e7 “night school”, telling the cops that derek is the one who was threatening them, derek is the one who killed the janitor when scott knew for a fucking fact that derek had just been trying to help him. that derek wasn’t the alpha.

hell, at this point, it was more likely that deaton was the alpha.

but scott decides that it doesn’t matter. because he hates derek. because derek is a monster. because he’s a monster just like derek and he hates that.

and then season 2. god season 2 makes me horribly angry. going behind everyone’s backs, using derek — a victim of grooming, of sexual assault, who was used by gerard’s daughter to get information that got his entire family fucking murdered —, physically forcing derek to bite gerard when he fucking knows that derek sees the bite as a gift. that being a werewolf is important to derek, is something he sees as a beautiful, positive part about himself and his family and his upbringing. to manipulate derek into giving a violent man who wants him dead, who is happy about the fact his entire family died, into giving him the most precious gift derek can possibly offer? evil evil evil. and, yeah, gerard doesn’t become a werewolf because of the mountain ash in his bloodstream, but derek didn’t fucking know that. to derek, he was being used to give another argent exactly what they wanted.

he could’ve told derek. but he didn’t. didn’t tell anybody. because his morals are what are more important, he knows better than everyone, he’s the good guy. and he’s not! he’s not a good guy! dozens upon dozens of innocent people die because scott mccall refuses to kill the bad guys. because “we don’t kill people” only applies to him so he can keep his hands clean. the bad guys? hell, they can kill the whole fucking town. wipe beacon hills clean. but as long as scott doesn’t rip their throats out he’s okay. he’s the good guy.

well, sorry, but those hands are still blood stained. refusing to kill the people doing harm when you had all the power to stop them?

those deaths are still on you.

anyway! i could actually keep going. but i will not because this is already really long. teen wolf is my biggest obsession and hyperfixation of all time i have sosososo much to say about it.

tldr; scott mccall is not the perfect golden boy he wants the audience to believe he is. he’s kind of an asshole and he was mean to derek. and no one is allowed to be mean to derek. because derek is my baby sugar plum pookie bear.

your opinion on…?

#bia gets mail #anti scott mccall

[shuinami]

The fabled five babies

Names, gifts and more beneath the cut ↓

Ángel Madrigal (b. 14/02/53):

The firstborn with a gift very similar to his abuela's. Ángel's gift reveals his 'aura' at all times, but he also has the power to see someone else's with physical contact. He’s quite outspoken and blunt, despite his soft tone. Without using his gift, he's not great at reading a room.

Nora Madrigal (b. 01/01/55):

The cautious girl with the gift of invisibility. It's not necessarily that she is shy but she always wants to put her best foot forward and, if she can't, she'll just keep you from seeing her foot instead. Nora prefers to play it safe and is a total stickler when it comes to rules.

Sirena Madrigal (b. 02/05/57):

The bubbly kid with the gift to command the element of water. Much like her abuelo, she goes with the flow and tries to be a beacon of positivity. As a duo with her cousin, Leo (👀), she takes a lot of cues from Mirabel in having a glue-like presence within the family.

Pablo Madrigal (b. 23/09/62):

The most independent of his siblings with magical hair. He was born with weak vocal cords and was coddled a lot by his family, especially his mother and big brother. His gift helped him to express himself without them constantly watching over him. After (a small handful of) years of being babied whilst watching his older siblings and cousins make all the mistakes he couldn't, Pablo reckons he's a little man that can fend for himself!

Marco Madrigal (b. 21/06/64):

He's just a little guy with no gift 🥺 (although, one day he may or may not open a door to the world of psychometry).

A few more family portraits from my AU to come. I have a lot of OCs in the story 😅!

#dolores madrigal #mariano guzman #encanto oc #encanto #encanto fanart #doloriano #shuinami

[mosneakers]

Hi! It's me again, haha!

Question/Request regarding Sawyer and Brick's kids - (if you've already done this please just ignore me lol) but can we get a little bio on each of them? They are all so cute and I'd love to know more like their likes/dislikes, fave parent, fave foods, what they like to play/do in their free time - and any other lil' details you'd like to share. I know they're young, but I'd love to know more of them .. They are ALL so cute and man, Brick's genes run strong! LOL

Anyways, I love you.

Hi lovely 👋 I love this question so much, thank you!! Those genes really DO run strong, don't they?! 😆

A little info on each of Brick and Sawyer's kiddos:

Gerbit Darling

For those who don't know, Gerbit seems to mean "llama" in simlish. He's pretty much named after this cheer, which is incredibly near and dear to my heart 🥺 I wanted all of Brick and Sawyer's kids to have very classic sims names!

Gerbit is the first Gen 5 Darling, Brick and Sawyer's oldest child, and was born pretty early into Brick and Sawyer's relationship, when the two were very young and hadn't been dating long. Sawyer just left university early, and Brick just got out of jail and cancelled on the internet, losing his celebrity status as an influencer. Despite life being up in the air for the couple, Brick and Sawyer were hopeful when Gerbit was born, he was their little beacon of light ❤

Just like Brick, Gerbit isn't very gifted intellectually. However, he makes up for this with his heart of gold. He's a very sweet boy and enjoys visiting his grandparents more than anywhere else. His relatives think he'll become a family sim for sure. He's not great at making friends quite yet, but his closest friends are his cousin Minnow, and distant cousin Budgie Sparrow. (Birdie's youngest)

When it comes to Gerbit's interests, he enjoys watching heavy machinery, such as planes, trains, cranes, bulldozers, and excavators. He looooves to eat and has the glutton trait. His favorite thing to eat is Taco Casserole, but only if it's made by Grandma Donna! Like his other siblings, he loves his dad but doesn't see him much so he's a lot closer to Mom.

Belo Darling

Belo, the middle child, is named after the Belomisia Jungle in Selvadorada, to honor Sawyer's heritage.

Out of the three kids, Belo takes the most after his mom in personality, although he seems to have inherited his father's lack of intelligence, similar Gerbit. He has the angelic trait but does seem to have a short temper like Dad. However, he displays his attitude in mannerisms similar to Sawyer, with sassy eyerolls and pursing his lips in disapproval.

Belo looks up to his big brother and usually tries to emulate his behavior. If Gerbit misbehaves, Belo will too. But if Gerbit is a good boy, which is usually the case, Belo follows his lead. Belo didn't grow his first tooth or say his first word until after 18 months old. He still isn't very advanced at speaking, and the speech he does use has an impediment, he's unable to pronounce his "R"s.

He loves singing, most sports, especially baseball and football (both Simerican and real), and experimenting with Mom's makeup, which can usually be found scattered on the bathroom, livingroom, or bedroom floor. He often consumes and prefers processed foods such as microwaved chicken nuggets, microwaved breakfast burritos, and animal crackers.

Rosebud Darling

Baby Rosie, or Rosebud, is Brick and Sawyer's youngest and only daughter. She is biologically Brick's, conceived from Zoe Flores's and Brick's scandalous and juiced session that they shared in a hot tub at a party in Del Sol Valley. Most of us know the dramatic story, but basically, Zoe and her boyfriend Drew's relationship could not withstand the burden of raising another man's child, and Zoe forfeited her rights to Brick's side, and Sawyer ended up adopting her for full custody.

Despite being thrown into quite the chaotic storyline, she's always been such a happy and social baby, who just goes with the flow. She also has the angelic trait, and loves to cuddle and be carried. Being a Darling and being surrounded by the hustle and bustle of Evergreen Harbor, she's constantly surrounded by loud sounds, which she has fully embraced, and always can be kept content by playing sound for her. Like Belo, she also loves singing! When she was a baby, Sawyer's Dad and Stepmom brought fresh avocado and papaya grown from their property in Selvadorada for her to try, and she's been hooked ever since.

#ts4 #simblr love #💌 #essential Belo information #essential Rosebud information #essential Gerbit information #Gerbit Darling #Rosebud Darling #Belo Darling #MD4 #simsstuph #ask

[thiswasinevitableid]

Strange Days (Indruck)

The winner of the mer and humans on land poll was: A lighthouse keeper who doesn’t believe mer are real

“You sure you don’t wanna keep him?” Duck stares at the Newfoundland on the steps of the lighthouse. The dog stares back disdainfully. 

“Nah. Beacon’s a good dog, but my place ain’t big enough for him. Besides, it’s good to have one of those around in case you gotta rescue folks. Or you fall in.”  Leo pats him on the back, “you’ll be fine. You got a good head on your shoulders.”

Duck thanks him and says his goodbyes as the former keeper gets on his horse and rides inland. Then he walks up the stairs into the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, where he’ll be the keeper until…

Well, until he gets tired of it or dies. Leo had been keeping it since 1880, and after twenty years decided to leave the Graveyard of the Atlantic for somewhere a bit less windswept. 

After ten days of learning the ropes from Leo–and getting growled at and knocked into by Beacon–Duck prepares himself for his first night alone. Winnie, the mouser, meows at him from the steps of the staircase to the lamp. 

“Yep, guess it’s just us three.”

“Mew.”

He stares up the spiraling iron walkway, “Wish I could say that suits me fine. But I’m a shit liar.”

“Bwoof” 

“Coulda done without that agreement, Beacon.”

—--------------------------------------------------------

“It’s just by the lighthouse. You can’t miss it.”

Indrid is glad Barclay gave him that detail when directing him to his new territory; the outer banks can bleed together after a while, and being relatively new to the whole area means he’d rather not make enemies by unintentionally stepping on someone’s tail. 

He makes a full circuit of his new home, waving to Dani when she swims by on her way home. He can unpack his few belongings soon; it’s warm and calm enough this evening that he doesn’t feel like being cooped up. 

Once on the surface, he floats on his back and soaks in the sun. In his old haunts he wouldn’t have been so bold; the Colds held territory near old whaling and fishing communities up north and as a result had made a lot of enemies by ripping holes in nets or tipping over boats. Showing his face as a mer would have meant someone trying to shoot him or catch him to sell to a sideshow, as Barclay calls them (he’s been reading human newspapers more lately).

But here, on a stretch where the only visible structure is the lighthouse and the beaches are empty, he feels no fear of being in the open. One of the selling points his friends made when talking him into moving south was that this patch of sea is dangerous for ships, but safe for those who can be beneath the waves. Which means fewer fish being chased off and fewer people trying to throw nets on him. 

(Besides, since he can see the future, he has some chance of knowing when danger is coming).

He drifts and daydreams so long that the light is now beaming across the water. It transfixes him, and he climbs up onto a still-warm rock to better observe it. There must be a human in there, perhaps more. It seems a lonely location, even miserable if it becomes as story as they say. It must be a certain kind of human who is willing to take such a post. 

Indrid knows it is good manners for both humans and mers to offer gifts when you move into a neighborhood. If he and this human are to live so close, perhaps he ought to make a gesture of goodwill. 

Now if only he knew what to offer….

—-------------------------------------------------

Duck is walking the beach at the base of the lighthouse, not thinking of anything in particular, when a shine catches his eye. On a nearby, half-submerged, rock is a pile of silver. When he picks it up, it cascades to reveal a necklace studded with gems. There hasn’t been anyone on the beach all morning, and this was placed here. Not lost. 

“Plus sometimes when you’re up there you get a glimpse of a mermaid.”

“Leo, I ain’t a kid. Or a sailor who’s gone too long without, uh, company. I don’t believe in mermaids.”

The older man smiles, “Keeping the light can change some things.”

There’s no mermaid leaving treasure from sunken ships for him to find. This was just tossed here by the waves. 

He tucks it in his pocket; it’s not a bad start to a nest egg. 

—-------------------------------------------

Indrid ducks back under the waves. The human liked his gift. And stranger still, Indrid rather liked watching that human, with his dark hair and round, friendly face, accept something Indrid had chosen for him. 

If he leaves enough acceptable gifts from afar, perhaps the handsome creature will allow him to offer some in person.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

This is weird.

Two days ago, Duck found a massive Marlin, still alive, on the same rock where he found the necklace. Since he wasn’t lacking food, and felt kind of bad for it, he managed to toss it back into the sea. 

Today, he’s found a basket of fresh oysters. The basket is green, almost like it was made by seagrass. 

Once again, there’s been no one on the beach for more than a short stroll, let alone someone equipped with a boat to dive from. 

Yeah, it’s strange alright. But he really likes shellfish. He can even cook them on the beach for lunch.  Even if they’re probably washed off from a boat somewhere and definitely not left by a mermaid. 

Three nights after the oysters, Duck is in the gallery, checking everything before the lamp is lit. In the sea below, a human face and chest emerge, watching the lighthouse. The man doesn’t seem to be in distress, and it’s calm enough today that there’s been a few swimmers. 

That has to be what he is. Because Duck refuses to believe the silvery tail glinting in the sunset belongs to the swimmer. There’s no such thing as mermaids. But maybe he needs to request more books from town before his imagination completely gets away from him.

—------------------------

Indrid has just finished leaving clams for Duck when there’s a splash behind him.

“Damn it, Beacon, I told you, you don’t gotta fish people out if they’re just swimmin’!”

Indrid trills, failing to gain speed before a large mouth closes gently around his arm and begins dragging him onto the shore. The futures suggest that a struggle will lead to injury, and so he resigns himself to an undignified entrance. 

The dog shakes himself off as the lighthouse keeper hurries down the beach. 

“Sorry, uh, sir, he gets a little overeager when it comes to help….” The charming drawl peters out as the human notices his tail. 

Indrid waves both that and his hand, “Hello. My name is Indrid. I am your seaward neighbor.” He pats the dog's head, “it is nice to formally meet you both.”

The human says nothing, just stares at Indrid’s tail with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. 

“I brought some clams today, since you prefer shellfish to swimming ones.”

“....You’re a fuckin mermaid.” He murmurs. This close, Indrid can see one of his eyes is blue, the other brown. 

“Just mer is fine. We come in a wider variety than man and maid.” He cocks his head, “are you alright?”

The human sits down in the sand, “Leo was right. Y’all are just swimmin around out there.”

Indrid shifts so he’s sitting rather than on his stomach, “My presence bothers you.”

“N-yeah-uh, I, I don’t feel, uh, fuck, strong one way or the other? Fuck.” The human removes his hat, brushing sand from the top, “Look, uh-”

“Indrid. And you are..Duck? An interesting name.”

“It’s a nickname. How you know it I got know clue. Look, Indrid, it ain’t personal. In fact you seem real friendly. But I spent my whole life trying to tell myself this kinda thing is just old wives tales. I feel all…outta sorts.”

“Ah. I see. I will leave you in peace. I know what it is like to feel as if you have unwanted company.”

“It ain’t even that. If I’m bein’ honest, I don’t mind company. I just need a little time to take it all in.”

“Shall I…come back tomorrow, then?” 

“Sure. Just not too late, I gotta make sure I’m minding the light when I’m supposed to.”

“Very well. Just after that bell in town rings noon?”

“That works, yeah.”

“Should I bring clams or oysters?”

Duck meets his eyes with a bemused, but friendly, smile, “Wouldn’t say no to some snapper.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Can you hear it from there?” Duck calls out the window of the keepers cottage. 

“Yes!” Indrid grins at him from the beach, then continues turning his catch—a massive flounder–humming as his silver tail gleams in the sunlight. 

Satisfied that they’ll be able to pick up the second episode of The Outlaw on the radio while they eat an early dinner, Duck heads out to join him, two bottles of Coke in hand. Indrid adores sweet drinks, and if Duck could bring him a strawberry phosphate from town, he would. 

Since Indrid became an undeniable element of his life, Duck has seen him almost every day for the last two months. And if he’s honest with himself (or with Winnie, who listens as he fusses over all this out loud), when he doesn’t see the mer for a day or more he gets worried that something has happened to him. 

The Outlaws theme blares to life as Duck divvys up the fish. Usually the two of them will talk during dinner, but after the first minute of action Indrid’s focus is entirely on the radio, and he barely eats until the program is over. When the announcer says to tune in next week, the mer gives an indignant chir. 

“But I wish to know what happens now. Will the sheriff simply ride off now that the outlaw has let him go? Or will he follow him into town? What if they never see each other again??”

Duck chuckles, “guessin they will, if only so they can make more episodes.”

“Promise you will let me listen again?”

“Of course, ‘Drid. I like your company. Pardner” he exaggerates his accent on the last word and Indrid laughs.

“You would make a very dashing lawman. I assume.”

Duck nudges his toes against Indrid’s tail “Thanks, but this life is plenty exciting for me.”

The mer goes silent for a moment, then he asks, “Duck? Why were you so bothered when you first knew of me? Is it because that is too much excitement?”

“Not exactly. I’ve had…weird stuff happen to me most of my life. Blue, glowing women turn up in my bedroom. There are lights in the sky near my hometown no one can explain. A friend of mine when on some scientific research trip and swears that something bit him and that he can’t remember what happens to him on the full moon. And all I ever wanted for myself was a quiet life. To do what made me happy without the fear of it all bein’ upended or dangerous. The weird shit always made me…nervous. Maybe that makes me a fool or coward but…I dunno.”

“I do not think it does.” Indrid moves closer, “I left home for the same reason. To not be looking over my shoulder all the time. But…since strange things have found you..perhaps you and he could look out for each other?”

Duck wants to kiss him. Red-brown eyes are so earnest, so hopeful, that he’s certain he could and Indrid would melt in his arms. 

Beacon howls from the house as a warning comes over the radio of a storm. 

“Dear me, it’s early.” 

“Guess I better get my ass in gear. You gonna be okay?”

“As long as I am deep enough, it will not catch me.” Indrid takes his hand, rubbing it against his cheek, “take care, Duck.”

“I will. I’ll see you when it’s over.”

—-------------------------------------------------

Duck takes back every single bad thing he’s ever said about Beacon. The dog’s barking is the only reason he goes to the door of the lighthouse and looks out. In the roaring, ripping wind and rain, a figure has been tossed to the rocks at the base of the house. 

Indrid. 

He drags the mer inside, nearly being blow off his feet. He’s glad he’s kept up the floor of living quarters in here, and even gladder that said room is only three floors up. 

“Fuck, fuck, ‘Drid, can you hear me?” He lays the mer on the floor, his chest and tail scratched and bruised from the rocks, “goddamn it, you told me you were gonna stay deep!”

“There was a future where you Winnie slipped the door and you went after her and drowned.” Indrid murmurs, then chirps in pain, “I wanted to be here in case you did, so I could, could save you. The wave took me by surprise. I am sorry.”

“Why are you fuckin sorry, you got hurt because of me.”

“Yes, but you now risked your life for something strange, which I did not wish you to do.”

Duck cradles him closer and kisses him once, gently. Indrid trills, surprised, and then purrs and wraps his arms around Duck’s damp shoulders. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, that’s the worst fuckin moment for this but I just...’Drid, you may be the weirdest fuckin’ thing in my life but you’re also the best. Everyday I wake up happier because I know I’ll see this fuckin’ stunnin face in the waves, looking for me.”

Indrid kisses him, tasting of the storm, “And everyday I surface with a heart lighter than the sun because I know you will be in the lighthouse.” He strokes Duck’s cheek, “my brave keeper.”

Duck rests their foreheads together, “Don’t that work out nice?”

“It does. And since you are about to ask, yes, please get the bathing tub you’ve been keeping outside; the collected water will be enough to wait out the storm. And after that…well, I have some ideas for how to pass the rest of the day.”

Duck trails his fingers up Indrids’ tail, savoring the way it flexes under his touch, “I’m all ears, darlin.”

#indrid cold/duck newton #indruck #mermay #duck x indrid #human/monster romance #taz amnesty

[evilrwbyfan]

dumb headcanons i made during class (some have heavy bias, some are heavyv projections)

all of team strq has anger issues, each of them deal with it differently and some deal with it better than others. tai and qrow are probably the most chillaxed regarding their temper

raven has always found summer intimidating and looks up to her, her crush started around their second year at beacon

ruby hates having dry skin

weiss doesn’t do well with physical touch, but she usually always accepts small stuff like hand holding and shoulder holding, ruby being the exception with more bigger forms of physical affection

raven’s love languages are acts of service, words of affirmation, and physical touch

raven listens to 90s alternative rock when she actually feels like listening to music

yang has a minecraft youtube that she makes videos with, usually showing off her private builds or reviewing mods

weiss cannot be trusted in video games, she will destroy everything unintentionally

ruby bakes, yang grills, blake cooks, and weiss does absolutely nothing. dont trust her near the kitchen

summer is a comic nerd like ruby, before she died she had a box or two just of comic books that have been lent to ruby

blake makes music but she is a beginner. she takes tips from weiss

ruby and sun are fans of weiss’ music, think of swifties sort of likers

raven and cinder’s odd relationship started during their teamup, one night they had a hookup and haven’t stopped having flings every so often. their relationship is built up on hatesex stress-relieving (aka pretty unhealthy) but overtime, they end up falling for the other in some sort of sense and neither of them know what to do

raven still has summer’s cape, she sleeps with it sometimes

ruby’s love languages are quality time, physical touch, and words of affirmation

90% of the rwby cast are trans and gay

during their beacon years, qrow would taunt raven with her crush on summer since he most likely wouldve found out before the others

despite summer’s resentment towards raven, she still cares about her and misses her. she doesnt do anything about it though, both of them know raven can’t really come back from that

winter plays shooters and she’s a fucking boss at it

penny had a youtube where she talked about betta fish (*smiling*)

penny enjoyed walks through the night

blake and yang make card towers together to pass the time, ruby joins in occasionally

cinder is illiterate due to her upbringing

blake probably listens to k-pop and if not blake, then definitely ruby

if fnaf exists in rwby, ruby is a fnaf kid

pyrrha was a painter and taught weiss how to use watercolors. weiss doesn’t paint as much as she used to because of her association of it with pyrrha

ruby and pyrrha did gardening together, granted pyrrha was mainly in control of the garden. ruby was really just there to spend time with her, but she did help with what she could

yang had a small crush on pyrrha when she was around

penny liked to collect things, no matter what it was. usually nature sort of stuff, like rocks and sticks, maybe even sand until it got everywhere

penny made paper puppets

before flash got shut down, sun would make shitty sonic flash games

sun was a newgrounds kid

neo uses her semblance to reach tall things and to bring stuff to her when she doesn’t wanna stand

raven cries listening to autoheart (cause it’s funny)

neon uses her tail to bring people closer to her or to “hold their hands”

ruby always thought neon was cute

summer’s love languages are quality time, physical touch, and gift giving

cinder has trouble connecting with people and she doesn’t try to, so when she felt an unsettling feeling in her stomach due to neo’s (and emerald’s lol) absence she didn’t know how to deal with it

^ (adding onto the emerald note) cinder convinces herself she doesn’t really care about Emerald, because for the most part it IS true, but she was oddly hurt to see Emerald’s change. She got attached to Emerald during their time together (mainly because of emerald’s OWN attachment), but she was never aware of it

blake likes to sleep under beds, but she doesnt tell anyone

90% of the rwby cast is autistic

RUBY IS AUTISTIC!!!!!! and has ptsd (pretty sure the ptsd one is canon tho)

raven has bpd and ptsd

ruby has a lot of ocs she doesnt know what to do with. she doesn’t even remember most of their names

emerald is a roleplayer

weiss prefers to follow schedules and routines heavily

pyrrha and ruby probably wouldve bonded over the pressure of high expectations, being a leader/a warrior, and ended up getting closer that way

during beacon, summer was always the one to make sure raven got to class on time, she would either be late or just try skipping usually. there were rare moments where raven convinced summer to skip with her, just to be alone together

#rwby #planning to write morrr laterrrr #team strq #strq #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #raven branwen #summer rose #taiyang xiao long #qrow branwen #cinder fall #emerald sustrai #theres like... ONE thats ripped off from twitter #winter schnee #pyrrha nikos #neon katt #neopolitan #sun wukong #penny polendina #this is mainly centered around my fav characters soooo #also some of these were written with shipping in mind #but i think they could work in a platonic sense too #omg maybe even qpr #ill be tagging the ships since it counts #whiterose #rosebird #milk and cereal rwby #pyrruby

[shallowstories]

Dean vs 8PackMommy

From November 2022, reposting for compilation and editing purposes.

(En media res) Dean is attending an influencer event, attempting to butter up the socialite otherwise known as 8PackMommy. Cas arrives:

///

When 8PackMommy meets Cas, Dean doesn’t know what he’d been expecting from her, but it certainly wasn’t this blasé,who-cares attitude.

She’s not, like, moved by him at all. Worse, she thinks he’s shabby. Washed up. definitely not influencer material. She doesn’t say it outright, but Dean gets the message loud and clear.

And it’s not like they’re angling to get Cas an in or anything. (He’s here as a journalist.) But bare minimum, objectively, she should view Cas as a diamond in the rough.

Sure, he’s not a good dresser, and maybe he forgets to brush his hair sometimes, but the fact that he doesn’t care about all that (for the most part) is kind of appealing, too. An influencer who specializes in recruitment should be able to recognize baseline appeal.

Dean’s used to Cas impressing people. His mom, Charlie, rando hunters, Men-of-Letter agents, minimum-wage waitresses—you know—people. It sends an unpleasant jolt up his spine that she’s so…lukewarm.

///

When Cas shuffles over to mock-interview him, Dean wants to reach up and mess with his hair. Dean had finally trained him how to style it after all these years, and he doesn’t bother on the one day he really should. He sticks out like a sore thumb against all these plastic zoomers with airbrushed muscles.

Cas has an oversized bag full of something Dean isn’t in the know about.

“I thought you were here as a journalist.”

Cas whispers, “Rowena thought this was better. It’s…artisan coffee. She even had it, uhm, branded.”

Dean reaches forward and twines his fingers around the gift bag handle, his knuckles brushing against Cas’s fingers. “No shit? Hey, it’s heavy…what do you have in here, rocks?”

“No, Dean. It’s three different blends. “Sam told me ‘home’ was the brand look and feel.”

Sure enough, there are about 12 bundles of carefully designed packages.

“I told Sam to figure something out, but man. Anyone here look homey to you? These kids are hokey voodoo woodoo. We’d be better off pretending to sell kale chips.”

Cas’s eyes grow warmer, and he flicks his eyes down to Dean’s shirt. “You do.”

Whatever words Dean’d been thinking of die on his tongue.

“The idea,” Cas whispers leaning far too close, “is to intrigue 8PackMommy. She sells the concept of ‘being a mom,’ but her social media looks, as you said, very Stepford. This will ‘niggle at her brain,’ according to Rowena.”

“Tch. Well, good luck making that bitch-perfect little Mary Poppins feel insecure.”

Cas pulls out a spreadsheet that Sam had prepared for him. It’s got a listing of all the coffees and some estimates for…travel expenses?

“The pitch isn’t just to give out products, Dean. It’s to fly the family to a company-paid, week-long vacation to use the product and create ‘homey’ content,” he rumbles confidently.

Sounds pretty damn nice. And a sure-fire way to get her isolated to see how she’s connected to her missing husband.

“That near Donna’s place?”

“That’s the idea. There are three cabins for pretense, yes. You’ll be in one of them, of course.”

Cas raises his voice suddenly and pulls out a black book. “I think you’ll be a perfect fit, Mr. Singer. Of course we can talk travel details later.”

8Pack is hovering nearby, like the whiff of money is a homing beacon.

Dean scoffs, playing along. “A week in the friggin’ mountains? Sweet! Y’all aren’t greedy with the amenities!”

Dean sees her flip her hair and smooth her Bohemian skirt before sauntering over. “Well, hello,” she greets, practically elbowing Dean out of the way.

“Hello, Cas says blankly. “We met earlier.”

She looks vaguely embarrassed. “Oh. I’m sorry if I was rude. I tend to get a little frazzled at these events, even with all my experience.”

Sure. Frazzled.

“I’m Carl Karamatov,” Cas says. “Not easy to remember.”

She sways closer to him, then swivels her eyes curiously to the bag Dean is holding. “Artisan coffee? Better be beans.”

“Nothin’ wrong with ground,” Dean says gruffly.

“And who’re you again?” she lilts, bringing a perfectly manicured hand up to a jutting hip.

Dean bristles. He’s already introduced himself to her six times. Without waiting for a response, she wrenches the bag from his hand and shrewdly inspects the merchandise.

“Not to tell you how to run your brand,” her eyes fall judgmentally on Dean before going back to Cas, “But scouting for talent is actually my specialty when I’m not promoting my own brand. You’ve probably heard of it: 8PackMommy? I specialize in cheating The Life so moms everywhere can have it all and look good doing it.”

Cas feints looking surprised. “Your instagram photos don’t do you justice,” he says.

A smile bleeds across her face. “Th-thank you.”

Now, she looks more affected. Ha, Dean thinks triumphantly.

“Anyway, your brand…it looks more upscale than hick, if you catch my drift.” She cuts her eyes at Dean.

Dean grits his teeth.

Hick?

///

When she finally leaves, it’s with a promise to reach out to Sam or Carl “early next week to discuss the sponsorship opportunity.”

She honestly hadn’t thought Family Coffee Co. was a great fit for her frou-frou (and in Dean’s opinion uppity, sterile, n’ fake) personal brand. But the week-long vacay opportunity had wooed her. And she’d heard of Donna, the unofficial face of their little operation, which had helped lend a lil’ credibility.

“I hope she calls Sam. She’s exhausting to talk to.”

Something about that makes Dean’s guts writhe in triumph.

“Know what? She is. She’s like a bridezilla without the wedding.”

Cas nods but looks like he hasn’t the slightest idea what Dean means. Whatever. He’s always wanted to show Cas Say Yes to The Dress, and there’s definitely some bridezilla episodes that Dean can queue up.

“So. Donna really have 10K followers?”

“It’s over twelve thousand according to Claire and Alex.”

“Jesus. For her posing with donuts.”

“Donuts in a variety of different locales.”

#fic ideas #dean vs 8packmommy #dean + mommy blogs #dean + devastatingly handsome #8packmommy #eightpackmommy #half baked ideas #tfw + internet #tfw + undercover #tfw + social media #donna #wayward daughters #tfw + influencers #dean/cas #case fic

[unwilling-souls-if]

What would the ROs reactions be to MC saying they are worried they’re smothering the ROs?

Hi! Here are some sweet reassuring ROs for you <3

Xander: “Please don’t.” Those are the first words leaving his mouth. Xander does not want MC to feel whatever bad type of way with how they express their love, ever. They’re the light in his life, the beacon of hope that fills his heart with warmth. So when they admit softly to their worries, Xander feels his heart break a little for them. Who could have made them believe they could be too much? “You are perfect.” Xander would make an effort to take even more care of MC and make sure to erase their doubts. He wants them to know how much of a gift to him they are.

Charlotte: Charlotte is very attached to her lover. One of her main insecurities is her clinginess. If someone feels smothering, Charlotte fears it might be her. When MC confides to her that they feel like they are smothering her, her brain just stops working. How is that possible? How could she feel smothered when MC is simply being their amazing self? Charlotte considers herself so lucky to have MC and could never register them as “smothering”, and would gladly tell them so. How about a movie night, where MC could be as smothering as they want?

Dione: Dione bites her lip. She is cold, she knows it. The fear that she may have been too distant with MC, enough to make them believe their company is unwelcome, seizes her heart. There is a sickness in her stomach at the mere idea she could have made MC feel this way. She reaches for their hand and stares them in the eyes as she softly whispers as many reassurances as she can. “You could never smother me, darling” “I can’t get enough of you” “I love you, MC”

Perceval: It takes them a few moments to register what MC just said. Smothering? MC? It’s not really the adjective Perceval would have used for them. Something like “loving”, “sweet”, “wonderful” seems more fitting. Perceval is more worried that they have done something to make MC feel bad about how they behave in their relationship. Ensues a healthy discussion about feelings, filled with soft reassuring touches and subtle declarations of love, because Perceval can’t express their gratitude enough. They love  MC and they are not scared to tell them.

Crescent: A blink. Two blinks. “Are you kidding me?” They just can’t believe it. Why would MC think that they’re being smothering to them? Sure, Crescent themselves struggle with expressing their own feelings, and they can appear a bit scared of too big shows of love. But they do admire how MC seems so comfortable telling and showing them they love them. They adore it, even. It doesn’t feel smothering to them at all. Crescent simply shrugs MC’s insecurity off, opening their arms for a long hug and peppering their face with light kisses with a smirk. “We’ll see who can be the most smothering, love”

Thank you so much for the ask! :)

#ro:dione #ro:crescent #ro:charlotte #ro:perceval #ro:xander #some comforting vibes here #<3

[dreamwatch]

Thank you to @greenlikethesea for the tag! I LOVE BEING TAGGED!

It’s WIP WednesdaySaturday Tuesday Friday. Time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works: In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names. Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share. That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited! If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

File Names:

Like A Stone

Dustin & Eddie

Eddie Hands One Shot

Steve & Eddie 90s

Prison Fic

Snippet from Like A Stone Below:

****

“Hey dickhead I brought you a gift,” Steve grabs Eddie by the shoulders steering him over to Dustin and Eddie’s not sure if that’s for support or to stop him running away.

Mike looks genuinely excited to see him and gives him a crushing hug. It’s not like they haven’t seen each other lately, but it’s usually at Eddie’s place and saying he’s been low energy would be an understatement. They come to the trailer for him more than themselves, as if they think bringing him video rentals will somehow bring him to life again.  He wishes it was that easy. 

He pats Mike on the back to break the hug before making his way over to Dustin.

“Happy birthday, Henderson.”

Dustin manages to muster up an unconvincing smile, and Eddie will give him a few points for effort. “Thanks, Eddie.”

They hug awkwardly before Steve steps in to save him. “You want your present? Unless you’ve already stolen it from my room.”

“Of course I haven’t!” Dustin rounds on him. “I have manners, Steve. My beautiful mother raised me well.” Eddie watches as Dustin beams at his mom, blowing her a kiss, and she beams right back and catches it in her hand, puts it in her pocket. It’s incredibly sweet and a younger version of himself would be too bitter and jealous to appreciate such a sickly display of affection, but this Eddie is older and has seen some shit so he smiles at Dustin despite the pang of longing in his chest.

He hands over the bag while Steve heads off to get his. 

“Uh, you don’t have to open it now, or anything, you know. Just. Like, whenever.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, feeling awkward. His eyes are darting around the room, half looking for exits and half looking to see if he’s being stared at. There are a couple of kids trying to get a glimpse without looking too obvious, and a couple of adults in the kitchen giving him the stink eye. He’s getting increasingly itchy to leave.

Before he can think about that further Steve wanders back to save him. And isn’t that a weird fucking thing to be thinking right now? That Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington is the person he’s coming to see as a beacon in a dark sea. Jesus.

He watches Dustin rifle through the gift bag.

“My Little Pony, Steve? I’m sixteen you asshole!”

“That’s just the paper, dickhead, I didn’t actually buy you a doll.”

Eddie smiles. “How do you feel about the Care Bears?”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin shakes his head as if he’s talking to children. 

Eddie grabs a coke and heads into the backyard. The Henderson’s living room isn’t exactly huge and it’s stifling and honestly just being here and showing up is a big deal, right? So he heads off into the yard hoping to find a space to breathe.

It all feels very weird. He was barely out of the hospital this time last year and he had bigger concerns than Dustin’s birthday. It must be hard for Dustin, with half the party missing, along with the extra additions they bring with them - Erica, Nancy, Jonathan. Eddie knows how that feels. He misses the band, more than he will admit to anyone else. And he misses Hellfire, and the huge hole it left behind. The guys, yeah of course, but the sticking up for the guys. The lunch time rabble rousing. God it was fun. 

He misses having fun. He misses feeling light, unburdened. He misses not being frightened.

He misses his life.

He finds a ratty lawn chair that looks like it should take his weight  and lowers himself into it. There’s a couple of women out here he doesn’t recognise, likely friends of Mrs Henderson, and a few more kids. Eddie can’t fathom having this many friends anymore. Did he ever?

“Eddie?”

Fuck. 

“Hey man,” Eddie says, moving to stand up, and… what? Shake his hand? Who is he that he can’t interact with his friends anymore? (Are they even still friends?)

Gareth waves him off, “Sit down, dude. Dustin said your leg is still fucked, you don’t need to stand.”

Right. Was it naive to think they wouldn’t be talking about him? Probably.

The atmosphere is fucking thick with unsaid words and unhealed wounds. He hasn’t seen Gareth in months. It’s been bad enough trying to fight his way through with Dustin and Mike, but Gareth is a different ballgame. They have history. 

****

As always, no pressure, I know some of you guys aren't writing right now, but have a friendly boop on the nose from me. (also, genuinely - if I tag you and you really never want to hear from me again, like cease and desist and shit, please say and I will start keeping a list, because my old fart brain just never remembers!).

@farahsamboolents @cchapsticck @devilyouwere @thisapplepielife @hbyrde36 @cuips-not-cute @occasionaloverboy

And opposite applies, if you're thinking 'bitch never tags me' please let me know and I will legit make a list. I'm always worried about annoying people and they ⬆️ haven't told me to fuck off yet so I keep tagging them. 🤣

#my wips #wip wednesday #wip friday #wip weekend #WIP every fucking day of the week!

[sophie0197]

Ways in which I am forced to kin Will Byers because what the fuck

- infp

- he's named Will the Wise by others and himself, my name is Sophie after the Greek word Sofia "wisdom" (and yes my parents made a point to name me this because of the meaning behind it and kept telling me about it for so long djsfkhfdjs they were manifesting i guess)

- he's an artist and has drawn all his life, specifically for other people as a way to socialize and connect to people and express things he can't vocalize easily

- canonly a gifted kid/precocious (could read earlier than others and advanced litterature) based on the comics where he says he reads advanced 16yr old litt at like 10-11 THIS IS SUCH A CALLOUT

- he loves Dragons tigers dinosaurs and fantasy <3

- he's quite reserved, but always has a good word of advice for people

- he can't fucking talk about his own problems even tho talking would litterally solve them

- low self esteem issues

- can't defend himself for shit

- smol

- has been bullied for being different/the weird kid and it was frustrating bc he only was being himself, got a strong feeling of injustice bc of it

- is gay and mostly closeted

- has a bad history with the medical field from a young age, being observed and trying to get "fixed" and privacy invaded, and it impacted his self esteem

- lowkey parental abuse from one of the parents

- divorced parents

- refuses to grow up and it's affecting his relationships and life in a bad way, but also he is a beacon of light in people's lives because sometimes keeping your younger self is good actually

- loves science but sucks at maths

- gives his most prized possessions to others just because. It's to make someone else happy. (i once gave a nintendo to a friend bc he never had any console and my parents pretty much killed me but also were impressed how i did not give a fuck)

- please observe,,,, these drawings fjkhsdfhs

#will byers #he is so oddly specific jdfkhdsfhds #there it is i posted my first kin ever yeii