astrothebunny · 3 minutes ago
Kinda nervous to post this! Wrote this when I was in a really emotional place. This is kind of how my thought process goes when I get caught in one of my emotional cycles.
 Tw: Self deprecating thoughts and feeling pretty bad about ones self 
“Its okay. I get it. I kind of expect you to be sad at this point. It's just a thing with you. I’m sorry I asked so much.”
The feeling of their chest caving in isn't a new feeling, They feel it far more often than most. The sentence said shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did but they already feel the words fading into the background noise that is their inner thoughts. 
“I’m sorry I asked so much.” The words echoed through their head and they realized it had gotten bad again. They had been trying so hard to be happy, to function as normal, that when they did they let their guard down and spiraled back into old habits. Their partner shouldn't be afraid to ask them to do things. 
“I know.” They say, swallowing back tears. What right do they have to cry? This is all their fault anyway. “I don’t know why I’m sad.” They almost plead. They’re not lying. They have everything they could ever want, the love of their life, a stable job and everything they could ever need. “You make me so happy. I don’t know why I’m so sad.” That's only a partial lie. They know that they hate themselves so much that they project it into other peoples words and actions.  
“It doesn’t feel like I make you happy.” another heavy swallow. Why does their spit feel so thick? They don’t deserve to cry. 
“I know.” They know how they act. They do their best to pretend they’re happy when they’re not, even when they are. They also know that that doesn't make much sense. “I love you. I'm sorry.” Is what they say. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” They feel the lack of the I love you, even though logically they know their partner loves them, so incredibly much. Enough to understand. It still doesn't stop them from noticing it. Their partner pulls them close and wipes their tears. Their partner loves them so much, they can feel it and they know but that voice never goes away. They accept the comfort of homes arms. 
“Its not your fault I’m sad. Please believe me.” They’re desperate for them to know.
“I do love. I just wish I could make it better.”  
“You do. In more ways than you know.” They’re truthful. Their partner is their rock in more ways than they’d like to admit. They wish they had the strength to carry it on their own. 
“I’m not going to leave you.” They know. They should know. They want to be sure.
“I can’t afford to think that I cant lose you.” They can’t. They have to be better. Better than this. “You are my reason for everything, you know?” Their partner does. They understand so much. 
“I’m sorry I asked so much.”
They just wish it didn't still hurt so much.
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tkaywk · 44 minutes ago
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alteredphoenix · an hour ago
Vacation’s off to a quiet start so I’m working on fics while it’s still early and my motivation and mood allow me to focus during the downtime so here’s hoping I can try to get at least two (maybe three) drabbles/one-shots out by the time I go back to work next week. See how things go, I never liked pushing myself that hard to get something written and out into the AO3 void despite The Muse screaming to do so it in the back of my mind.
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transcendentalpisces · an hour ago
Dissecting our spiritual contract
Disclaimer: using tropical, western astrology whole signs. Trigger warning ⚠️
The 8H in astrology is associated with (blood) ties, magick, the occult, secrecy, (financial) inherited (curses/gifts), death/rebirth, contracts and karmic loops to name a few. So whatever sign and placements are within this house tell us a lot about the inherited loops/cycles we exist within as it relates to our blood bind with our genealogy.
Given that we’ve lived many lives and have astral access to all lives and people we have and will be related to, this may not make sense multidimensionally. However, we must remember that in each life we are binded, by blood, to certain people, places and situations that we have “lessons” with to clear.
The womb in the feminines body is a place where the spirit, or consciousness, crystallizes and is able to then manifest a physical human also known as a baby. This baby is tied to the mother through the umbilical chord, which is then cut and in doing so severs (at least physically) the babe from the mother. It is with the ebbs and flows of the moon, her blood time, which allows this sacred housing to even be possible within her. The blood that is shed each month is a force vital to creation. 🩸🤰🏿
Sometimes, we reincarnate into particular bloodlines because of the ties already made within them that closely link to our unique, personal spiritual contract 📝. These bloodlines have their own codes that we integrate into. Using the sign, lord of the 8H and it’s aspecting planets can paint a better picture of this contract and the details/clauses apart of it.
The reoccurring themes within a family whether that be lack or abundance of [it] can be energetically seen within this house as well. For example if you have Leo in the 8H there could be blood ties surrounding performance/entertainment, self expression, attitude, the heart, to name a few (for example, being born within a family of entertainers whether it means everyone cries wolf, or is actually in the line of career. 🫀🫀🫀 Heart focus within the family).
If the 8H is in Scorpio there could be themes surrounding the genitals, broken promises, magick/spell work, abuse, security (for example, being born within a family of hiding (sexual) abusers, power struggles, 🧙🏾‍♀️ spell work within the family for other members’ demise).
Knowing about one’s 8H, allows the astrologer (person dissecting the chart) to edit this contract consciously while facing these themes head on.
Credit to: True Brilliance, Claire Nakti
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moodymisty · 15 hours ago
Thank you for the Din headcanons I couldn’t stop smiling while reading them😊. It’s been on my mind recently but how would The Bad Batch teach the Reader how to do what they were made to? Would they make good teachers? Would they want to teach the Reader at all? I have my own ideas but I’d love to know your opinions as well. Enjoy the rest of your day/evening!
Author's note: I'm glad you liked them! I was going to finish some fics ive had baking, but it seems my brain wanted to do this right away so, enjoy!
I hope someone likes my very specific characterizations of these boys lol
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✎ Tech I feel like is the type of person who really, genuinely enjoys teaching people. He loves nothing more than to blab about something, and almost vibrates into another plane of existence at the idea of someone being interested in something he's interested in enough to actually want to learn from him.
It's just the way he teaches that sometimes ends up raising problems.
He tends to gloss over smaller steps he deems trivial assuming you know them, or goes far too fast for the average person to keep up with. But after he ends up becoming closer to you, Omega, or both of you, he begins to realize that no one else is wired the way he is and he needs to slow his brain down one or two notches. It's admittedly hard for him to do; And it’s often the reason his brothers try to avoid getting stuck in that sort of situation. He's trying his best, just bear with him a bit he’s trying and please don’t leave, because he’s really enjoying this.
He just sometimes forgets that not everyone knows the most efficient layout for a motherboard's electrical path, and glossed over that part. But if you stick with him you'll probably end up sitting around for hours chatting and working on something together.
He also tends to get extremely lovey dovey in these moments, so expect plenty of kisses to the temple and cheek when you do something right.
✎ Depending on your preferred learning style, Crosshair would probably be the best, or worst teacher you could possibly have. And this is providing he even accepts your half joking request anyways; As for the first while you know him, the answer will undoubtedly be no.
It just takes a bit for him to warm up to the idea of you, like some sort of pouty, borderline feral loth cat. Once he is, he's more apt to the idea. And if anything, he may come to you, under the guise of showing off or sating your curiosity.
If you're someone who just wants someone to show you what to do, and then step back while you learn from your mistakes, he's your man. He doesn't hover, but he'll point out if the butt of the rifle is not against your shoulder right so you don't get a nasty bruise. If you don’t listen, he’ll get a good chuckle out of it.
He largely sees trying to teach you something as an opportunity for you to be alone together, and to show you something he's good at. He just enjoys the act of actually having something to talk about he knows well, like the back of his hand. He secretly gets a little happy if you enjoy it too, but he doesn't exactly show it.
✎ Wrecker has the best intentions, but sometimes they don’t turn out perfectly. He'd love nothing more than to teach you but often times it turns from 'teaching' to 'lets do something fun that'll probably get us both in trouble'.
Working out turns into messing around and someone breaking something, bomb wiring turns into a situation where there's -for a split second- a fear you might blow everyone up; And loading the Marauder turns into you climbing around the storage compartments like a stowaway loth cat until you’re stuck and someone more lithe like Tech or Hunter has to help.
So while in theory Wrecker has a ton of things he'd love to show you, teach you, and do with you, most of the time, that ends up not happening.
If anything it kind of works out in its own way; You end up learning by doing and in the progress, Wrecker gets his own little explosive enthusiast who also looks adorable when there’s soot you accidentally rubbed on your face, and he tries to rub it off but only makes it worse.
✎ Hunter is honestly probably the best all around teacher. He is patient enough and helpful, and provided it's not anything too dangerous (he’s already busted you and Wrecker trying to build flashbangs not once, not twice, but three times) he'll show you.
But while you'll never be able to do things on the level that he can thanks to his incredible senses, he can teach you all the little tricks he's learned; And ends up making you one hell of a tracker in the process. It ends up being a helpful set of skills to have, especially post Order-66.
He enjoys the walks in nature he takes with you while teaching you, listening to animals or tracking footprints, trying to learn the way animals(and people) move and the habits they have.
And, Hunter can't exactly help being a little prideful when he sees you are getting damn good at it, and know that he's the one that taught you.
✎ Echo's someone who refuses your notion at teaching you at first under the pretense he thinks he would be an awful teacher. This is something that's particularly true if he sees you as a gentler soul than he is; He's got that ARC Trooper mentality, and doesn't want to end up hurting your feelings.
He ends up finding a middle ground of you watching him, and injecting a bit of conversation every now and again.
But as time passes, Echo ends up slowly over time teaching you how to help with his cybernetics; And thus learning about cybernetics in general.
It's normally Tech that does it, particularly any sort of upgrade and while Tech is great; There's something about you that’s much more soothing. Tech is, clinical to say the least, and working with particularly his legs is traumatic at times. He prefers teaching you how to do it, and feeling your more gentle touch and voice.
And as a side effect you end up getting quite good with the stuff, particularly problem solving; As Echo's enhancements are far from standard. And as such eventually Tech (abit grumpily) allows you to just handle everything for Echo apart from any emergencies or critical things.
And something that was once pretty hard for Echo actually turns into a bit of a teaching moment, as he points and guides your hands around masses of wires and metal.
He's a great teacher you say at one point, and then quickly laugh at how his face noticeably heats up.
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bellysoupset · 19 hours ago
Wanna do a fic where Vince finally reckons with Wendy and forgives her (albeit begrudgingly) for the Pussy Magnet incident? Either one can be the sickee but we definitely gotta see Vince’s tender side come out. Whether it’s from seeing her in a vulnerable state, or from realizing that holy shit those back rubs and gentle forehead touches checking for a temp are actually feeling really good, I wanna see them get closer with each other!
So this got a little plot, so disclaimer: It's a long read. Still I'm very happy with it! Tingling romance is my jaaam, thank you for the request!!
"Okay, I get why Lucas has to go," Vince said slowly, "because Bell wants to go and him and Jonah have this weird shared history-" which he was absolutely not jealous about, "and I get why you want to go since you two are friends or whatever," he continued, pointing at Leo, "but why do I need to go?"
Leo glared at him, not in the mood to humor Vince's bullshit today, "because you're his friend even if you pretend you're not and it's his birthday. I expect you to be bring a gift, be there at seven, sharp."
"Sharp," Vince repeated, sarcastically as Leo picked up his gym bag and barged off the gym. He sighed, now not only he was going to a party he didn't want to go to, but he had to wrap the gift he had gotten for Jonah.
Jonah was a fancy motherfucker who, unlike Lucas, made sure people knew it at all times. His birthday party was in the restaurant that was in the terrace of the fanciest business building in town.
Vince grimaced, looking around for his friends, fidgeting in the formal pants and the itchy blazer. He hated dressing up -
"Oh look at you," a voice said from behind him and he turned around to find Bella, who looked just as out of place as he did, "you clean up nice, Vin."
"Almost as well as you do," he smiled, kissing her cheek. Her auburn hair was up in a messy bun that he knew was not purposefully messy, but looked good nonetheless. He could count in one hand the amount of times he had seen Bell in a dress, but the simple mini black dress suited her well, "where's Luke?"
"Hiding somewhere," Bella grinned, "this place is packed full with his high school buddies."
Vince looked around, feeling twenty times more self conscious now. It was bad enough being in a fancy party, but it was worse knowing the people around him, full of judgment, were his best friend's old acquaintances.
"I thought he went to high school in Switzerland or some shit?"
"I did," Lucas grumbled, thumping his back as he appeared and then wrapping an arm around Bell, "Jonah kept in touch with a bunch of the guys, they've flown in to see him."
"Christ", Vince frowned, "where's the birthday bo-"
He cut himself short as he saw Jonah.
Jon, with a brilliant smile on his face, chatting with Wendy and a bunch of other people from med school.
"Not her," Vince pouted and then heard a hum in affirmation.
"He's been glued to her all night," Leo said from his right, downing a flute of champagne, "it's been hell."
Vince raised his eyebrows, he knew why he was bitter towards Wendy, but he had no idea what she could've possibly done to upset Leo, of all people, who was a ball of sunshine.
"Have you met?" Lucas asked, while Bella studied Jonah and Wendy, her blue eyes squinting and sparkling as if they were a puzzle piece.
"She's the med student who checked on me at the hospital when I had the flu, past month."
"Oh," Lucas frowned, "then why don't you lik-"
"They're coming over."
"I have eyes, Leo, thanks," Vince scoffed, only to force a plastic smile as Jonah walked their way, pulling Wendy by the hand. Literally what the fuck was up with those two?
"Hey guys-"
"Hi Pussy Magnet," Wendy said, her voice all bubbly and Vince's cheeks burned, while Leo scowled at her, "how are you tonight?"
"I was fine until now," he glared at her, while Bella raised her eyebrows.
"Pussy Magnet? Do I wanna know what this is about?"
"You do, girl," Wendy's brown eyes sparkled with mischief, "big guy over here fainted at the fundraiser's fair becaus-"
"Are you gonna make a point of telling everyone you meet about this?" Vince snapped at her and she looked taken back, for a split second, before she flashed him a sharp smile.
"I don't know, I think I could tell at least ten more people before it stops being funny, Pussy Magnet."
Vince opened his mouth to retort, but Jonah interrupted him by laughing and rolling his eyes.
"It's really not that big of a deal, Vin," he said and he sounded so happy, much to Vince's absolute dismay. He would hate to ruin his birthday.
"Right," he cringed, "oh look, finger food-" and he took the chance to get as far away from Wendy as possible. God, he really didn't like her.
Leo threw him a desperate look as he moved away, but Vince simply squeezed his shoulder and bolted away. He circled the bar and went into a separate room of the restaurant, filling his hands up with canapes.
He attempted to blend in with the wall, an incredibly easy task when you were a large football player like him.
It was nearly forty minutes later when Jonah cornered him, nearby the fireplace and sipping on water, while overhearing the drama of one of Lucas and Jonah's old school mates. Rich people had the best gossip, he decided, fully entertained by the soap opera of "and then he married his step daughter!"
"There you are," Jonah smiled, leaning on the wall next to him and Vince scoffed.
"Yeah, because I'm easy to miss," he mumbled, then winced. Jonah's night, play nice, he reminded himself, "sorry. Happy birthday, Jon."
"Thanks," Jonah's tone went back to his normal one, "I can't take this party anymore. I've never smiled so much in my life."
Vince laughed at that, surprised, "I thought you were enjoying yourself."
"I am," Jonah shrugged, "but smiling so much? Being the center of attention for hours? That's a lot."
"Tell me about it," Vince raised his water as if to toast and Jonah looked at him intently.
"I think you hurt Wendy's feelings."
Vince spluttered his water, "I hurt her feelings?!" he choked, wiping the water down his chin, "Jon, c'mon now-"
"She got all excited when she realized you were here."
"I wasn't born yesterday, I can tell she doesn't like me, man," Vince rolled his eyes, "what's the deal with you two anyway?"
It was Jonah's turn to splutter, utterly confused, "our deal...?"
"Yeah, you're all... Sweet and touchy around her."
"I'm friendly," Jonah frowned, "I'm friendly with everyone."
Vince rolled his eyes, "have you met yourself?"
"Are you calling me an asshole on my birthday? Who's the asshole here, Vincent?"
"My name is not even Vincent, it's Vincenzo, just so you know" Vince couldn't help a smile, "and fine, sorry. But c'mon, Jon, don't act like you act like that with everyone."
"She's nice," Jonah sighed, "I don't know, I just... I get her, I guess."
Vince paused, thinking about what his friend said and couldn't help but nod in understanding. So far, with her ability to piss him off at every turn, Jonah and Wendy seemed like very similar people. It made sense they clicked.
"You should maybe... I don't know, clarify to Leo you're not dating her," Vince said, trying not to make it awkward and failing miserably. He had always felt the weird vibe between Leo and Jon, but it wasn't until Jon had spelled it out for him G-A-Y that he had thought maybe it could be more than just a one sided crush from Leo's part.
"Leo?" Jonah blinked a bunch of times, "you realize he's into you not me, right?"
Vince grinned at him, "everyone's into me, man, c'mon now."
"Oh fuck off," Jonah shoved his arm, causing Vince to shove him back, still smiling.
"I'm just saaaying, he might be all heart eyes when he sees me shirtless, but he's not jealous over me with a girl," Vince whispered, leaning in, "get your shit together, Jon."
"Only after you get yours," Jonah pushed him away, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips, "go apologize to my friend."
"...Really?" Vince did not whine, "do I have to? She's just gonna call me Pussy Magnet again and then make fun of me for passing out at the ER."
"Vince," Jonah wrinkled his nose, "grow up."
"Your wish is a command, birthday boy," Vince rolled his eyes, before scanning the room, "I don't see her anywhere."
Jonah shrugged, patted his arm and moved away, as if to tell him he'd not be helping find Wendy. Vince sighed, moving to the next room.
Lucas and Bell were chatting with people Vince didn't recognize and Leo had found Mikey and Ryan. Still, no Wendy.
He moved outside the hallway, to the large hallway, but besides two different couples making out, he didn't find her there either. Maybe she had left.
Vince moved outside the restaurant, to the terrace part of the penthouse, where some people were talking, others smoking... He had about given up, decided she had probably left early, when he saw a blur of green.
In the further corner of the terrace, away from the restaurant view. He stepped closer, wondering if it was truly her, but then she moved slightly and yeah - It was her.
Vince sighed, climbing over the two steps that separated her section of the piers from the rest. She was bracing against the railing that separated her and falling to certain death, 33th floors under. Vince didn't even attempt glancing down, just being this close was already unnerving.
She jumped, startled, then she saw him and Wendy wrinkled her nose in disgust, "Oh, it's you," she scoffed, turning away from him once more and glaring at the spectacular view.
Vince grind his teeth, shoved his hands in his pockets and tried not to be annoying. For Jon, "yeah, it's me. Look, I just wanted to uh..." he hesitated at apologize, because she hadn't even bothered to turn and look at him. Rude much? "to apologize," Vince forced out, "I was rude before... And at the hospital. And at the fair."
"Uhm," was Wendy's eloquent answer and he pouted.
"I didn't mean to offend you with the pussy magnet jacket joke, but clearly I did. It was in bad tast-"
"Oh god," she groaned, hands planted on the railing and letting her head hang in the space between her arms. Vince's pride stung.
"It wasn't even that bad, c'mon-"
"Fuck, can't you just- Shut up?" Wendy groaned and he felt his temper start to get the best of him, but then she let out another moan and his confusion overrode the anger.
"Uh... Are you alright?" he asked, frowning.
"Not really," she groaned and Vince raised his eyebrows. She sounded too coherent to be wasted, even with the powerful fancy alcohol.
"What's wrong?" he asked, taking a tentative step closer and she raised her head, facing him directly for the first time since he had approached her.
She had makeup on, but no amount of blush could hide how horribly pale she was. Her mascara had smeared at the corners, but it didn't look like she had been crying, just teary...
"My head's killing me," she answered, wincing in pain and once again lowering her head, chin to her chest, "you can go, I just need some fresh air."
Yeah, fuck no he was leaving her like that, Vince thought, rolling his eyes and stepping even closer.
"Do you get migraines?" he asked softly and she nodded slowly.
"I didn't feel this one coming, though," she said in a small voice, squeezing the railing a little tighter and pressing her lips in a thin line, "could you go? I... I'd rather you didn't witness this."
"Feeling sick?" he guessed, wincing in sympathy. Both his mom and baby sister had premenstrual migraines, he wasn't new to this. Wendy let out a pitiful groan, which was answer enough.
He sighed and gently pulled her hair back. It was wavy and chin length, so it wasn't pulled back like Bell's had been, just hanging freely around her face, ready to get coated in vomit.
"You don't have to-"
"It's fine," he cut her off, "forget I'm here."
"Kinda hard," Wendy groaned, then a tiny little burp rolled past her lips and she whimpered, snapping her mouth shut. Vince frowned, noticing how hard she was trying to keep it together, he didn't know if it was due to the fancy party or him being there.
"You're just gonna make yourself feel worse," he whispered, bunching up her hair in one hand and using the other one to rub her back. She was wearing a green dress that had a structured top and open back, so his hand rested directly onto her skin, "let it out, honey."
Another little whimper from her and Wendy leaned further over the railing, body shaking with a weak heave. She let out a pained sob, "hurtss..."
And all the music and chattering probably wasn't helping in the least, Vince thought, but what he said was, "you're alright, it'll be over in a minute."
He heard a gurgle go up from her stomach and then she burped up a stream of vomit over the railing, tinted pale yellow by the champagne. He grimaced, both in queasiness and just sympathy.
Black mascara tears ran down her cheeks and he waited until she stopped gagging and fighting for air, before reaching in and wiping them out. Vince gave her a minute of absolute silence, then said, "better?"
"A little," she sniffled, avoiding his eyes, "I think I'm gonna go home, before I make an even bigger fool of myself."
"Do you need a ride?" He heard himself say, before he could think through that offering. She looked just as shocked as he felt.
To her credit, she recovered quickly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and shaking her head, "No, you've done a lot already and I wouldn't want to impo-"
"I'm leaving anyway," Vince insisted and cringed. He sounded desperate, but he felt partially responsible for her, now that he knew what bad shape she was in. Wendy's cheeks turned red and she twisted her hands.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," he agreed, "let's go?"
She walked by his side, accepting the hand he offered her to get down the taller deck part. He watched as she grimaced and gulped down as they passed by the people who were smoking, but Vince also raised his eyebrows as he watched her wipe the corners of her makeup and straighten up as they entered the party, patting her cheeks to get some color back in her face. If he hadn't watched her just puke, he wouldn't have believed it.
"I'm just gonna go grab my purse, say bye to Jon," she said quietly, standing tall and stepping away from him. He waited until she stepped away to find Lucas in the crowd.
Him and Bell were sitting down at a couch, feeding each other dessert and being disgustingly adorable.
"I'm gonna drive Wendy home, can you pick me up so I can get my bike?" Vince asked in one breath, causing Lucas' eyebrows to shot up so far that they disappeared in his hair.
"Wend- What?"
"Lucas," He groaned, trying to vocalize there was no time to get in details now.
"Just take a cab to the dorms, I'll take your motorcycle there tomorrow," Bella answered for Lucas and Vince gave her a grateful smile.
"Thanks, Beautiful," he said, then saw Wendy move to the door, all smiles to Jonah and shaking her head as she probably reassured him she was absolutely fine, "goodnight guys."
"Goodnight!" Bell said, while Lucas still looked confused and whispered to his girlfriend.
"Didn't he hate her five minutes ago?"
He caught up with Wendy at the hallway. Now outside, her brilliant smile vanished and she winced at the bright lights.
"I'm really sorry for ruining your night," she said in a small voice and Vince rolled his eyes, following her into the elevator.
"You didn't," he opened his hand, "car keys, please."
She tried getting them out of her purse, but her hands were shaking and eventually she just shoved the whole purse into his hands and crumpled against the elevator's wall, closing her eyes and resting her hands on her knees.
"Don't do that, you're gonna get even more nauseous," Vince warned her, "inertia and all that sh-"
She jostled with an aborted heave, clamping a tiny hand to her lips. He grimaced.
"Please," she whimpered, eyes squeezed shut, fighting against the nausea and the pain. Vince looked around the fancy elevator, but like any rich people's property, there was no trashcan to be seen and they still had 29 floor to go.
She gagged again and he saw her visibly swallow down, "'m gonna be sick..." Wendy whimpered, sounding awfully close to tears and Vince's heart squeezed.
"Fuck this," he scoffed, stripping down his blazer and cupping it under her mouth, "you're alright, I got you."
She shook her head, "No, please-"
"Shhh," Vince shushed her, tucking the strands of hair away from her mouth and moving behind her, so he could hold her jacket in front of her mouth and still hold her hair, "it's okay, you're alright-"
Her tiny frame shook with one more heave and then more champagne vomit poured out of her mouth, right into the jacket cocoon he had made.
Wendy whimpered, grabbing at the blazer to bring it closer to her mouth and Vince sighed in pure sympathy. He felt impossibly bad for her.
"Almost at the garage," he promised, eyeing the elevator hit the 18. She coughed again, puked another tiny stream and then sniffled pitifully just as they hit the 7th floor, finally seeming to get her stomach under control.
"I'm so so sorry-"
"It's just a jacket, honey, don't worry," Vince shrugged, "and a super cheap one at that, it was hella itchy."
She let out a hysterical giggle at that, "god, Vince, don't make me laugh."
They hit the garage without further mishaps and he discarded the jacket in the first trashcan they found, all while Wendy pouted like a kicked puppy.
He planted his hands on her exposed shoulders, squeezing them, "stop worrying, I can hear it from here - So which one is yours?"
She pointed a pink car and he snorted. Of course.
After she had rattled out her address for him to put in the GPS, she curled up on the passenger seat and went quiet, pain written on the lines of her delicate face. Vince stole a quick glance at her here and there, feeling bad when he pulled up in her building and had to reach in to shake her.
"Hey... Wendy?"
She blinked slowly, realizing they had made it inside the garage once more and sighed in relief at being home.
"Thank you, Vince... Do you wanna come up?"
"Nah, another day," he said before registering what he had said. Her cheeks turned red and she nodded... Then leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Thank you. So much, you have no idea."
Vince's entire face burned and he cursed himself for blushing so easily, "anytime, honey," he shrugged, voice cracking slightly and getting out of the car, towards the exit of the building though.
Five days later, he came to his dorm to find a large black box in front of his door, with a silver bow on top. The card read "Thanks for the help, Pussy Magnet. XOXO - Wendy"
It was an Italian fine blazer.
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mostlydeadallday · 21 hours ago
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so uh. *clears throat* chapter 18 of Lost Kin is going well
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youhearstatic · 21 hours ago
If you are reading The Last Bond Dragon series - or even if you aren't! - I am going to tell you that the next fic in the series (that will start posting this coming friday 8/19/22) is called:
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So if you've got an interest, now's a good time to catch up on the series. It features secret dragon Barry Bluejeans, how his secret comes out, how his family reacts... and now we're on Faerun.
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Night at the Museum AU Idea
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(Thread fic originally posted here)
Feeling lost and alone in the future, Steve finds himself visiting the Smithsonian Captain America exhibition over and over, watching old footage of him and Bucky and standing before the lifelike waxwork of Bucky dressed his handsome blue jacket.
The sculptor captured the jut of Bucky's jaw, the pout of his lips, and the steely blue of his eyes just right. It's more lifelike than the black and white photos Steve has and he can't tear himself away.
The Howling Commandos have waxworks too, flanking a glass display case that contains the original leather jacket and USO unfirom Steve wore to rescue the POWs from Kreischberg, complete with bullet holes.
There are video reels of footage taken on the front lines, and interviews with the Howling Commandos in the years after the war. Steve finds himself sitting in the small auditorium listening on repeat.
But when people start to recognise him and ask for autographs in the exhibit, and when Sam, the guy he runs with every morning, comments that perhaps it's becoming an obsession, Steve forces himself to stop visiting.
His resolve lasts about a week, until Steve can't bear the ache in his chest any longer—and he decides to break in after hours.
But to his surprise, he finds not an empty, deserted museum, but a place that's filled noise and light and—Bucky!
Steve knows it's impossible, but he doesn't care. Bucky and the Howling Commandos are sitting in the exhibit room, drinking and playing cards. They deal him in like old times and Steve spends the evening in a daze of happiness.
He goes back the next night, scared to find that he imagined it all, but it's the same again. He steals Bucky away from the others and they kiss in a quiet stairwell, Steve feels alive again for the first time since the ice.
He knows it's not real, knows this Bucky is a waxwork but he has Bucky's memories, he has his charm, his personality. Steve clings to it, going back night after night.
He invites Sam one night to prove to himself that it's not a hallucination. They all spend a fun evening together until dawn. The waxworks solidify and Sam tells Steve he shouldn't visit anymore. He cautions Steve that it's dangerous, that he might lose himself in the fantasy.
Steve ignores Sam's warnings. It might not be real, but those evenings in the museum are the only time that Steve himself feels alive. He wants to lose himself in the fantasy.
Then, to his dismay, he learns that the Egyptian display is relocating back to NY in a matter of weeks. The tablet will go with it and the Howling Commandos will cease to come alive at night anymore. Steve will lose Bucky all over again.
"It's okay, Steve. I'm not real," wax Bucky tries to console Steve.
"You are to me," Steve protests. "You're the realest thing in this century. It's only when I'm with you that I feel alive."
He plans to try and find a way of keeping the tablet in DC, of keeping wax Bucky alive....when he's called away on a mission to rescue hostages from a SHIELD vessel captured by pirates.
He learns about Project Insight. The Helicarriers. The Winter Soldier. Bucky.
Bucky, the real Bucky, pulls Steve from the river and vanishes. Steve is overcome. He feels desperate and guilt ridden and hopeful and despairing all at once. How could he abandon Bucky to Hydra for all those years? How could he fail him like that?
He's also torn. Steve wants desperately to go and search for Bucky and bring him home, even though he's terrified of what he'll find if he does. The dead eyed stare of the winter soldier still haunts his dreams and Steve fears Bucky might not want to be found.
But leaving now means losing the last chance to spend time with the Bucky in the Smithsonian that Steve has grown to love. The tablet will be gone all too soon and Steve will lose him.
And yet if he doesn't go after the Winter Soldier now, the trail will go cold and Steve risks losing him too. The choice seems impossible.
"There's no question," wax Bucky scoffs at Steve. "Go and find him. Don't waste your time here with me."
"But I'll lose you."
"Steve, I'm not real," wax Bucky tells him bluntly. "I'm wax, brought to life by a magical tablet and solidified by your belief and your memories of Bucky. I'm not real. He is and he needs you."
"He might not want me to find him," Steve protests. "Especially after I failed him."
"You didn't fail him and he does want to be found. He'll let you find him when he's ready. Don't give up. Promise me? Don't give up on him. He still loves you, more than you could know."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I love you."
"I love you too."
"No." Wax Bucky shakes his head and gives Steve a sad smile. "You love him. Now go and find him, and bring him home."
Steve goes.
It takes months but eventually Bucky lets Steve catch up to him in a rundown apartment in Bucharest. He lets Steve take him home.
They move back to Brooklyn and Steve upholds his promise to wax Bucky. He doesn't give up, no matter how impossible Bucky's recovery seems at the outset.
Steve sticks by him and they work through it all together. (Steve soon realises he has a lot of recovery to work through himself).
It's years until things return to any semblance of normal, but when it does, Steve takes Bucky to the museum of natural history. They break in after hours and marvel at the dinosaurs and waxworks that have come to life.
Steve tells Bucky about the statue of him in the smithsonian, how he helped Steve remember himself when he felt lost and alone in the future.
Bucky wants to see him, so the next time they're in DC to visit Sam they stop by and say hello to the unblinking, unmoving waxwork figure. Bucky stares at the display for a long time. He looks concerned.
"There's no statue of you. Why not?" Bucky asks.
"Y'know, I'm not sure."
It's Bucky's idea to commission one.
And it's thanks to Bucky that the next time the Egyptian exhibit tours the Smithsonian and the statues come back to life, that wax Bucky finds himself awakening next to his very own version of wax Steve, with a note tucked into his jacket pocket that simply reads, 'Thank you.'
The End.
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TDDK Angel/Demon Smut fic
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Mind the tags, because this gets intense! Link in source, preview below the cut!
Tags: Captivity, Kidnapping, Genderfuck, Angel/Demon Relationship, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Mind Break, Gags, Face-Fucking, Corruption, Yandere Todoroki Shouto, Possibly Sacrilegious, Bottom Midoriya Izuku, Top Todoroki Shouto, Double Penetration, demons have two dicks, Angels have no genitals but do have holes, You do the math
“My dick!” he gasped, too distraught to even be embarrassed. “It’s gone! Gone! ”
The angel, taller by half than Izuku, short-shorn dark hair and severe eyebrows, blinked at him for a moment in confusion before comprehending what he was wailing about.
“Oh, your reproductive parts. Angels don’t have those. Dirty, nasty things,” it tutted. “No, angels are above carnal delights. You won’t miss it.”
Izuku was fairly certain he would.
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yaoyuandaydream · a day ago
at the end of the road trip
under the morning sun
you are burning through
all my half-whispered what ifs
i can't keep you
i can't even keep this moment
something my trembling hands can never grasp
let alone a flimsy photograph
by the time september arrives
you will be on a train east
and i'll have finished this poem
so your name can keep echoing
in this valley, suspended
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julek · a day ago
36: stopping a kiss when it gets too heated for geraskier perhaps 💕
#36. stopping a kiss when it gets too heated
It’s been a lazy evening.
With the cool breeze of early autumn blowing fallen leaves outside, their routine has mostly consisted of a steady cycle of standing in front of the open fridge, willing something sweet and cake-shaped into existence, sitting on the couch then sliding onto the carpet then sitting on the couch again, watching old movies on the TV, ice cream tub in hand, and other shapes of doing-nothing-ness.
And kissing.
Lots of kissing.
It’s all so new between them, it still feels very delicate. Geralt can feel it in the way Jaskier’s hand frames his face, in the way his lips explore but don’t intrude. It’s sweet and exciting and it tugs at his heart in a way nothing has in a very long time, and every waking hour of every day he’s incensed with the knowledge that he can have this, that Jaskier is not walking away, that this is theirs to have. 
So in between all the couch-sitting, couch-sliding-off, there are many kisses. Stolen, some, when the other isn’t looking — like when Jaskier laughs at the cheesy dialogue of whatever rom-com is running in the background, and Geralt’s heart swells with a love that feels infinite, and he just has to kiss the grin off his face. Sweet, like when Geralt comes back from the kitchen with more popcorn and Jaskier thanks him with a gentle kiss to the forehead, almost like an afterthought. That’s what excites him — the fact that words, glances, almost everything can be reduced to a single action, a single kiss.
Like now, the movie completely and utterly forgotten as they kiss and kiss and kiss. Geralt doesn’t know how it started, or who did; all he knows is that Jaskier tastes like salt and butter and that he smells a little bit like the candle they burned a while ago, and that his hair is soft under Geralt’s hands and that he sighs into Geralt’s mouth from time to time, and it feels like heaven. 
Jaskier’s hands begin to wonder, too. They reach for Geralt’s face, then his jaw, then lower, lower, lower, tickling his sides. Geralt gasps, unbidden, as Jaskier’s fingers begin slowly opening the buttons of his shirt, teasing, his touch making Geralt’s skin erupt in gooseflesh. 
There’s a soft moan — Geralt couldn’t say who’s mouth it belongs to, lost in the feeling as he is — as Jaskier rocks forward, abandoning his seat on the couch to plant himself more firmly onto Geralt’s lap. The kiss grows more heated, their tongues meeting again and again, and suddenly, it becomes too much. 
Geralt gently taps Jaskier’s thigh as he pulls back a bit, and is relieved to see Jaskier’s mouth curl into a small smile. 
“Too much?” He asks Geralt, and there’s no condescendence in his tone, nothing but plain curiosity. 
“Yeah,” Geralt nods, letting out a small laugh. He can feel his face burn a bit, his cheeks warm to the touch. “Sorry.”
Jaskier sits back on his haunches and playfully swats Geralt’s arm. “No saying sorry. I’m glad you let me know.”
Geralt nods again, looking down at his hands. The ever-present feeling that he’s ruining things by not being enough is trying to make itself heard in his mind, but he closes his eyes and tries to focus on the nice things — the feeling of Jaskier’s skin against his, their hands locked together, the pleasant butterfly buzz in his stomach, the loving shade of blue in Jaskier’s eyes that tells him everything he needs to know. 
“I know,” he says out loud, and Jaskier smiles at him, squeezing his hand. “Could you come here anyway?”
Jaskier goes, of course, never in his life turning down cuddles, and it settles something in Geralt’s skin, the way they fit together so perfectly: the way Jaskier’s hair tickles his chin and how his arms can wrap around him like a blanket, warm and inviting. 
On the screen, Sally’s blue eyes are shining with tears. 
“I love you,” Jaskier says against his arm. “I can’t believe you distracted me during Harry’s big speech, though.”
Geralt nudges him. “He tells her he loves her even though she gets cold when it’s seventy degrees out,” he tells him. “And that he wants to spend the rest of their lives together.”
“Hmm,” Jaskier says thoughtfully. “Now that would be something, huh?”
His face is shining as the credits roll.
Geralt loves him to bits. 
“It would.”
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dontdropthedoritos · 2 days ago
Do you think if I dove deep enough that I’d reach the bottom?
Do you think I could stay there & sink
Would the rapids take me for a swim
Let the sun burn my skin
Let the rocks cut my shin’s
Let the weeds pull me down
Let me drown
Let me drown
Let the water fill my lungs & be the only thing that has ever made me feel whole
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bellysoupset · a day ago
"We can always do it later... Or in the morning... Or after the game...," he nibbled at her ear, while Bell giggled.
This part made me blush 🙈🙈
👉🏼👈🏼 if you're still taking requests for these cuties, would you write something where all the worrying and stress messes up Lukas' digestion so when Bell and him have lunch he gets indigestion and cries cause he was very scared? (I know he already told her this, that moment really raised my standards for men 😭, but like, maybe a recovery or aftermath scene?) I hope you have a nice day, this was just an idea you don't have to write this if you don't feel inspired ofc 🙈 -🍁
Annooon! First off, thank you so much for all these compliments, I didn't even wanna answer this ask because I kept staring at it. I don't think Luke would cry over that bout of sickness, but I did my best to still give you some tender fluffiness!
It was the day after the big game, the one Lucas had nearly missed to take care of Bell, and they were curled up in couch of his-their apartment. He had ordered in, a bland soup for her, chinese food for him.
They had eaten quietly, Lucas still all concerned since it was her first real meal since she had gotten sick, "really, Luke, I'm fine." Bell had scoffed, moving closer to him on the couch, "relax."
"I'll relax when that stays down," he grumbled, but pulled her closer and she rolled her eyes and pressed a kiss on his mouth. Lucas was still all stiff, as if she was a porcelain doll who'd break if he was too rough and Bell sighed in his mouth, moving to sit across his lap.
She pushed his hair back, "I'm fine," she whispered, kissing him harder. He sneaked a hand under her (his) oversized shirt and stroked her back, nodding into the kiss.
"I know, I know-" His whole body jostled with a hiccup and Bell pulled back, giggling. Lucas grimaced, cupped a hand over his mouth and muffled a tiny burp, before dropping it with a tired expression, "I know you're fine, you just... You scared the crap out of me."
"Shhh..." She leaned in, planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, up to his nose bridge, his temple, "I'm okay n-" she was interrupted as another burp got past his lips, now accompanied by a loud whine coming from his stomach. Bell raised her eyebrows, "are you okay?"
Lucas grimaced and nodded, "indigestion."
"Lucas..." she sighed, combing his hair. Bella knew damn well why he was having indigestion and it had very little to do with the food, a lot more with how reactive his stomach was to his emotional state, "I'm sorry, honey."
"Not your fault," he groaned, keeping her planted on his lap and burying his face on her chest, "It's-" his stomach gurgled and he muffled a belch on her shirt. Bell grimaced in disgust, but didn't pull back, only kept combing his hair back, nails scratching his scalp, "...I'll feel better in a minute."
"Take your time," she kissed the top of his head and his stomach answered her with a little whine, "do you want me to rub your stomach?"
Normally he'd be more than eager for it, Lucas was touch starved as hell and he never denied any type of physical comfort, but today he shook his head, face still hidden in chest.
"No, just stay here."
Bella smiled, snuggled even closer to him, "not going anywhere, Luke."
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natashatrace · 2 days ago
A drabble request for you <3 laughter + sereshace
when natasha gets a little tipsy, it's easier to make her laugh.
she's got a hell of a tolerance. bradley and jake have discovered that through several attempts at drinking contests, all of them resulting in terrible hangovers the next morning and the eventually broken promises that there will be no such competitions the next time they go out.
but when she does skip past pleasantly buzzed to a little bit drunk, the things that typically make her roll her eyes in amusement - jake's terrible ego, bradley's awful dad jokes - have her laughing instead. and every time it happens, jake catches bradley's eye and they share a little grin.
when she's falling asleep that night, curled up on bradley's lap with her feet resting on jake's thighs, bradley whispers, "she's somethin', huh?"
and jake just hums in agreement. "i think we did alright, yeah."
natasha's lips twitch. jake shoots bradley a wink.
"too bad we'd never admit that to her out loud."
she doesn't open her eyes, but her smile widens. she snorts out a soft laugh, and bradley presses a kiss to her forehead. "g'night, giggles."
"night, boys."
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laura-ann-review · 3 days ago
Bosch & Rockit
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First, Thank you Gold Coast Film Festival for the free ticket to this Q & A screening. Appreciate it.
Second, I had heard good things from Australian actors about this movie and how it’s quite heartfelt.
I’ll be honest, my knowledge on Bosch and Rockit is quite limited and if I hadn’t won the ticket, I wouldn’t have seen it. Not because it’s an Australian film but because of the lack of promo about it, the promo may have swayed my decision but since indie films have limited sessions, I knew my local event cinemas wouldn’t have had any screenings.
Bosch and Rockit stars Luke Hemsworth, Isabella Lucas, and Rasmus King. With Hemsworth and King as the title characters; Bosch and Rockit, a father and son.
Bosch and Rockit is an Australian independent film set on the backdrop of the Gold Coast and Byron Bay, following the journey of a father and son; Bosch and Rockit. This story is told through the eyes of the young teen; Rockit, we are guided though his innocence, the lies his told by his dad and the struggles his stuck in, that is until it also comes tumbling down by the blues in boy; dirty cops.
Even though there isn’t a set year/date, the audience gets the assumption that it’s set somewhere in the 1970’s with key songs, key costumes, and key hair styles from that decade.
For me, this story is a bit slow for my liking, but I did still manage to enjoy it.
Though the first half of the movie does feel like it’s cluttered with what feels like three different stories.
The innocence of a young boy.
A man with his drug trade; pot.
Dirty cops.
It does feel at times that drugs and dirty cops could’ve been erased from this but in saying that Bosch and Rockit wouldn’t have had a reason to go on a “holiday.”
Bosch and Rockit is a quite raw, humorous, and eye-opening film, with understanding of how the way our parents raised us can affect us as children.
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