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bigdorks · 10 months

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closer | hobie brown

A/N: Idk what this is tbh. It's like a mix between a series of hcs and a lil bit of smut. There's like 3 lines of dialogue in the whole fic opps. Warning: smut towards the end so 18+, afab reader, this is kinda cheesy, pls read the tags for more info WC: 1k+

At first, you didn't know what to make of Hobie Brown. He was a tall, formidable presence, so steadfast in his beliefs in a way that wasn't really shared among many of his peers.

Cliche as it is, you'd never met anyone quite like him, despite the many variants of Spidermen that existed across the multiverse that you had come across.

Like the rest, he fought valiantly against the evil within his own Earth, battling fascists and collapsing oppressive corridors of power with his 'Spiderband.' But he did it in his own unique way, true to his punk lifestyle. You remember how hard you'd laughed when he told you about the time he had once rushed a stage at a fashion show in protest.

He never faltered in abiding by what he felt was right. You saw the way he supported those who desperately needed it, even when it diverged from the majority. That Hobie had stood by Miles even when the entire multiverse was against him.

And with that, you couldn't help but to admire Hobie, wanted to be more like him. Be a little more unapologetic and devoted in ways you had not learned of yet.

When Miles got his powers, you resigned yourself to a mere supportive role in the background. But you had always wanted to do so much more. To be more helpful than a quick phone call to the authorities as the computer nerd in the chair. A part of you wanted to prove to yourself that you didn't need superpowers to be a driving, albeit small, force of change. So, you set out to do just that.

Beyond supporting Miles's operations as Spiderman, you found grassroots organizations to involve yourself with. You volunteered at schools as a mentor, supported mutual aid funds in any way you could, and advocated against the local forces that threatened to destroy all of the progress Miles had made as Spiderman.

And maybe you inspired Hobie, too, in your own smaller efforts. Perhaps it was not as great or impactful as the collective heroic actions of the Spider-people, but it was enough to create a small ripple of change within your own community.

There was one time when Hobie had smiled, so proud and excited when you'd told him how you'd teamed up with Miles to raise enough funds to save the local struggling performing arts center.

You could still recall how giddy you felt when his arms pulled you to his chest and held you there, maybe for a beat too long, while his pierced mouth rained you in praise.

As you grew closer to him, talking to him about anything and everything became so easy. Relaxed banter flowed in your conversations with the complement of his dry humor to your sarcastic remarks. You'd become so consumed in each other during your talks that hours would pass by without notice.

Among the lingering touches and steady chatter, the frequent looks of longing that you and Hobie gave to each other were enough to clue the others in on the tangible tension between you. They were gleeful in their sly matchmaking attempts, especially Pavitr, who didn't even try to hide his play at Cupid.

Nonetheless, it wasn't long before you and Hobie fell into a relationship. A relationship that existed beyond labels and social titles. You both just went together. And it was as simple as that. As natural as breathing.

That is not to say it wasn't hard sometimes.

Problems arose from the cosmic distance between you two. Conflicts born out of Hobie's obligations as Spiderman and yours to Miles. And yet it wasn't anything you both couldn't work out. It took a lot of self-humbling and vulnerable communication you hadn't thought yourself capable of, but it was all worth it in the end.

So even though you and Hobie lived on two entirely different Earths, in different planes of reality, you still managed to find a way to be together.

You'd go to his universe and support him when he played packed shows in some underground pub, decked out in a patch-filled leather jacket and spikey accessories you had made with him. You’d drank with his mates and proudly screamed the lyrics of every song until your throat felt raw.

Some days, he'd stop by your apartment, and you'd introduce him to everything that had yet to be made in his own universe, particularly the music.

You watched as he combed through your vinyl collection and picked a new album to listen to, how his wicks moved around when he bobbed his head along to the melodic shouts of Mommy Long Legs, the versatile flows of Bad Brains or even the soothing tones of Sweetback.

And there were days like this when conversations lulled, and desire took over. Days when the history between the two of you felt as ancient as the cosmos, vast and full of eons of memory. Like you'd known Hobie longer than you really had. Every touch was well-practiced and well-placed, brewing ecstasy wherever they landed, as though you both had done this same dance a million times before.

Clothes litter the small space of your living room floor. He lays with you astride his hips and his back to the old cushions of your secondhand couch, which creaks noisily underneath your heavy movements. Kisses are stolen in between pants. Your breaths are shared in the small space that exists before your bodies.

Hobie's hands slide up and down the curves of your body, brushing your thin braids from your face, groping at your chest, guiding your hips to keep a steady pace with him. Your combined moans and the wet sounds from your repeated joining create a heady atmosphere that clouds the expanse of your mind.

You sit up and throw your head back when the pleasure becomes too much. Your braids follow the harsh motion like a whip, but you don't register any pain when they slap against your back, too focused on feeding your ravenous need for release.

Your hands press against his abdomen for leverage, your thighs aching when you bounce on him even faster. As his hard cock continues to bully your insides, your walls start to clench tighter around him, a sign that you're close to crossing the line that separates you from complete delirium.

"You feel so good." His voice strangled in his throat, his hips humping upwards toward yours. "Look at how well you're takin' all of me, love. You're soakin' it."

You look down to see the heat in his gaze as he watches the two of you join again and again. The sticky mess of your fluids wet his dick, spreading further and further across his lower half with each smack of your thighs. It makes you grind down harder, your blood pulse even faster, and your breathing grow heavier as your body reaches a plateau.

But what really pushes you over the edge is when his thumb finds your engorged clit, rubbing a series of smooth circles against the tacky skin. It's exactly enough stimulation to help you fall right into the throes of euphoria.

"S-shit, Hobie!"

Your limbs tense and shake as you groan, a mixture of his name and incoherent praises and begs falling from tender lips. You barely notice Hobie finding his release beneath you, his grunts joining your symphony of noises as his hips stutter to a stop, a warmth blossoming from where he's hilted inside of you.

You take a moment to catch your breath and steady the harsh palpitations of your heart. When Hobie gently pulls out of you, you can feel the slow drip of his cum further wet the damp skin of your thighs and his pelvis.

Like always, he's a master of aftercare, cleaning you both up and then helping you dress in fresh clothes. He carries you to your bed despite you insisting you can walk.

And when he lies down beside you and pulls you to lay on his bare chest, you're content as you think of how deeply he's become a part of your life, a part of you.

"I really love you, y'know." You whisper to him, slowly drifting off to sleep.

He presses smiling lips to your forehead in a kiss and somehow pulls you even closer. "I really love you, too."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut #reader is slightly black coded so #hobie brown x black!reader #& theyre Miles's pal in the chair #kinda irrelavant but listened to corinne bailey rae while writing this hence the title #and hobie would def love her too idc idc idc #emlikes2write

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starrypen · 5 months

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hello! i hope you're having a nice day 💕

also, i just fell in love w the way you write, and was wondering if i can request for an specific scenario!! you and jake are friends and have feelings for each other but no one confesses until you end up hooking up at a party 🤨 i thought abt this the whole day but i just know you're gonna write it better! please, and thank you 💗

⋇⊶⊰ BOUND TO HAPPEN ⊱⊷⋇

pairing: crush!jake x fem!reader

genre: smut

summary: a dull college party brings you and your crush closer than ever before. if you cum, you agree to be his girlfriend.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, pet names, oral (receiving), squirt, dom!jake, 2.3k words

a/n: thank u so much for your compliments and for your request <3 i don’t really go to parties so i’m not sure it’s tooooo realistic/accurate, im sorry!!

“i think i just saw jake and his friends walk up your driveway,” you frantically patted at your friends’ arms, waiting, rather impatiently, for one of them to admit that they invited him without telling you.

“it’s cool, y/n, i invited jay and you know that they can’t be separated,” raya’s hand found yours as she spoke. she gave it a tight squeeze before dropping it as three boys walked straight into her kitchen.

“hey, where’s the party at?” one of jay’s friends asked, placing a crate of beer onto the counter. “where is everyone?”

“i said 10,” raya replied, “but who actually arrives at 10?”

“true,” jay responded, continuing the conversation by asking about who he was expecting to see here.

you couldn’t make out any names, all your focus was on the boy to his right. jake. he gave you a friendly smile and a slight wave, one that beckoned you over to him. you grabbed a bottle of beer from the kitchen counter on your way over to him and extended it towards him. he took it with a “thank you,” before grabbing his keys from his jacket pocket and opening the cap. “how have you been? i haven’t seen you in so long,” he joked, knowing you’d shared a lecture together that morning.

“ugh so stressed, there’s this one guy in my class, he’s so annoying!” you snarked back, “jake, i think his name is.”

“nah, i heard he’s super smart and hot, a distraction if anything,” he took a swing of his beer. you mimicked, taking a sip of your drink too. “fuck, what is this shit, tastes rancid!” he pulls it away from his face to read the label, “0%, who brought alcohol free beer to a party?” his eyes landed on the friend of jay’s that had come in shouting, he clicked his tongue and muttered something under his breath. “i genuinely have no idea who that guy is, and i don’t think jay does either,” he laughed, whispering closely into your ear. your hand gripped his arm naturally as he spoke, you were barely able to concentrate on what he said, knowing he was so close to you right now.

“you seriously don’t know him?” you snapped your head around to get another look at the guy, “shouldn’t we like, tell him to leave?”

“nah, no point, looks like he’s already found someone to defend him,” he points over towards the guy again, whose tongue is down raya’s throat.

it’s midnight. the downstairs of raya’s house is full of people, mostly students from your college but some you don’t even recognise. over the last two hours, you realised that the guy who came in with jay and jake was actually the dj that raya had been sleeping with for the past month. he was loud and obnoxiously extroverted, and worst of all, pretty bad at djing.

a hand on the small of your back took you away from the conversation you were having with some people you knew from campus. “we’re playing truth or dare,” jay explained, guiding you to the kitchen, where, thankfully, the music was quieter.

“nah, not really for me,” you replied, turning back on yourself, when you noticed jake. “oh, are you playing?” you asked him, ready to change your mind.

“are you?” he asked back.

“no, she’s being boring!” jay answered for you, leaving you with nothing more to add than an awkward smile.

instead of barging back in on the conversation you were just having with your other friends, you headed to the bathroom upstairs. jake followed quietly. as you went to shut the door, jake slipped into the bathroom with you, only realising once he was actually in the room with you that you probably came in here to use the toilet.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t think this was the uh-” he stuttered his way through the sentence, trying to shut and cover his eyes for no reason.

“no it’s okay i didn’t come in here to,” you coughed in place of the word, “i’m just here to get away from that lot,” you pointed to the floor.

“honestly,” his hand scratched at the back of his head, “i’m kinda bored of this party.”

“me too,” you responded, a little too excitedly as if this was a groundbreaking opinion that you had in common. “shall we go to raya’s room and talk for a bit? or just sit on our phones without being pestered to play some stupid drinking game?”

“yeah, i actually need to tell you something anyway,” he agreed with a shy smile, shuffling into the smallest space possible to let you unlock the door and lead the way, “she won’t mind, right?”

“no, she’s cool with whatever,” you shrug, twisting the door handle and walking into the disaster she calls a room. “don’t mind the mess, 3 girls had to get changed in here earlier!” you explain, as if he’d understand. you propped yourself against her headboard and threw all of the random clothes into the floor. you scurried your feet under the blanket folded at the end of her bed. he joined you after taking off his jacket, resting his head on her pillow, his hands clasped together on his torso. “what did you need to tell me?” you rolled onto your side, your hand sandwiched between your cheek and a pillow.

“oh,” he rolled over to face you, “that guy, leo, he’s the dj.”

your heart sank as he told you, you were kind of hoping for more, and it was definitely clear on your face.

“and also that you look pretty tonight,” he smiled, his hand at your hip, “you always look pretty in fact, i think about how pretty you are all the time.”

you hide your face by burying it into the pillow, “i thought those beers were 0%?”

“i’m being serious y/n,” he clarifies.

you look back at him again. his eyes are filled with sincerity, but it’s hard for you to remain focused on them when your eyes keep falling to his lips. you reassured yourself that it was okay, his eyes were doing the same.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, taking his hand from your hip in favour of tucking a strand of your straightened hair behind your ear.

as he leaned closer, you felt his thumb graze over your lobe a few times. “please,” you whispered.

it seemed to take forever for your lips to finally come together, but when they did, it was everything you’d imagined it to be. he took your bottom lip between his own, enclosing his lips around it more harshly with each kiss. it wasn’t long before your tongues vied to enter the other’s mouth. in the meantime, jake had managed to steady himself on his elbow, soon on top of you, between your legs. you were experienced enough to know exactly where this was going, but that wasn’t what you wanted from this, so you pulled away for a moment.

“jake,” you started, snapping him out of the trance you’d put him in, “i really like you, you know that right?” your hands squeezed as his upper arms.

he melted under your touch. “i do now,” he laughed, “and i really like you too, don’t worry.”

“so, i don’t want this to just be,” you motioned to either side of you both, “just whatever this is.”

“it’s not,” he chuckled before leaning in to give you a small gentle kiss on your lips. another shortly followed, and then a longer one at the corner of your mouth. you played with his hair between your fingers. “baby, you’re already mine,” he commented, kissing your collarbone while tugging at the chest area of your shirt that showed a lot of cleavage. you managed to drop the straps of the top, shaking them off of your arms as jake eagerly tugged at your shirt some more, leaving it be at the middle of your tummy. his kisses trailed over your chest, down to the button on your jeans. “you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he kneels between your legs as he tussles with the denim waistband of his own jeans while you do the same. you undo yours before him and wait for him to take them off for you, which he does along with your panties before even doing his own.

it’s almost as if he forgets to take off his jeans, as he shuffles down the bed with his thumb slowly circling your clit. he replaces his thumb with his plump lips, pressing a small, light kiss against it while your legs try to close in on him. he pulls away, his middle finger lapping your pussy before he gently pushes it in. “if i make you cum tonight, will you be my girlfriend?” his smile is cheeky, but you know jake well enough to know that it’s genuine.

your lips struggle to stay shut as you nod, trying your hardest not to moan under his touch already.

his head ducks again, “good,” he smiles against your clit. his tongue fights the hood of your clit, easily finding the most sensitive part of your body in a matter of seconds. your hand pushes his head further onto you as his tongue works your clit and his fingers curl inside you. you’re not sure when he added another finger, but you’re enjoying it too much to care.

“fuck, jake,” your legs close a little more around his head as you feel a trickle, or maybe a stream, of water run out of you.

“did you just squirt for me, baby?” he looks up at you while biting his lower lip.

“i think,” you laugh awkwardly, “i’ve never done that before!”

“fuck that’s so hot,” his fingers curl inside you one last time before he pulls them out. they’re dripping wet, as you expected. “suck on them princess, make them clean,” he commands. you take the two fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and trying to take more of their length as you would his cock. while you’re sucking on his fingers, jake manages to unbutton his pants to reveal his dick. he pumps it in his hands a few times while removing his jeans before tapping it against your clit.

“do you,” you pause as he hits it against your clit one more time, causing you to shake in pleasure, “do you have a condom?”

he scrambles off the bed, reaching inside his jacket pocket which he threw to the ground and pulling out a small silver tin filled with condoms. he singled one out and opened it up, rolling it onto his dick with the most adorable concentration face. he climbs back into the bed, his hands coming to your sides to flip you over and help you onto all fours in front of him. you back up, your ass against his hard dick, which is enough for jake to know you want it just as much as he does.

with his hand at the base of his cock, he pushes it into you gently, letting you take it all and get used to his girth.

“should i move?” he asks, almost as if he feels guilty for his size.

you hum, it’s the only thing you can do while he’s inside of you, you realise.

he pulls his dick out and pushes it back in again, soon building up to a pace that suits you both. his hand has found your hair, he’s bunched it together and pulled it all back, using it to keep his balance as he fucks you. you help him keep his rhythm, throwing your ass back against him until he stops abruptly.

“turn over, baby, i miss that beautiful face of yours,” he taps your ass as he pulls out of you. a little short of breath, he relaxes back against his heels while you turn over. your hand finds your clit, rubbing it for him to watch. “is that how you like it?” he asks, mentally taking notes. he takes your hand away and places it near to your face, as if he’s asking you to suck on your fingers. he gets to his knees once again and lines himself up with your pussy. his dick misses a few times, which makes him a little mad at himself. you think it’s cute. he finally gets it in with a groan, “shit, you feel so good,” he compliments, leaning on his hand above your head. his lips find your forehead. he places a gentle kiss against it while whispering, “you look so good under me,” before allowing himself to sit upright again. his pace matches the pace he set before, but this time he added rubbing your clit into the equation, just as you showed him only moments ago.

“jake,” your hand rested on his chest while the other gripped at the sheet beneath you, “i’m cumming,” you moaned and winced, your pussy throbbing around him. you felt so vulnerable in that moment, but you knew you were safe with jake.

“you’re such a good girl,” his came close to your face again, taking your lips between his own and then pulling away as the pulsating became less intense around his dick. he began to fuck you again, but a lot sloppier and with more groans than before. he soon pulled out, pulling off the condom and wobbling and kneeling to the side of you in urgency before spraying your tits with his cum. you took your finger to your chest, scraping up what you could before dripping it into your mouth and sucking the rest off your fingers. jake pulled up his boxers and ran to the bathroom you were in earlier that night to grab a towel, the bathroom bin going with a loud clang as he disposed of the condom. he came back and patted your chest with the towel, your face too, all while laughing to himself.

“what’s funny?” you asked, searching for your own underwear with your hand.

“nothing,” he carried on, chuckling away, “you’re just really cute.” you smiled to yourself, sorting out your rolled up shirt with your other hand to cover your chest again. jake tried to help, but unfortunately the only time he can keep his lips off of yours is to kiss your neck, or mumble against it. “even cuter now that you're my girlfriend.”

“guys, why are you in my-” raya covers her eyes as soon as she notices jake is only in his boxers, “not my best sheets, y/n,” she comments with a cry, before shutting the door, leaving the pair of you to laugh about almost getting caught.

#jake #enhypen #enhypen smut #jake smut #sim jaeyun #enhypen imagines #jake imagines #jake sim

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lains-reality · 9 months

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befriending fear.

from the deleted website 'thewishfulfilled'.

Fear is an invitation to remember who you truly are.

Acknowledging fear doesn’t make you any less worthy of or further away from what you truly desire. In fact, because you possess such fear, you are entitled to receive them. True fearlessness is not the reduction of fear, but befriending fear.

Similarly, acknowledging your shadows does not dim the Light that you are. In previous discourse, I’ve shared that you are the Light in which everything appears, shining with the same brightness, behind and in the midst of all experience – good, bad or indifferent. The shadows you battle against are simply the seeming absence of you. Becoming entangled in the world of shadows is simply the forgetting of your Self; and Light casts shadows that come and go only to remember itself.

The truth is that Light knows no opposition or enemy. Shadows have no separate existence from Light. Your fears are made of you. So when you neglect and numb fear, you neglect your true nature too.

So when are you equating the remembrance of you true nature to neglecting the shadows that you cast?

When are you equating true freedom to fear of your human experience?

When are you equating love to apathy? Creation to control?

When are you placing conditions on the unconditional?

Being in state of the wish fulfilled is not numbing one polarity of and pretending to be beyond your human experience. Learning about who you truly are is not about pretending to be transcendent or fearless, or beyond the shadows.

You don’t need to become disengaged with life in order to manifest your desires. ‘Buying the pearl’ is not about detaching from your human experience, devoid of passion, feeling and emotion, but rather answering your calling to full observation and participation of it, no matter what is happening.

Embodying your true Self concerns more than just manifesting your desires. Conscious creation is a part of conscious living - a way of being no matter what circumstances may arise. A way of seeing through the illusory division in yourself and everything around you. Remembering your interconnected nature with your world and the sacred relationships that sustain life is what allows vulnerable involvement in your fleeting experience. Unconditionally allowing the presence of fear promises true fearlessness.

So befriend fear. Become vulnerable and intimate with this aspect of yourself once again, for it has no authority over you and can never truly overwhelm you. Get up close and personal with fear and rediscover your true nature – that which is fearless.

When you feel fear, drop the label ‘fear’, even for just a moment.

Unconditionally feel the sensations, the energy in your body. Observe and describe the sensations. Does it tickle? Is it warm?

Where is the feeling physically located? In your stomach? In your throat? In your chest?

As you observe these sensations in your body, be kind to them, become intimate with them. Ask yourself: What is it like to feel this way?

Continue to observe and allow all of your stories, thoughts and emotions, resistance and judgements. Watch them appear and disappear, appear and disappear.

Embody Light, and become once again non-resistant to all of the shadows you cast.

When you stop numbing any feeling, negative or positive, you remember that your true Self is a friend to everything.

When you create space in your heart for fear to freely arise and fall in you, you will rediscover that you have no enemies.

this is much more than a manifestation post, read it not for desires but for Self.

#lainsreality #manifestation #fear

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rudysrings · 1 year

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Neteyam x fem!Omaticaya!reader

Blurb: Neteyam is aged up, maybe 20-22, reader the same age. Neteyam and the reader have always been close, with an unspoken relationship and expectation that they will be mates when the time comes. When it does, however, things don't quite go as planned.

Warnings: Angst lol

At first, you paid no mind. It’s not that it didn’t matter to you, but you were secure in yourself and who you knew you were to Neteyam to be bothered by the rushed questions, the eager “Has he asked you yet?”s and the “How will he do it?”s. You only smiled coyly and shrugged, and if they pushed, you merely said you had work to do. As your people’s youngest, most prominent healer (aside from Tsahik Mo’at) during wartime, there truly always were wounds to be tended to and medicinal herbs to be prepared.

You considered what you and the soon to be Olo’eyktan of the Omaticaya had to be sacred. It was unspoken, heavy, tangible, but also easy, grounding and reliable, which is what made it all the more significant for the two of you. Speaking it into existence, especially to those outside the bubble the pair of you had fortified over your entire lives, almost felt to cheapen the entire thing. You knew. He knew. There was not a single doubt. Until there was.

Soon, the questions took a crueler turn; in fact, they didn’t even stay direct questions, but became rumored whispers. “If he has not asked her yet, then he must seek someone else. Who has he chosen?” And honest to Eywa, the first few times this got around to you, you only chuckled. People would talk. It was only natural. They were anxious to see what their future clan leader would do, and you knew it had nothing to do with you, or what lay in the future for you and Neteyam. You had no doubt he would ask soon, after all, his own mother had instructed him to make his bow from the wood of the fallen hometree and choose a woman many eclipses ago. Until you did.

It didn’t happen overnight. But you didn’t notice until one night. When the oldest Sully boy came back from a hunt, he only ever came to your healing tent or to Tsahik Mo’ats. This night, however, for the first time in you couldn’t remember how long, he entered the tent of a healer you could not even recall the name of. And all of a sudden, you realized you hadn’t put those beads in his hair, and they didn’t look like the ones the Neytiri would make either. You couldn’t remember the last time he had asked you to ride your ikrans to the one mountain the two of you frequented. Come to think of it, he hadn’t spoken to you since he had made his bow.

He wasn’t yours.

“What is it, my girl?” It wasn’t until Neytiri put a hand on your shoulder that you realized hot tears had made tracks across your humiliated face. As much as she represented a maternal figure to you and many other in your tribe, you couldn’t bear to speak your realization to the mother of your problem. Eyes glazed, you try to will them away and muttered some excuse of a tear inducing herb irritating your eyes and turned, making your way back into your tent.

Anger.

The next few days, your sorrow quickly turned into anger. How could things change for him just like that? And even if they did? Not a single word to you? That was the first time you regretted never putting a label on things between the two of you, even if it reduced the intimacy of what you had into a teenage relationship, at least he would have the responsibility of owing you an explanation before basically writing you out of his life. Even without all that, you couldn’t fathom the thought that he would simply not consider you worthy of a measly explanation. Clearly you did not know him as the person he actually was.

And that’s what broke your heart further. The final wound—that the Neteyam you knew and was oh so, inexplicably dear to you…wasn’t true, didn’t exist, must have been a fantasy.

Your friends worried. You were withdrawn, quietly and consistently turning over the events of your lives and figuring out when you had wrongly created this dream of the two of you making a life together, and when he decided to stop entertaining it. You always came up with nothing. For the life of you, you could not taint the memories you had made. Even if they really were rose-colored glasses, you couldn’t bring yourself to see him any other way.

You ached all the time. Mentally, even physically. You slept way later into the morning, but also had trouble falling asleep to begin with. It almost felt like along with your heart, every joint in your body broke, and you didn’t know if it would ever get better, despite your best friends constant insistence that this too would pass.

One day, Tsahik Mo’at instructed you to venture further than usual for certain herbs to keep from depleting the supply in your area. Woven satchel in hand, you made your way out, grateful for the alone time in a new area to stimulate your mind to keep from your constant straying thoughts.

You found a clove of what you were looking for, collecting them as you walked, not even looking up past the soil you walked on anymore you were so focused.

“You’re not supposed to come this far.”

You nearly shrieked, almost jumping out of your skin. You turned to see the very object of all of the thoughts you had been avoiding stood leaning against some sort of man-made bunker overgrown with greenery. Neteyam had spoken of this. Of the place that had sheltered his father’s human body while his Avatar roamed free. You knew it’s significance and you knew he had no business here either. “Neither are you, last time I checked,” you narrowed your eyes, your guard up.

Neteyam chuckled, brushing it off. There was a moment of silence where you both just took each other in. You had avoided him with such determination that you had almost forgot what he looked like and the effect it had on you.

“Spirits, you are still perfect,” he said, breathless, but still audible to you.

You scoffed, “What makes you think you can say that?” Your hands shook and your body vibrated with fury and defensiveness.

Neteyam’s eyebrows furrowed and he straightened, walking towards you.

You immediately put a hand out, “No, don’t come any closer.” And because you just couldn’t help it, you spat out, “You can’t just come and go as you please, even if you are the future eyktan.”

He paused, searching for something in your eyes, and gradually came to some sort of realization. “You think I wanted this?”

“Didn’t you?” you challenged.

“No,” he shook his head, coming closer again, grabbing onto your outstretched hand with both of his and stepping into it, head bowed so that your hand made contact with his bare chest, his eyes on you, your own eyes looking at your entwined hands. “I did not want this.” When you refused to look at him, still, you watched as he descended to his knees, you still barely taller than him.

You met his eyes; you saw them filled with emotion. “If you asked what I truly want, y/n, it is an entire lifetime with you. You must know this.”

Your breath came faster, confusion clouding your vision. “What are you saying?”

“You are what I most desire, y/n. Only you.”

Your entire body relaxed, and you sunk to the forest floor, knees together. You whimpered, “Then why, ‘Teyam?”

Neteyam nearly purred at the nickname, bringing his hand up to stroke your cheek with his thumb, “Because I also have a duty to fulfill. And you would be the mightiest Tsahik the people would ever see, know that I truly believe that.”

You exhaled, your palms instinctively reaching for his chest, right over his racing heart. The feel and familiar rhythm grounding you like nothing else.

“But I am also selfish. And I know what the pain and danger that mating with me brings. Not only would you be a target because of your status as Tsahik, but also because of my father. Our family will never escape the danger of the Skypeople, and I refuse to put you in that position. If…If something happened to you, y/n, Eywa, I have imagined it a thousand times over…” unashamed, a tear fell down his face. “It would end me, my love. I cannot know that loss..I cannot, I cannot,” he looked down, whispering it over and over again.

Your chest ached at seeing him so torn, but you knew you had to stand your ground. He had to realize the effect this had on you. You held his face in your hands, quieting him. “Ma Neteyam, I have felt this loss a thousand times worse,” he immediately flinched, looking up at your sorrowful face.

“I had believed all my life that Eywa made you for me and I for you,” at that he offered a small smile. “And when the time came, you rejected me. Whether your intentions were pure or not, for many eclipses now, I have lived in a world where the very person I was born for did not want me. And that loss, you must understand, is far worse than Eywa taking us away from each other, because there is no reason to be woven into it. It is only loss.”

Neteyam took in your words, hands on your knees. Ashamed, he turned away, “I have hurt you so much,” he closed his eyes, dipping his forehead to your shoulder, whispering, “Can you ever forgive me, beloved?”

His pet names were slowly coaxing the old you from the empty, defensive shell you had become, this last one nearly melting you into his arms.

You kissed your teeth, resigning. This was not your war. You wanted this, and you would not punish him more than he deserved. You inched closer, giving him time to lean back as you straddled him, his hands immediately going to your hips, that beautiful face looking at you in confusion and utter nervousness, as if you held the weight of his life in your next words.

You tilted forwards, your lips slanting over his. “I see you, Neteyam. It is already forgotten.”

His breath hitched, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond, because you moved your lips against his. Your first kiss. Not at all how you expected, tasting of the salt of your combined tears, but still as perfect and unreal as you dreamed. His eyes fluttered closed as he moved a hand to your jaw, guiding you into a deeper kiss. You grew hungrier, your toes curling at the sensation. All you could process was the feel of his fingers digging into your waist, holding you as if he was afraid to let go, every inch of your front pressed against his so that you felt his heartbeat through all of your skin. You hoped he felt yours, too.

He stopped you for a second, you chasing his retreating mouth, drawing a grin from him as he licked his swollen lips, both of you panting. He just looked at you, head cocked, smile soft.

“What?” you asked, nuzzling his nose. “Nothing,” he shook his head. “Everything.” His smile fell as his gaze became serious, with an intensity you had never seen before. He held your jaw, gentle but rigid, “I see you, Ma y/n.”

You couldn’t have predicted the effect those words would have on you. They fell off his tongue with such ease, but you quite literally purred. Your arms encircled his neck and you simply embraced him, cherishing the feel of your skin on his and letting the warmth flow between you. “I pray to Eywa I will always feel as content as I do right now.” You leaned back to meet his eyes, “I cannot wait for the day we make it official, ‘Teyam.”

His eyes darkened with desire, “Neither can I, my love.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x oc #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar twow #avatar

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vampirae · 3 months

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Astrology knowledge + personal notes

Disclaimer! Some paragraphs are pure astrological knowledge, others are just mine personal opinions and experiences. Experiences aren't universal, it may apply to some and not to others.

You don't feel like the 4th house is accurately describing your family dynamics or traumas? Nice, then look at your 2nd house. The 4th house talks about your family, but mostly about your roots, generational trauma, your country, your literal home etc. Meanwhile the infamous 2nd house associated always exclusively with money, in reality is linked directly to your childhood, your family dynamics/setting, values or traumas they gave you, also your literal future family etc. E.g. Venus in the 2nd house is associated with being spoiled or likely to be giving gifts or favours, but why? Probably because in their childhood caregivers tried to "buy their love" so they associate gifts to being loved. Look at the planets in your 2nd house, its ruler, and the aspects etc.

Cancer sun men, usually tend to be cheap or stingy, literally, never met a Cancer sun man in my life who isn't so, if they behave differently it's usually because it suits their own personal agenda, or try to manipulate you.

Aries moon women tend to post absolutely gorgeous photos, they're so artistic, and know how to take or edit photos or videos.

Cancer rising is so funny, relatable or friendly, they naturally attract people or masses, they're charismatic in their own way, but they tend to be private and dislike when people invade too much of their personal space without permission; some will cut you immediately off, others will be waiting patiently for you to finally understand you're being inappropriate, literally no in between.

Moon in the 12th house, from my own personal experiences, terrible friends. Likely to be great companions if you want to get high or drink or talk about whatever without being judged, but literally avoid them in "no chill time". Extremely manipulative, always victim of the circumstances, helpless and problematic. Briefly, if you don't want to find yourself being a free therapist for hours, a free ATM or parenting a whole ass adult, just avoid getting closer to them. On the other hand, great and sacrificial lovers, but vampiric succubus as friends. (To the people asking me which 12th house moon hurt me, well too many my darling, this is why they're on my blacklist).

When it comes to raw sexual libido mars in fall and detriment are the ones most usually labelled with low libido, which is true, but still in my opinion and experiences they're not on the same level. Mars is Cancer is the one with the highest libido between the three, then Libra and last Taurus. Furthermore men with this mars (the aforementioned) are more prone to have issues with their, ahem, "friend". But, gladly, they also have wild fantasies and are more prone to compromise or satisfy their partner's desires. E.g. if you want them to be dominant, they'll try their best to be your Master/Daddy etc. Last but not least, despite being "shy" and at first look traditional, they're more open to use toys or try new sex positions if it's your will, but won't share you (so threesome or orges literally it's a big NO if they truly love you).

Sagittarius and Cancer placements are competitive AF, but the last one will give up if they're gonna lose or act uninterested, or just whine in the corner about how life is unjust with them. Sagittarius placements, will look chill and playful, but they're extremely competitive, not only because of the prize, but it's a great opportunity to learn something new, or master some of their skills, or just an adrenaline shot. Literally, they're second to Aries when it comes to competing, yet people are unaware of this nature because of their nonchalant and sometimes dumbass vibes/behaviour.

Talking about Sagittarius placements again, when they're labeled as funny, don't think they're master at telling jokes or giving clever clapbacks, in fact, earth signs are masters of this type of humour. Sagittarius placements are funny because of their spontaneous nature: like saying some weird or shocking things with a serious face, or doing some WTF stuff, literally they're funny in original ways and something you never expected. With time they'll acquire a more "normal" sense of humour, but usually they're memorable for their unexpected humour.

Virgo really needs some structure or specific goals or tasks. They could have a hard time with unspecific projects, games or work, they'll literally stay there like a NPC waiting for your interaction or order, analysing the situations, outcomes and necessities.

Libra placements are charming and a good company, their indecisiveness is forgivable most of the time, until you have to work with them. It can be so stressful sometimes to work with or under a Libra (sun, rising or mars), you never know when they'll change their idea again or return to an old project, or what you have to do. I'm sorry to say it, but they're problematic bosses and owners. To lift yourself from this curse, there are few options, like changing job or aggressive yet polite confrontation, just to make it clear, next time you won't forgive and neither make you lose your time again, because it's the only resource you can't buy or restore.

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vasito-de-leche · 4 months

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I LOVED YOUR GENERAL HEADCANNONS FOR PAVIA IT WAS SO IN DEPTH !! I WAS WONDERING IF YOU CAN PLZZZZ MAKE RELATIONSHIP HC FOR HIM IF HE EVER DECIDED TO GET IN ONE PLZZZ 😔🙏🏼🙏🏼

;R1999 PAVIA - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Pavia in a romantic relationship.

sure thing! glad you liked the previous pavia posts <3

I already wrote like, a couple thousand words analyzing Pavia and romance, how he expresses his love and how he likes to receive affection, so apologies if I end up?? repeating myself?? I feel like I'm running out of general romance stuff to discuss when it comes to him LMFAO I did try to branch out a lil here

Pavia despises labels and refuses to "name" his relationship.

Yes, I just said I'd try to branch out and avoid repeating myself - but I feel like this point is important to put here as well, since it's pretty much Pavia's one and only "rule".

In a previous post, I talked about how the one thing that would make Pavia feel truly betrayed, even going as far as to cut you out of his life entirely, is something as simple as insisting on putting a name or label to your relationship with him.

Once become part of the pack and part of his life, you get free reign to do anything you want, your dynamic with him can be as complex or as simple as you make it out to be, and he'll follow you to hell and back - as long as you don't ever try to categorize the special bond you and Pavia share.

He's not your boyfriend, he's not your husband, he's not your fuck buddy. Nor your best friend, nor your soulmate, nor your coworker or neighbour. Don't expect him to live up to any of these titles.

He's just Pavia, and he's yours. The same way you're just yourself, and you're his. Period.

This all stems from Pavia's deep seated hatred for everything that's "proper" in society - he rejects everything they stand for, including these small boxes, these stupid names they have that could never even begin to describe the depths of his feelings and relationship with you. They can't apply to what you two have. Why even bother trying to get the world to understand by telling them he's "your boyfriend"? He's so much more than that, and you're so much more than just his "partner" - it's almost an insult to him.

As far as Pavia is concerned, the world consists of him and his partner and the pack. He's not someone who'd bother trying to justify, let alone explain, his existence and experiences to others. Why start now?

You're also shit out of luck if you think you can drag him to the altar, get him to propose or do whatever "proper" partners do. Instead, he prefers things that are unique to this relationship and that are privy only to the two of you. To find and create little traditions with you that feel just right, whatever they may be.

This also applies on reverse, too. There is never any pressure from Pavia for you to live up to some stupid, nonsensical and unspoken standard for couples - such as doing something special for anniversaries, holidays like Valentine's Day, remember his birthday or whatever else. You two get to decide which days are important, thank you very much! And if he wants something, he'll simply ask for it, it's as easy as that.

Being in a relationship with Pavia can be quite intense at times because of the way he's wired, but at the same time it's a breeze of fresh air because he quite literally frees you from all the extra baggage of typical relationships.

On the subject of Pavia and possessiveness.

Because of how territorial he is with his material possessions, people expect Pavia to be the exact same with you. I'd say it depends on the day?

Overall, Pavia is extremely confident, both in himself and in this relationship. You're the only person he sees as a true equal, so his trust in you is unwavering. And because of the unorthodox nature of this relationship, it's established pretty early on that he doesn't care what you do with other people - as long as it doesn't affect your dynamic with him, he really couldn't care less.

He's had his own share of flings and one-night stands prior to meeting you, all of them devoid of any meaning, importance or emotional weight. So he gets it, sometimes you wanna fuck around. Doesn't mean you care about him any less. If you allowed some small fry to get between the two of you, you wouldn't have lasted as his partner. Easy. And he trusts that you'll seek him out if you ever have any trouble dealing with suitors and whatnot. Pavia is always down to bury a body with you, it builds character!

If you ever see Pavia act possessive in public, trying to throw hands with anyone who looks at you and making a point of showing that you're both taken, it's because he knows you're into it. He knows you like the back of his hand, if you're into the scary dog privileges that come along with being with him, he'll know. Ohhh, he'll know and he'll be so obnoxious about it.

There's not a single person in this world that could ever make him feel threatened enough to do all of this on impulse. It's a little act, he loves to show off for you and do things with you in mind.

On the other hand, that could also just be Pavia being his casually affectionate self, not caring at all about his surroundings. If he feels like having you sit on his lap, he'll just pull you there. If he feels like sitting on your lap, he'll just do that.

Who cares who's watching? If people wanna take it as him being possessive, that's their issue. He just wants to be near you. If anyone has any problem, the complaint box is right there. They can die mad about it, seethe, etc.

The pack will start obeying and listening to you. They live in your shadow, as much as they live in Pavia's.

Because the wolves come from his arcane skills, they're attuned to Pavia. And because Pavia is so attuned to you and vice versa, the wolves will inevitably start treating you the same way they treat him.

I like to think this is the closest thing to Pavia "imprinting" on you, to draw more parallels to his animalistic side - no matter where you are, there's a part of him with you: the pack. They'll jump out should you feel in danger or lonely whenever he's not around, and also serve as a way for him to keep track of where you are, just in case. If he ever gets too injured to crawl home back to you, one of the wolves will drag you to his location instead, though this is extremely rare.

If you travel too far away from Pavia, this whole thing will stop working. And you'll know it because it'll feel like a part of you is suddenly gone - just a very small part, enough to make you feel suddenly weird, like you put on your shoes on the wrong feet in the morning.

I don't think anyone could ever reach the same level of connection Pavia has with the pack, that's a whole different can of worms. Yet another inexplicable dynamic. The furthest you could go is understanding how Pavia can tell them all apart, which is when they'll start to properly obey you.

Biting as a show of affection.

I did talk about this in a different post, but then I remembered this one post about how Pavia would get your bite marks tattooed and I started losing my mind over it again.

Instead of kisses, Pavia has the tendency to bite and nibble on you. Your shoulder, your neck, your ears, your nose... Anything he can get his teeth on. If he's particularly playful, he just takes a big bite of your cheek or straight up licks your cheek to piss you off.

I like to think Pavia is the type of person who leads with his mouth first and foremost - he's loud when he speaks, he's all bark and all bite, he has no problem baring his teeth at the world, he points at things with his lips, sticks his tongue out when focusing on something, he chews on lollypop sticks until they end up soggy and fucked up, he gets so riled up when you kiss him and your tongue brushes or traces his teeth.

And he can't get enough of having you fill his thoughts, heart and mouth. The guy has so much aggressive affection for you, it's almost unbearable. If he could, he would eat you up on the spot. You're his personal chew toy, his silly rabbit, the one person that drives him up the wall.

Sometimes, he gets distracted and goes too far, it's pretty easy for his sharp canines to draw blood - he'll apologize and make up for it by lapping it up and kissing you better all over. And by reminding you that you're free to bite him as hard as you can, anytime you want, as payback! Though you suspect it's more of a reward than a punishment for him.

If you give him the chance, Pavia would love to get your bite marks tattooed anywhere you want - pick a spot and start biting, don't be shy! Any scars you leave on his body for whatever reason, he'd love to make them permanent and visible.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #re1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #r1999 headcanons #reverse 1999 pavia #headcanons #see this is awesome bc this just became a pavia and FMN blog #and theyre both on exact opposite sides of every single spectrum ever #so i get to write abt my two awful boyfriends and never feel like im writing the same things

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highpriestessaset · 6 months

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Pick an image: allow your intuition to guide you in your selection.

IMAGE 1:

BEG- This is a time to focus on overcoming your fears. Your mind can be your greatest ally or your worst enemy. It may be worth asking yourself, “what’s the worst that can happen”, and go from there. The High Priestess sees the past, present, and future. Try expanding your view to be open to possibilities you haven’t yet considered. Recovery is on your side.

MID- You may have some emotional upset about a loss you may be experiencing but again, recovery is on your side. When one door closes, another door opens. On this part of your journey, you will find happiness that your new beginning is exactly where you need to be.

END- At this point in your journey, you may be called to step into more of a leadership/independent role. You may be feeling more deserving and start to cultivate new standards for who or what is worth your time. Your time is valuable- always.

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IMAGE 2:

BEG- At this time, you are extremely intuitive. You may be getting signs or gut feelings about what direction to go or decision to make. See this as guidance in alignment with your desires and purpose. Any rejection you may experience is only to steer you in the right direction, see it as a blessing. Divine timing is on your side, be sure to practice patience in the meantime.

MID- If you are considering cutting ties from something, this may be in your best interest. This can be a person/people or thoughts that are keeping you from trusting yourself. I feel that whatever you may need to cut ties from is something that makes you feel stuck or limited. I see a change being made that can bring more balance into your life. Your voice is powerful.

END- For some, I see a separation or “falling out” between people. The communication has mutually stopped or is not returned by the other.

For all, this is a period of change to adapt to a new life. Cancel out the noise of outside sources so that you can truly hear your own voice. What do you need? What is best for you? Have you been expressing yourself or holding back? Why? At this time, “be cool as a cucumber”- practice calmness and patiently observing your inner senses.

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IMAGE 3:

BEG- At this time, you may be learning more about the gifts of nature. I see someone who is stepping away from drama and focusing on how they can be rejuvenated by the sun, moon, or the earth. Partying or gatherings may become less appealing to you. You might have different interests in shows, make changes to your diet, start drinking less, or spending more time outside. Ultimately, expect changes to your life style that brings you fulfillment and healing through nature.

MID- On this part of your journey, you may be falling down a rabbit hole of knowledge. Go at your own pace! Be warned that your journey is yours, not everyone will be able to understand it or come with you. Simply lead by example, others will be ready on their own time.

For some: I see vegetarianism or veganism being apart of your journey. Get as much information as you can and then, always try it for yourself. Worry less about labels/“do’s and don’ts” and more about how it makes YOUR body feel.

END- You are an agent of change. You model empathy, compassion, and forgiveness. Although, it may be difficult to do, people are observing you whether you know it or not. Practicing these things lets others know that finding peace is possible. Strive to be the best you through the hurt of loss and uncertainty. Whoever or whatever you have lost brings room for gains- new people, places, and opportunities. The more you seek out your true self, the easier it is for those things to find you.

*Readings are for entertainment purposes only.*

-//Blessings 🌺

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infipretty · 2 years

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˚ ⋆ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 ♡ 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐅𝐭. 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 <3

🫧 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟏 | 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

Why don't you take a minute and sit down? No, you don't have to bear every single obligation on your shoulder. Mistakes occurs, it's natural for all. Don't torment yourself over something that's already done, move ahead sweetie. Let the rest go; you've already done enough on your part. Let go of that someone or something. Create boundaries for yourself and be firm with them. They're already enough people out there who would enjoy your downfall, don't give them a show and take care! Some of you are about to be recognised for your efforts and will soon feel appreciated. Someone close to you may provide you with gifts soon (a woman specifically), perhaps a watch or some jewellery. You're getting closer to your divine feminine, sensual energy surrounds you. You are now being admired and sought after by many individuals, including some of your own gender. You are seen as alluring and Mysterious. Find a tad bit more confidence and harmony within yourself, yea? You don't need a label or someone's approval to feel extraordinary, you are already making heads turn your way. But be careful, Some people in your vicinity are not as kind as they would want to appear, you're about to see people's 'true faces'. You might be acquainted with some stuff/knowledge only known to a few very soon.

🫧 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟐 | 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

MY MY, Someone's getting into Main Character Energy huh? Fun things are in store for you, love. You are travelling a path of recovery, security, and optimism. This will take time, but you will get there! Some of you may be physically travelling soon or starting a new journey even. Find inspiration, create inspiration, go ahead with whatever it is on your mind. You won't know unless you don't try. You seem to be spending a lot of time with your friends, perhaps making new ones or re-establishing relationships with the old ones. Let release of any and all worries and take pleasure in other people's company. You might even become closer to your family, especially your siblings. Celebrations and Success are around the corner for you. Keep your head high and alert. You might wanna get rid of habits that no longer serve you. OH AND, Someone with excellent intentions is eyeing you from afar, perhaps a potential admirer? They will approach you at their leisure; in the meantime, they might as well check your social media stories and admire you from a distance.

🫧 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟑 | 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

Goddamn, such fierce and determined energy we have here. Ready to get yourself back on the path, sweets? Someone from your past may be coming your way, wishing to get closer to you. They don't hold malicious intentions but regret. To let them in or not, is on you and solely you. Remember, You're in the command of the situation. And if not that, some apology is going to be made to you. On the other hand, A lot of you are getting used to your sexual energy and putting yourself out there. Love seems to be on its way, and an impactful one this time. A romantic prospect seems to be moving towards you with someone you're destined to meet. Some of you may have had a shift in perception of certain things recently and good for you, that new perception seems to suit you and bring you harmony and peace. Keep on working hard on whatever it is that you're working upon, take advantage of opportunities that are being provided to you. You might wanna tone down the amount of time you waste on your phone/laptop/webseries etc and get your sleeping schedule right.

©Infipretty | My other PACs

#pac #pacs #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #daily tarot #pick an image #tarotonline #witchblr #tarot blog #tarot community

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1moreff-creator · 8 months

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How the LGI MV proves MonoTVid is both canon and a doomed ship

In this totally serious analysis post, I will show you, with 100% irrefutable evidence, that MonoTVid (the common ship name for MonoTV x David) is destined to be both canon and a doomed ship. This is in honor of them recently winning that one poll in The Website Formerly Known As Twitter, a poll which I do not entirely understand but one which I will respect regardless.

I will not accept any criticism on this post. I am objectively correct. If you find mistakes in this post, then what you’ve found is a mistake in your brain.

Obviously a TV, Obviously a Ship

Observe.

Now, do you understand?

If you don’t, let me spell it out for you. We have what is “obviously a TV” with terrorist iconography, which obviously represents MonoTV, nearby several elements which clearly represent David. The hair clips, the megaphone, the dummy. You’ll see “dummies” is plural, because David is a dummy. This is the first clue to the tsundenderish nature of David, as he is literally calling himself a “baka”, perhaps even of the sussy variety. If he calls himself “baka”, could he use the same word to describe someone else?

But the true indication of this ship is the lemon on top of the TV. See, the lemon in the story “Lemon” by the man who wrote the story “Lemon”, whoever he was, is a lemon which represents, despite being a lemon, a person’s will to live. If you want further context on this lemon, read the background text near the lemon when the lyric “make a lemon bomb” shows up on screen, near the lemon. You think I’m gonna post an image of the lemon text near the lemon? No. You should know the lemon text near the lemon by heart.

Anyways, this lemon is obviously on top of the TV to represent that MonoTV is David’s reason to live. There are no other possible interpretations.

But you may also see those dandelions, labeled “weeds”. Weed is what I’m taking to make this post. Not cannabis, I am sniffing dandelions. This is besides the point.

Now, you’ll realize that since dandelions represent happiness, and even hope, the point the video tries to make with them is that David sees these things as annoying weeds. This shows MonoTV and David both hate hope. They are clearly lovers.

But what you didn’t notice, and I know you didn’t notice for I am in your walls, is footnote 18: “A/N: soz not very good at drawing flowers lol!!!”. See, David is the author of these notes, which is obvious from things like footnote 11, the “I am an only child” one. What this footnote means is that David gave these flowers to MonoTV, but he’s embarrassed about it, because he doesn’t think any gift can match the divine splendor of MonoTV. David is just that sweet. That much of a cinnamon roll who can do no wrong. A skrunkly. A blorbo. What other words can I use to brainwash Tumblr users.

Now, look at these.

Look at the balloon and the Monokuma plushie. Does my inconsistent coloring of “the” bother you? I am very evil. You’ll see the balloon is labeled “stupid kid’s toy”, while the plushie is “a popular toy”.

Now, you might think this is another indication that David sees anything related to hope, like balloons, as inherently childish and stupid. Meanwhile, he sees anything related to despair, like Monokuma, as more grounded.

You are wrong.

You seem, MonoTV has stated Monokuma is its dad. So this being in the video means that MonoTV is David’s daddy and his toy. I’ll explain when you’re older. Just kidding, I won’t. Fuck that.

Not convinced?

Why? I am always right, so you shouldn’t doubt me.

But okay, I guess:

I Will Bring Up Color Theory For The Thousandth Post In A Row

I am not linking the accirax post for the fiftieth time. Look it up yourself.

Look:

Yellow for David, cyan for MonoTV. Many have tried to come up with an answer for what “original” means, but it’s actually really simple.

See, David has an I. You wanna know who else has an I? Dark blue, which may be J. And J is the mastermind. Here’s the source for that, it’s somewhere in that video, you just have to find it.

So, J, who is the mastermind and thus essentially MonoTV, has the same letter as David. This clearly shows David and MonoTV are lovers.

Here’s another case of a cyan I.

Boom. Theorizing’s easy.

Then, look.

David has game in yellow, then MonoTV has game in cyan. They’re lovers. Do you find another explanation? No, no you don’t. You will not think critically about this post. You are not immune to MonoTVid propaganda.

But, alas, the ship is not to last.

David is a Cat

At the beginning of the video:

David calls himself a cat, then MonoTV shows up to remind us it’s a dog. You might think it doesn’t mean much, but there actually is meaning behind David being a cat. See, it’s related to the archaic Japanese pronoun “wagahai”, referenced-

Nah, you don’t care about that. David’s a cat, source just trust me bro.

That’s what the black and white cat sitting next to David actually represents: David, tied by color scheme to MonoTV. I’m writing this on my phone and don’t feel like waiting to get to a computer to get past the 10 image limit, so we’re out of visuals.

Why is this important? Well, if you take into account the Romeo and Juliet quote that footnote 8 is attached to (here’s a screenshot), it’s clear the MV is trying to convey a story of two people in love separated by fate. This is clearly about David and MonoTV, which is further represented by David being represented by a cat when MonoTV is obviously a dog. Truly sad. Can I get an amen?

Are you not convinced yet? Crazy. Well, one last thing then.

It’s All Democratic

“To be or not to be? Who knows? Let’s decide! Democratic-ly”

You see how the rules for class trials are on the same image as democratic-ly? Well, this is a clear reference to the poll on The Website Formerly Known As Twitter. Since MonoTVid was chosen as the winner of said poll, it was chosen “democratically”, and will thus become a canon doomed ship. You might wonder if this means the dev has the ability to see the future. But we are not to speculate on the dev’s identity, so while we can’t theorize they are clairvoyant, we also can’t speculate they aren’t. Checkmate.

In fact, The Website Formerly Known As Twitter is now sometimes referred to as “X”, an obvious reference to the X on this screen. Because surely no one would be so absolutely idiotic as to just name the website “X” for no reason.

But hold on, isn’t this X actually Roman numeral 10 for Min?

Well, obviously. We never saw Min’s corpse in her execution, which means she survived and is the second mastermind alongside J. Min is still alive. Min is still alive. Min is still alive. Min is still-

Am I a Whit Young kinnie, but specifically for Min? No, obviously. Because Min isn’t like Whit’s mom, because Min is still alive.

The point is, Min is related back to MonoTV through her mastermind-y nature, and MonoTV to MonoTVid, I’m too lazy to actually continue writing this post.

—————————————————————————

Did you actually read this all the way to end? Are you okay? Do you need a hug? Because this is insane. I don’t know why I made this. Take care!

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #david chiem #monotv #monotvid #i went insane from reading too much #actually what the fuck am i doing #shitpost

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ndbookstudy · 8 months

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the power of now, eckhart tolle.

note: i was going to make a q&a type of post, but i just decided to copy paste the chapter questions instead!

chapter one, you are not your mind - the greatest obstacle to enlightenment.

The word enlightenment conjures up the idea of some super-human accomplishment, and the ego likes to keep it that way, but it is simply your natural state of felt oneness with Being. It is a state of connectedness with something immeasurable and indestructible, something that, almost paradoxically, is essentially you and yet is much greater than you. It is finding your true nature beyond name and form. The inability to feel this connectedness gives rise to the illusion of separation, from yourself and from the world around you. You then perceive yourself, consciously or unconsciously, as an isolated fragment. Fear arises, and conflict within and without becomes the norm.

I love the Buddha's simple definition of enlightenment as "the end of suffering." There is nothing superhuman in that, is there? Of course, as a definition, it is incomplete. It only tells you what enlightenment is not: no suffering. But what's left when there is no more suffering? The Buddha is silent on that, and his silence implies that you'll have to find out for yourself. He uses a negative definition so that the mind cannot make it into something to believe in or into a superhuman accomplishment, a goal that is impossible for you to attain. Despite this precaution, the majority of Buddhists still believe that enlightenment is for the Buddha, not for them, at least not in this lifetime.

You used the word Being. Can you explain what you mean by that?

Being is the eternal, ever-present One Life beyond the myriad forms of life that are subject to birth and death. However, Being is not only beyond but also deep within every form as its innermost invisible and indestructible essence. This means that it is accessible to you now as your own deepest self, your true nature. But don't seek to grasp it with your mind. Don't try to understand it. You can know it only when the mind is still. When you are present, when your attention is fully and intensely in the Now, Being can be felt, but it can never be understood mentally. To regain awareness of Being and to abide in that state of "feeling-realization" is enlightenment.

What is the greatest obstacle to experiencing this reality?

Identification with your mind, which causes thought to become compulsive. Not to be able to stop thinking is a dreadful affliction, but we don't realize this because almost everybody is suffering from it, so it is considered normal. This incessant mental noise prevents you from finding that realm of inner stillness that is inseparable from Being. It also creates a false mind-made self that casts a shadow of fear and suffering. We will look at all that in more detail later.

The philosopher Descartes believed that he had found the most fundamental truth when he made his famous statement: "I think, therefore I am." He had, in fact, given expression to the most basic error: to equate thinking with Being and identity with thinking. The compulsive thinker, which means almost everyone, lives in a state of apparent separateness, in an insanely complex world of continuous problems and conflict, a world that reflects the ever-increasing fragmentation of the mind. Enlightenment is a state of wholeness, of being "at one" and therefore at peace. At one with life in its manifested aspect, the world, as well as with your deepest self and life unmanifested - at one with Being. Enlightenment is not only the end of suffering and of continuous conflict within and without, but also the end of the dreadful enslavement to incessant thinking. What an incredible liberation this is!

Identification with your mind creates an opaque screen of concepts, labels, images, words, judgments, and definitions that blocks all true relationship. It comes between you and yourself, between you and your fellow man and woman, between you and nature, between you and God. It is this screen of thought that creates the illusion of separateness, the illusion that there is you and a totally separate "other." You then forget the essential fact that, underneath the level of physical appearances and separate forms, you are one with all that is. By "forget," I mean that you can no longer feel this oneness as self-evident reality. You may believe it to be true, but you no longer know it to be true. A belief may be comforting. Only through your own experience, however, does it become liberating. Thinking has become a disease. Disease happens when things get out of balance.

For example, there is nothing wrong with cells dividing and multiplying in the body, but when this process continues in disregard of the total organism, cells proliferate and we have disease.

Note: The mind is a superb instrument if used rightly. Used wrongly, however, it becomes very destructive. To put it more accurately, it is not so much that you use your mind wrongly - you usually don't use it at all. It uses you. This is the disease. You believe that you are your mind. This is the delusion. The instrument has taken you over.

I don't quite agree. It is true that I do a lot of aimless thinking, like most people, but I can still choose to use my mind to get and accomplish things, and I do that all the time.

Just because you can solve a crossword puzzle or build an atom bomb doesn't mean that you use your mind. Just as dogs love to chew bones, the mind loves to get its teeth into problems. That's why it does crossword puzzles and builds atom bombs. You have no interest in either. Let me ask you this: can you be free of your mind whenever you want to? Have you found the "off" button?

You mean stop thinking altogether? No, I can't, except maybe for a moment or two.

Then the mind is using you. You are unconsciously identified with it, so you don't even know that you are its slave. It's almost as if you were possessed without knowing it, and so you take the possessing entity to be yourself. The beginning of freedom is the realization that you are not the possessing entity -- the thinker. Knowing this enables you to observe the entity. The moment you start watching the thinker, a higher level of consciousness becomes activated.

You then begin to realize that there is a vast realm of intelligence beyond thought, that thought is only a tiny aspect of that intelligence. You also realize that all the things that truly matter - beauty, love, creativity, joy, inner peace - arise from beyond the mind. You begin to awaken.

#non dualism #nondualism #eckhart tolle

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vintagehellfire · 9 months

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All For Show | E.M

musician!Eddie x showgirl!reader

summary: 1955 New York City, where dreams come true. You get to dance and perform for crowds every night, bringing in good money for yourself and for daddy’s jazz club. The regulars love you, the women envy you, and the musicians are strictly banned from flirting with you (and the other dancers of course). This wasn’t a problem until your father up and coming musician Eddie Munson to perform at his jazz club. Eddie was the first man to catch your eye, and you the first performer to be worth his time, and your fathers wrath.

warnings: implied female reader, mysoginy, eventual smut, swearing, no use of y/n, nudity, drugs, smoking, slow-burn, alcohol, anger issues, controlling father, mentions of assault/implied assault (against reader), 18+ only. mdni

Chapter II: Devil Woman, You’ve Cast Your Spell | 5.2k words

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The utterance of the three simple words had your head reeling, an informality at best, an extension of some private and more intimate privilege at worst. Admittedly, the name suited him far better than the formal nature your father addressed the man in. Nothing about Eddie could be labeled as formal much to your fathers chagrin. His unruly hair, tied up in a crows nest of a bun, little curls falling out from in front of his ears. His button up shirt was a little wrinkled, a product of sweating under the hot lights of the stage, but he wore it so well. He gave the impression that he worked a hard day's labour and was finally given a moment of reprieve. The energy Eddie exuded was nothing if not easy going, the slender cigarette tucked between his index and middle finger, brought gently to kiss the space between his lips. An inhale, a held breath, a gentle exhale, and possibly just the prettiest twists of smoke you might have ever bore witness to. As he drew the cancerous vice away from his mouth, he dropped his arm, sleeves slipping back down to cover his inked arms. And god what you’d do to be held in his arms, tasting his lips.

You bashfully introduced yourself, cheeks heating at the realisation that you’ve been staring at this man for far too long, however it’s not like he hadn’t been taking you in either. The pout to your red lips, your beautiful and wide eyes that were accentuated by a nice little flick of a cat eye, the tail of your eyeliner coming to a point so sharp that he would have thought you took a blade to draw it on. Your perfectly coiffed hair bounced with volume, and your robe left little to the imagination, especially after such a show you had put on. You extended a manicured hand out to the man, and with a small second of hesitation, and an approving nod from your father, Eddie shook your it. As soon as his rough and calloused hand slid into your delicate one, there was a spark that went off, something that made you never want to relinquish the privilege you were just granted. In that same moment, neurons started firing on the musician’s end. His split second thoughts went to insecurity over the contrast that was the delicate nature of your skin versus the used and abused workers hands. There wasn’t a way you should have enjoyed the feeling of sandpaper skin against silk, yet it was of note that his hands were not that of sandpaper, no. They were workers' hands and yet they held a lightness to them, a certain airiness that wasn’t often found in the hands of men.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” You let out, voice casually sultry — your father was simple enough to think it was still the act you were putting on, after all it was good for the reputation of the club if you kept appearances — the reality was much worse, the reality was that Eddie had simple stolen any ounce of breath you held in your lungs. How could he not?

“Likewise, sweetheart.” Breathed out the man with doe eyes. You could have sworn your heart stopped at the pet name, you could have given yourself away had you not been a good enough actress, and yet you tried to remain composed as one of the only men to have been able to capture your attention was so cavalier as to utter such sweet words in front of your father. Your eyes locked onto his, not daring look away because if you did, how were you supposed to memorise the galaxies in his irises and commit them to memory for years to come if you did? How would you live with yourself if you didn’t remember the man that had your breath hitch from the second you spotted him? Your father cleared his throat, interrupting the intense staring contest you and Eddie had gotten yourselves into. Both your hands dropped to your sides at that.

“Now kids,” you father started, “there’s a rehearsal tomorrow, Munson here has got a new song he’s been toying with, haven’t ‘cha, son?” He asks, patting Eddie on the back harshly. That was just how your father was, however; ever intense and without comprehension of other’s personal space.

“Hmm? Oh yeah!” Eddie let out. “It’s this really lovely piece called Pink Pussycat, I think it would be right up your alley, sweetheart.” There it was again, that little pet name. “I’d need to steal you away for a few hours tomorrow afternoon — if that’s alright with your old man of course,” he received a curt nod from your father. “I know it’s last minute but I’d at least like to try.” He lets out, a smile creeping onto his lips. “Besides, how are we to coordinate your dance numbers if you don’t know the songs you’re dancing to?” He asked with a wink, dimples becoming more prominent the wider he smiled. Your heart melted at his words and your eyes slowly trailed down to his perfect lips, his entrancing dimples. You swore he smiled with his whole face, eyes shining with a glint of mischief. You bit your lip as you looked to the floor, providing Eddie with a nod in agreement.

“Alright, pretty boy, you bring up a valid point.” Your lips split into a mischievous grin. Eddie could have sworn his heart leapt into his throat at the casual flirtation, his figure stiffening up. Surely you were like that with everybody, it was a lot easier to tell himself that you were rather than overthink and speculate why you were choosing to lightly flirt with him in the presence of your father. He shook it off and returned a blank expression. He couldn’t let himself feel this way about you, especially with your father owning the club. Your father, who had made it clear that any sort of flirtation or affair was strictly forbidden with you. Eddie couldn’t help but get lost in your words, your eyes, and he couldn’t help maybe get a little lost in the promise that the flirtation hinted at but he was doing his best not to. “Just give me a time and a place, and I’ll be there.” You flashed him your angelic smile, bright red lips tugging at the corners, eyes crinkling with smoothed out crows feet. The musician couldn’t help but crack a smile in return, yours becoming infectious like a disease but he couldn’t help but want more of it.

The following morning you sauntered into the bar, nerves eating you alive with the anticipation that you’d get to see Eddie. Your mind ran itself into the gutter the previous night, tempting you with what you couldn’t have, with what was just under your nose and yet so far away, buried deep in what should have been a bottomless grave. Your father would never allow for such a thing, going steady with a club musician, much less a beatnick jazz musician that played at his club. Your heels clacked on the floor with every confident step you took, heart hammering into your chest as you approached the stage. Daddy wouldn’t be in until at least noon, a shipment of rye coming in rather late for his liking, and so he trusted you to not get into too much trouble. Somehow, trouble always found you.

“Fancy seeing you so early, sweetheart.” The voice mused. You quickly shot your head towards the source, cheeks heating at the pet name. As soon as you laid eyes on Eddie, the sinful cigarette perched upon his bottom lip, a deep inhale, had smoke curling out from his parted mouth. He blew out the blue-grey whisps gently, making sure not to blow the cancerous substance towards you. Not once had you believed that such a habit could be so alluring, and yet here was Eddie Munson, already altering how you saw such mundane everyday habits.

“Thought I’d sneak in some practice time before father gets here. He likes giving some of the morning crowd a show sometimes, but the pressure of him being there as well isn’t always welcome believe it or not.” You admit bashfully. You’d rather not dance for the morning crowd but sometimes it helped to get some practice in front of the regulars. Delores often came in for her coffee and to read the paper, solving the crossword in the company of your father while he made sure to take care of the grime and dishes from the previous night. Harold would come in after a long night shift, as for the on the rocks and down it while he listened to Delores rattle off crossword clues as if it was this morning's news. There was also Gus who would swing by for his coffee and idle chat with father, asking about any up and coming musicians he should keep an eye on.

“Well alright then snake,” Eddie laughed out, “let’s rattle.” A mischievous smile graced his lips as he stubbed out his cigarette. He slid behind the piano that found home up on the stage and he found a sort of solace being behind the instrument. He belonged and it was as if he commanded the piano to play the music. He was its master, not the other way around. He commanded the music, the music didn’t command him and as soon as his fingers brushed against the keys, the rhythm swept you off your feet and you began moving in what seemed like the most natural and sensuous way you knew. You were the perfect example of the music mastering you, guiding you. The music was your partner and you didn’t need anybody but it. Surprisingly, you found yourself longing for a new partner, and he so happened to be across the room, brown pools darting down towards the ivory keys in a hurry, knowing he was caught staring at you.

The theme echoed through the music hall, allowing you to sway your hips slowly to the tune. Without the eyes of those close to you trickling across your figure, you dared approach Eddie, putting on a little performance for him, bending over and dragging your body up along your legs before you flipped your hair back, tossing a look over your shoulder and supplying him with the most suggestive wink. With that you sauntered across the stage making your way down low to your knees, spreading your legs slowly, leaning into the way the music moved you. If Eddie weren’t so dedicated to his job, god he would have lost it there and then. He was sure that he had made some devil angry enough to send this angel to him and forbid him from ever having a taste of heaven. If the world were on his side he’d be up there dancing jive with you, swinging you in his strong arms, if the world were on his side he would have met you before being hired by your fathers club, but the world was rarely on his side. God, the devil, however you wanted to put it, was decidedly against Eddie Munson and so that being the reality he would have to work to tamper his feelings down, beating them to a pulp.

It wasn’t long before you got a routine down, running over it a couple of times before you had gone to change into costume in order to give your father a show of what was to come. He was usually the one to see your routine and cheer you on, and it was his stamp of approval, a little kiss to the forehead, and let you know that it was an exquisite performance. And so that was what you planned to do, you got changed and in the early evening you nudged Eddie to start playing the intro to the song while you shook off your nerves backstage. As the first notes rang through, you stepped out, extending your smooth leg out from behind the velvet curtain, dragging your gloved hand along your thigh, before completely stepping out and slowly taking the lace gloves off, trailing them along your body in a similar fashion that a lover’s hands would. It made Eddie jealous yet there wasn’t anything to be jealous of. They were just a silk fabric after all, not the hands of a patron, a lover, or any man worthy of your time. You made your way up to an empty chair in the front, swinging your legs over it and enacting shoving your gloves in someone’s mouth before harshly pushing away and walking back to the stage, dropping slowly to your knees, spreading your legs out, then tucking them under and rolling, pulling the strings off your robe, allowing it to drop. Another 180° turn and you got up, ass high in the air, exposing your behind, covered in nothing but a lace thong and garter belt, the straps digging into the fat of your ass.

Eddie did not falter in his performance despite his mouth running as dry as the Sahara Desert. His tongue felt heavy, like sand had pooled itself up into his throat and no amount of water could cure this thirst. Of course it wouldn’t for it wasn’t what he was thirsting after, no, his need could only be quenched by something unattainable, something so far out of reach that he would find himself hallucinating before he could even feel a drop of relief on his tongue.

Your exhibition continued on and it seemed your father was happy with the performance to come, and even more so with the confidence the musicians exhumed. Ever since he brought that Munson man on it seemed that everyone was on their best game — it was undeniable — it was a solid choice and he would hope to not regret it. After your little practice you headed backstage to cool off and get ready for the night show, thinking you might be able to get some food and a drink in before the patrons would come in, after all, you needed something of substance. Nerves began to overtake your body, tonight was an important night, Friday nights usually were. The beginning of bender weekends where folks of all kinds of coloured backgrounds would come witness your performances before being invited to perform some of their own gigs. It was more or less an open mic night after your introductory performance — start the night off with a bang and encourage other performers to saunter up into the spotlight. If the music moved you enough you’d often come in for another little dance or two, practically flirting with the music, that’s when the real party started. The beatnicks would always bring a little powder or grass and in combination with the rye your father managed to get his hands on after the prohibition the weekends were a sure fire sock hop.

You slipped your black robe on and pocketed your metal cigarette case before stepping out, door closing softly behind you, the dim light bathing you in a warm glow. You inhale deeply before opting to pull out and light the thin tube of tobacco. You wished deeply that you were taught to roll your own, but that wasn’t very lady-like as your father put it, a phrase you grew to resent over time. You didn’t get very far in your search for sustenance before you bumped into someone’s chest.

“Oh, pardon me!” You exclaimed in surprise, smoke wafting around you. As soon as your eyes made contact with the body, eyes trailing up to meet the stranger’s figure, your mouth ran dry and not from the cigarettes you were smoking. “Oh, Eddie, please excuse me, I didn’t mean to barrel into you.” An unknown heat crept up to your cheeks, it wasn’t embarrassment, no, it was something foreign to you.

“No need to apologise, darling,” He exhaled, a glazed look overtaking his big brown eyes, “I actually wanted to come give you this.” He held out his hands, long fingers curling around a plate of toast, a bowl of roasted tomato soup sitting on top, balancing delicately, steaming and ready to be downed. “Your father he uh, he thought he should bring it over but I wanted to tell you to break a leg. You’re one of the best performers I’ve had the pleasure to work with and it’s not likely I’ll be able to get many words in after tonight.” A nod was sent his way before you reached out for the plate, dainty and warm hands wrapping around the porcelain. It wasn’t lost on either of you that you made contact with the calloused and slightly worn skin of the musician. If you were being honest, you took this opportunity as an excuse to confirm the wave that rushed through you at his touch, to confirm it wasn’t a fluke or just a figment of either of your imaginations. Your heart rate spiked dramatically as a smile reached his face, dimples inset in his cheeks, the corners of his eyes crinkling with little crow’s feet. The moment gave away just how much he smiled, a happiness that made a permanent reminder in his features, one that you were jealous of — it’s not that you weren’t happy per se, it’s just that your life wasn’t all that it was chalked up to be.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You whispered his name as if it was sacred, a mantra that you could pray over - an idol to worship in pure sin. He was a temptation sent by the devil himself and yet he was angelic in his being. He exuded a light that rarely captured a being, a light so bright that it caught your attention and commanded it. He was the false idol you dropped to your knees for, dancing to the rhythm he set, and he was none the wiser.

“It’s not a problem, sweetheart.” He offered you a gentle nod before his smile dropped. He shouldn’t have even offered to bring you your meal.What if your father were to catch on to his infatuation? He didn’t even really know you and that was the way it should stay no matter how much you commanded his attention even from across the room. Eddie was sure that he’d be able to pick you out of a crowd with one glance but he shouldn’t be able to — this is something he had to put a stop to if he was being truthful with himself, with you both. He didn’t want to cause problems for you, job honestly be damned. If losing his job meant that he might get a shot with you, who was he to stay at this club? Sure it was a club on 52nd and conveniently close to his apartment, but he’d perform down in Greenwich Village- no, no. He had to snap himself out of his.

“Hey, uh, Eddie, do you care to join me?” You boldly asked, moving your body aside and starting to open your dressing room door. “I don’t really favour eating alone.” It was a bold move on your part, and you saw him stiffen up. This could be dangerous for you both if your father were to find out about it and he didn’t want to put you in any sort of position. An expression of hesitation painted itself across his features, sucking his bottom lip in, eyes darting from side to side anxiously as if he were being watched.

“Look, uh… I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Best keep this professional and all. You wouldn’t want to upset your daddy, and I have a contract to fulfill. You understand, don’t you?” He shifted uncertainly. He didn’t want to do this but it was needed, part of you understanding but a deeper part of you feeling your heart plummet. It felt drenched in ice water, weighted down and dragged to the coldest depths of the ocean.

“Of course,” you let you, tone shifting to something hollow and detached, “thank you, Mr. Munson.” You grabbed the plate from him, opening the door to your dressing room and slipping inside without sparing him so much as another look. As you closed the door you thought you heard a quiet hiss of ‘way to go Munson’ before footsteps backed away from your door. You allowed the plate and bowl to clatter against your dressing room vanity, not willing to look at the food your father must have provided you with. Bile rises in your throat at the rejection - it wasn’t something you were used to from strangers and certainly not the club regulars, it something you were more used to from those closest to you, but Eddie wasn’t close to you — he wasn’t a club regular either — and yet somehow this stung worse than the rejection your mother offered you time after time or the rejection of any suitor that your father would impose. Suddenly this sadness shifted to something entirely different, an anger that you didn’t know you harboured. You stood quickly, making a last minute costume change before ripping your dressing room door open and heading down to the bar for a pre show drink.

Kip, the new part time busboy and bartender, was the one serving drinks, he was young with a shock of freckles across his high cheekbones, moussey red hair sat perfectly coiffed on top of his head. He wasn’t what you’d call particularly handsome but he was someone most women thought was easy on the eyes but he wasn’t Eddie. You called him over and ordered a Giblet, asking him to make it extra strong for you and he did so with pleasure, showing off his skills. He served it to you in a gold rimmed coupe and delicately placed it on a black napkin. You barely paid him any mind as you took the stem of the glass with your manicured hands and brought the coupe to your lips. You sipped it, too distracted by the way that the club patrons came and went like clockwork. A few would sit at their usual tables, moving when they found their friends, some would stay for a drink and leave, but within 30 minutes the show goers and beatniks were there to stay and relish in the show that was about to be put on. Cigarette smoke filled the air with a cloudy grey hue, creating a heavy set mood, a mood filled with want — there was an undeniable underlying energy, an antsy one at that.

Slowly you finished your drink, wiping the last few drops off your bottom lip with the rough pad of your thumb, a streak of red being left on it after your lipstick. I’ll have to reapply it, you think to yourself about the waxy substance. So with a few long strides you leave your bar stool and head over to grab your lipstick from your dressing room, hurrying so as to not be late to start your show. You were never late, you were always on queue, allowing the musicians to count you in with a four bar intro before the song flowed into a more suggestive beat. Tonight was no exception, however; plans had changed for your little number. If it was seductive before it was downright filthy now. A not so coy plan to get Eddie to notice you, to pay him back for the embarrassment of not having dinner with you. You just wanted to be kind, you weren’t expecting much more from him — you knew your dad might not see it that way, and of course you didn’t want to risk the man’s job, but a selfish part of you wanted to get to know him. The flirting between you was obvious despite the few interactions you’ve both had, and the coldness that Eddie exuded after your extended invitation was a little bit strange, as if he was trying to hold back on something.

As soon as the lights went down in the bar, hushed whispers fell across the crowd, a few abrasive and high whistles traveled through the air but found themselves landing on deaf ears. You cared for nobody’s opinions or cat calls, you only cared to perform. It gave you a certain thrill to be up on stage under the spotlights, and so when the anacrusis and fours following bars queued you in. Your outfit change took not only your father but the musicians by surprise as well. It was a lot more revealing than you had originally planned. A black lace bra adorned your chest, with a black suspender belt hugging your waist just right. You abandoned your corset completely and wore a sheer robe over your costume. You left nothing to the imagination with your sheet thong, the suspender belt holding your stockings up, digging into the meat of your thighs. Your stilettos accentuated the length of your legs, creating the illusion that you were taller than you realistically were and this fed particularly well into when you’d bend over.

As you emerged onto the scene, you feigned modesty, one leg out the curtain while running your hand delicately along the soft skin. As you stepped out holding a feathered fan in a satin gloved hand you peaked your wide eyes over the top, raising your shoulder gently and throwing an innocent glance towards the patrons of the front row. You fanned yourself as you made your way up to the Victorian style chair in the middle of the scene and you straddled it, closing your fan and tossing it towards the crowd while they cheered. In that moment you dropped your robe, revealing the lack of clothing that adorned your body. With a backbend your hair dropped, breasts nearly spilling from your bra, you sank lower and lower before pulling yourself back up slowly. Someone threw their tie to you on stage and you made good use of it, picking it up and running it down your back and across the tender flesh of your ass. You leaned into it suggestively, swinging your hips from side to side much like the pendulum of an old grandfather clock. Eyes were locked onto your movements, men left drooling over your sultry new routine, but you had yet to capture the attention of a certain musician. You upped your game a little more at this realisation, swinging the chair closer to the piano bench and hoisting your leg up on it, you twirled the tie before standing up on the chair and tipping it back with a foot on the backrest. You gently landed on the piano, rolling your back across it, legs high in the air before resting on its surface, stomach down, the tie being gently placed around Eddie's neck.

It was just then that he dared look up at you and a heat overtook his body, crawling its way, unbearably, to his neck. He had nearly slipped up on the piece that he had been preparing for weeks, initially planning just to play it at some other jazz club off of 6th, but the opportunity here lended itself nicely. He slurred the notes together seamlessly, not tipping your father off, nor the poor men in the front row who he thought were more deserving of your attention — especially if you were working for tips. That didn’t seem to matter anymore, not after you rolled off the shiny black piano top and strode across the stage, making time to roll, tumble, and lift your hips to meet nothing but the empty air, making a show of getting up, ass high in the air.

Your little performance continued on with a few lap dances in between, eyes locked onto Eddie as you did so, sending him a small wink when he would look up from the black and white keys that his fingers expertly worked. He knew what he was doing just as well as a mechanic knows his well oiled machines. His eyes left the keys and yet he continued playing, fingers having deftly memorised each position. As the last note rang out, Eddie’s last shallow breath left his lips before he hurriedly excused himself. You, however, waited until the lights went out before slipping behind the velvet curtain, ready to change into a more comfortable dress for the rest of the evening. You wouldn’t be joining in any more dances unless it was some jive or swing, you needed a quicker pace to get rid of the adrenaline that coursed its way through your veins.

There was an anxiety that clouded you all of a sudden, what if you’d gone too far? After all, you didn’t know Eddie, just that he seemed to have captured your attention the second he stepped foot into the room. You knew his smile was infectious and that whatever he was making you feel was not something that usually overtook you, and never this strongly.

As soon as you shoved the second set of curtains aside you opted to make your way down the winding hall and to your dressing room. The lights were too hot, too many eyes were on you tonight and frankly you needed a minute to catch your breath. Nothing could have prepared you for the gruff pair of unwelcome hands shoving you up against the cool béton of the adjacent wall. After the initial shock wore off your watering eyes landed on the source of such aggression — the shock of red hair gave it away, a darkness painted across his features, a want filled with lust and rage. He might as well have been seeing an acrid crimson across his vision with the expression he wore.

“How about you be a doll and help a man out, peach.” He spat out the nickname, venom dripping black from his tongue. “You got us all riled up for nuttin’, and no relief either.” His breath felt hot, stale and bitter notes hung onto it like one might hold onto bitter memories, hoping that one day they might resolve or taste sweeter than they do. Like wanting to turn mead back into honey, it wouldn’t happen.

You shoved him away as best you could, pushing against his shoulders but his hand came around your neck, an unwelcome sensation as best, suffocating at worst. It stole the little breath you had left in your lungs as you choked out a muffled cry for help. Meek, trying, yet your words weren’t strong enough and eventually began to get caught in your throat. You brought your knee up to hit him in the family jewels, hoping that you’d render them invaluable but before you could feel the impact of your knee against the soft and unprotected parts of the man before you, a violent pull pried the redheaded busboy off of you.

“Don’t you fucking lay your hands on them ever again.” The deep voice rumbled out with such ferocity that you almost didn’t recognise it. “Why don’t you shag* before I lose my cool, you sunofabitch?” You looked up to see a man possessed, his voice wildly different from the warm tones he spoke to you in, the one that had been a little more than hot and cold with you, one that soothed you like thyme and honey soothed a sore throat. The one that you decided in that moment you would want protecting you so long as you had the privilege of it.

*Shag: To get lost, to leave

a/n: hey sorry if the formatting is weird or off, I’m on mobile as my computer ate shit before I got around to writing/posting this. Anyway, here it is, longer than the first part,and hopefully they just keep getting longer from here on out. Thanks for reading!!

tag list: @ali-r3n @cryingglightningg

Let me know if you wanna be added or removed from the tag list! :)

Part I

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #all for show #1950s #1960s #stranger things #New York #musician!eddie #showgirl!reader #eddie x reader #music #musician!eddiexreader #heartbreak #this story is based on a haunting I heard about in a podcast lmao

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fengxun · 2 months

Text

THE MOON AND HER STARS – MIKAZUKI MUNECHIKA X READER

Nothing you do would ever compare to what he does for you, but you hoped that your love would be enough.

CONTENT.⠀gender-neutral reader, emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of blood and injury, ambiguous relationship (can be read as either romantic or [queer]platonic, no labels are used) — ~1,3k words

NOTES.⠀selfship coded but who cares. woe jiji be upon ye

divider by cafekitsune | part of us, in the sands of time ficlet collection

For someone who only has to stay on the sidelines, you agitate yourself just as much as someone on the battlefield would. It isn’t that you don’t trust your touken danshi—you do—but with the recent wave of invasions, you can’t help but worry about them all. What if they get gravely injured? What if they break?

Your worries came true like they had been prophesied. The recon team returned with a gravely injured Sayo, bloodied and bruised and on the verge of breaking. Yagen had swiftly taken the boy to the infirmary while Mutsunokami went ahead to get Souza. And you—you stood there with your heart in your throat, watching as your subjects limp and trudge in the same direction Yagen went. The mission had been a success, but at what cost? They could have died, and if they had, you’d fail your role as their master. You’d fail them.

You already had.

You were burning with guilt and sorrow. You sent them into a catastrophe, stained your hands with their blood and failed your mission. You failed them. You needed space to think of a defence, of how to do better as their master so this won’t happen again. You can’t bear the thought of losing any one of them.

You’ve locked yourself in your quarters since the recon team returned. The Citadel can survive without you for a day or two. They will. You wonder if that is the way it should be. You’d passed on the easier duties to your right-hand man, Hasebe, leaving him in charge until you were ready to come back.

You knew the half-hearted lie you told him was far from convincing. He’d seen your tears and puffy eyes. You weren’t under the weather like you said, but Hasebe would rather die than force you to talk about what you weren’t ready to, so he relented. Someone was bound to see through you somehow, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon. He must’ve told Mikazuki about you.

He had been the last person you wanted to know about your current state. Just like he disliked making you worry about him, you hated making him feel anything negative at all, but it’s just in his nature to be so doting to you. It’s one of the many reasons why you love him.

“There you are,” Mikazuki said as he stepped into your room. Quiet footfalls padded closer to you before he knelt by your futon where you surrounded yourself with scattered open books and journals. You didn’t know if studying would help you at all—it won’t take back what it did today. You hoped it could at least make you more vigilant and less careless. You briefly looked at him, so he continued, “I’ve been worried about you all day.”

Without much of a response save for a quiet, dejected noise, you shifted to lay your head on his lap. Acting by pure muscle memory, he cupped the side of your face with his hand and brushed your tears away with his thumb. His hand was warm. He was warm, and you curled into him, letting yourself indulge in his presence. The scent of green tea lingered on his clothes, dousing you in comfort as the tension slowly faded away from your system. It lulled you enough to stop your sniffling.

“Is he…” you trailed off. Alright? Clearly, Sayo wasn’t. Fine? In a state like that, fine was the farthest thing from what he was. Why were you asking things you knew the answer to?

He didn’t seem to mind. That much you could tell from the way he reached out to lace your fingers together like he always does when you lay together. Your grip on him tightened just the slightest.

“He will be alright,” he answered. “Souza is keeping a close eye on him. The other touken danshi have also been fully repaired. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

Relief washed over your nerves hearing about them. You sighed, eyes falling to the details on the fabrics he wore. You didn’t think you could handle looking at him—one of the people you let down.

As if he could read your mind (he probably could; Mikazuki Munechika is more observant than he lets on), he reassured you once again. “We follow your instructions out of our will. It wasn’t your fault or theirs. How many times have I returned to you with just as many bandages?”

Despite the teasing lilt in his voice, a show of just how lax and carefree he was, you still couldn’t help but frown in response. You wanted to argue that just because he had been through a fair share of pain and bloodshed, it didn’t mean that you were used to it. The looming threat of those seeking to rewrite history to their desires wasn’t something you could easily ignore. It was your purpose, your duty, and if you couldn’t do it right, then you might as well be nothing.

“Master,” he called, chuckling when you grumbled out I told you not to call me that right away. “You could never fail me. I’m sure the others think the same thing.”

“But—”

He shushed you gently. You glanced up at him, brows furrowed as you struggled to hold back tears again. You could feel your bottom lip quivering from you instinctively trying to stop the sobs from leaving you. How can he still be so kind to you when you’ve let others’ blood stain his hands? When his blood could be—has been—on your hands?

“Come,” Mikazuki said, helping you back on your feet. Your limbs felt heavy, exhausted. “Let’s get you some fresh air.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to protest against him, so you followed him out to the balcony where you sat next to him. You idly swung your legs over the edge and stared down at your reflection in the pond. The water was crystal clear, save for fallen petals drifting on its surface, and it glinted with the light of the moon. Across the pond, you could see the lush garden that some of the touken danshi loved tending to. The breeze flew past you, bringing forth the refreshing aroma from the flowers in full bloom.

His humming caught your attention, your gaze drifting to him in response and your breath momentarily taken away. Mikazuki looked ethereal with the starry night behind him like he was right where he belonged—a radiant presence, illuminating the dark corners of your life. You felt yourself soften as you let yourself fall against him, your head resting on his shoulders as you intertwined your hands together once again.

He called your name, his voice tender and his touch gentle. You could practically hear the smile in his voice as he said it. He knew how hard it was to open up (he was guilty of it himself) and he never pressured you to tell him what was on your mind. Even after all this time, he remained kind and loving. You never understood how he could do it, but you knew that you wouldn’t ever take it for granted.

Warmth blossomed in your chest as you watched him beside you in the water. His hair swayed with the wind and he looked like he was glowing, fitting for someone of his name. You felt like you could burst into tears all over again. Here he was, a person who could heal you just by being alone here with you. He made you smile whenever you needed it the most, much like tonight. You didn’t know how you could ever return his generosity. Nothing you do would ever compare to what he does for you, but you hoped that your love would be enough.

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you kept looking downward, afraid that he’d see how flustered you were by him. Still, the words left your lips with ease, laced with sweetness and adoration, “I’d give you the world if I could.”

(And if you’d just glanced over to him, you’d know he was thinking the same of you. To him, you were more than just his sun, moon, and stars. You were the universe herself, and for you, he would do anything to keep you safe and at ease.)

#all #mikazuki munechika x reader #mikazuki x reader #tkrb x reader #touken ranbu x reader #this is kind of niche compared to the usual stuff i write for LOL enjoy<3

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