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#i have been sort of in and out of being active here for some things and i can’t thank y’all enough for the tags + being so patient with me!
soaringwide · 2 days
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Pick a Card: Month Ahead #01
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This was written for May 2024 but with the intention to be timeless, so even if you find it later there might be a message for your next month.
We'll look into your energy coming into the month, but also what will be the theme/area of focus and what you'll need to pay attention to, as well as the surprises that might come your way.
It's my first time doing a pick a card like this so we'll see how it turns out! I love doing those privately though.
As always, be mindful that this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not be 100% fitting for your situation, and that it's based on the energy you hold at the moment of selecting a pile that draws you to one of them.
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PILE 1
Cards: Page of Cups, Queen of Wands, 9 of Cups, Ace of Swords, the Emperor, Strength, 5 of Cups, the Moon, Queen of Cups, 5 of Wands rx, Ace of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, Page of Wands
For your energy coming into the month, I see you being in a state of being in tune with your heart, opening up to the possible rise of a new romantic connection. I get the sense that you're cautiously optimistic about it, because while you feel confident within yourself and in a happy place, you're also aware that it's too early to tell. But you're not letting that deter you and you're fully embracing your own power, feeling good about yourself and where you're at while looking ahead hopefully and waiting for an opportunity to move forward. I think for you the process of the month ahead has already started a bit before the start of the new month and you're continuing the process.
When it comes to the theme of the month, I see the importance of putting your emotional fulfillment at the forefront and being actively working towards it. There is a need to bring clarity about the situation, clarity that will bring you contentment and tie loose ends. You will be determined to work through that with willpower and determination by taking the lead and stop wasting time around. I think you are seeing the path forward for this connection and you're determined to go for it and not let it escape. You got four cards here and they all represent a different element, which I interpret as the fact that harmony within and for yourself will be a big theme as well. Between your feelings, your thoughts and your actions, everything will be grounded in your authentic self.
I think these past few months have not always been great for you and you're determined to leave that behind and enter the new chapter of your life. You've learned all you had to about your old ways and now you're ready for a change. So for the goal you'll have in mind, you will be focused on not falling back into the same patterns of thoughts and behaviors and keep moving forward with determination and a sense that you can't go back to what you once where.
The challenge that will arise will come from your own psyche. I get the sense that you still have unresolved issues within yourself that may cloud this great picture, so you will have to be extra careful about not letting your fears and doubts making you spiral down and do or say something that doesn't align with your truth. You might go through times where you feel irritable or anxious and you may take that as a proof that things are going to shit again and you might want to run away, but it's an illusion. It just means that you still have some inner clutter to sort out. Be careful about not shutting yourself off from others as a reaction to your inner pain.
When it comes to a surprise coming your way, it seems there will be an event that will create a shift from a confusing and chaotic situation to one of open communication of feelings, laying out a more positive base for the future. I'm getting the sense that this is what the theme of the month was referring to, and while you seek it, you don't really know how it will unfold so it will still be a surprise when it happens. When this even happens, be as open and honest as possible in order to clear out any possible miscommunication, be kind and listen to what the other person has to say with empathy and love at heart.
What you'll have gained by the end of the month will be a stable and solid start towards the future. Things are blossoming but you'll have learned that there's no point rushing into anything and that things come when the time is right. You'll be set to build on that for the months to come. Maybe the start of a new commitment although things are in their very early stage.
As a final advice, it is important not to shut yourself off from your emotions and not to stay stuck in your old ways of remaining passive. Stay open and assertive, go after what you want and I get the strong message that you need to communicate openly about everything that isn't clear in this connection. Don't just wait around for things to fall onto your lap. Be passionate and enthusiastic and again be clear about your intentions. Also, you're learning something new and important so be gentle with yourself if you don't get everything perfectly from the get go, what matters is to do your best.
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PILE 2
Cards: King of Wands, Queen of Cups, the Lovers rx, 8 of Cups rx, Queen of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, Memento Mori, 10 of Swords, King of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, 2 of Wands, The Chariot, Knight of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, 3 of Cups rx, 7 of Cups
For the general vibe of this pile, it feels a bit overwhelming like there is so much to pay attention to that you are somewhat disconnected from yourself as a result, because your feelings are so confusing that you get lost in them. There are A LOT of court cards, which may mean that there is a situation that brings the intervention of a lot of different people, perhaps it will be busy at work, or something involving family, creating a very messy situation where everyone has something to say and you can't hear yourself anymore. Really there is so much external influences here that I had a hard time picking up on YOU until the end of the reading.
For the energy you have coming into the month, I really think you are in a committed relationship with someone (and if not it's not your pile), but there is a big disharmony here. It seems one of you is on the way out of the relationship (represented by the King of Wands), and the fact that the Queen of Wands shows as a challenge later in the reading, I'm getting that this person already has someone in mind. It seems you are longing for the way the relationship used to be and it feels over, but you are having difficulties moving on right now. It's also possible you're just longing for the idea of Love altogether and wishing you could drop everything you have right now to run towards it. There is a choice to be made but right now at the end of the month, you are not making a move one way or another.
The theme of the month to come for you pile 2 makes a lot of sense considering what I already wrote. You will have to focus on your own clarity and get grounded in yourself, trying to find stillness in the chaos that surrounds you in order to get the answers you need, based on your own guidance. I'm also getting that you feel resistant to change and the call of life, and that you may feel a bit dead inside and numb as a result. There is a need to find excitement for the miracle of life again which has been lost due to your complex situation. ''The meaning is in the Middle'' is what's written on the card and writing down in case it speaks to anyone.
For what you'll consciously focus on this month, I'm getting just like...trying not to break down completely and at the same time keeping up with your demanding job and practical life issues. Perhaps this impending breakup is causing financial stress and you don't know how things will turn out. So your goal will be navigating that in order to stay on top of things both mentally and professionally/financially.
Okay this is where it finally clicks because I was confused whether you where the one with the third party of the one who is perhaps cheated on. With the King of Pentacles longingly looking at the Queen of Wands (the third party I mentioned before - don't take gender into account though) standing next to him, I'm getting that YOU are wondering how to welcome this new passionate connection into your busy life and how to make it fit from a practical standpoint with your current relationship. The Queen seems to be both a challenge and an opportunity, I don't necessarily get that this Queen is a bad omen, it's just a difficult situation that require a choice on your part.
For the unexpected thing that will happen this month, I'm not getting a particular event but rather, how it will change the course of what you're doing. This surprise will force you to weight your options and start pursuing what you desire, getting out of that rut you are in. There will be progress moving forward as I don't think you'll be left indecisive for too long. There is a sense of urgency here, whether it's perceived or true, you will feel it deeply and it will push you into actions. You will be surprised by how determined you suddenly feel after the indecision of the past.
What will be gained after the month ends is a newfound stability as you'll have regained your footing. From that point in the spread it's like things have cleared up a bit and there's open space. There is a new beginning on the horizon but unlike the urgency that led you to that point, there is now the need to take things slow and build strong foundations.
The advice you got was that, well, it's time to choose what you want to do with this third party. You can't keep holding things like that without making a choice. You might also need to distance yourself from bad influences around you like friends or family and again focus on yourself. The second advice is about restoring some type of balance between giving and taking. It seems someone has or will give you something and you'll have to give something in return so that not to break the flow of the relationship.
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PILE 3
Cards: 4 of Swords rx, 8 of Pentacles, 4 of pentacles, 3 of Pentacles rx, 7 of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, 9 of Wands, Justice, 4 of Wands, King of Cups, the Moon, 9 of Swords, Temperance, 6 of Swords, the Fool
For your energy coming into the month, I see that you might have been feeling burnt out for a while now due to over-exhausting yourself with work or your studies, something you've put a lot of care and energy into in any case. You feel stagnant and somewhat demotivated and the whole thing is weighting on you. It's like you've put so much effort into working on this issue that you feel totally depleted emotionally. However, you can't seem to let go a bit in order to get things flowing again and you remain stuck, fearing everything is going to go to waste if you relax a bit.
The theme of this month will be to find your support system and reach out for help in order to get you to find new solutions to your issue. Not everything can be done alone. Furthermore, not every project can be rushed through all the time, sometimes you have to let it rest for a bit and let it grow under the surface of the soil. You will find great benefit from focusing on your own enjoyment and pleasure for a change in order to find a new perspective on your situation.
Despite that, it seems your mind will still be set on proving yourself this month. It's like, you feel burnt out and stagnant, and instead of getting the cue that you need to slow down a bit, you look at others and wonder why you can't hustle like them. Basically you're sensing there is an issue but you're trying to solve it in a toxic way by comparing yourself to others and feeling threatened by their success, triggering your self esteem issues.
The challenged you will have to face have to do with accepting to restore the balance in your life and take a break to have a bit of fun. Sounds like a false problem but it seems it's quite difficult for you to do at the moment because you're so focused on your tasks. It's a critical point though because if you don't cut off the toxic behaviors that are burying you into the ground, you will face the repercussions of your own non-action further down the line. You might have a hard time socializing because your heart is not there and you might feel left out, even though it would do you good to get a change of scenery and get out of your cave for a while.
For the unexpected thing that will happen this month, this will have to do with some type of emotional reconnection that will lead to more balance. It's very possible that it'll be uncomfortable at first as all the negative feelings you've been pushing under the rug all this time are resurfacing, but if you manage to stay afloat you will find a greater sense of mastery over them. I'm not getting anything precise as to what's gonna happen, but it will have to do with you being forced to take the blindfolds off and finally pay attention to your mental health. This might be the inner crisis you need to get back in a better shape.
What will have been gained by the end of the month has to do with leaving behind this way of doing and thinking you were holding onto at the beginning of the month. You will finally be able to get moving again, even if it will feel somewhat bitter and hard to do, remember it's for the better because you could not keep going on like you did.
The advice for you to help you navigate things is to not take everything so seriously all the time. Don't focus too much on what's not working or what you could do better or even on what you can't control, but try to find hope and the sense that a new beginning is at hand if only you open yourself up to it. Whoever is sending you this advice really encourages you to enjoy the little things and find your youthful spirit again. Things won't stay bleak forever so the best thing you can do is let yourself move along the stream.
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thedeadthree · 11 months
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🥀! the oc page is here !
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thatbadadvice · 7 months
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Dear Advisor,
I tend to be a very reserved and shy person so making friends is super hard. Recently I’ve been wanting to socialize more , but I genuinely don’t know how. Is there any advice that you have that can make me look more approachable and not be scared to talk to people. I’m so stressed about being alone and not having any friends, but I just find it so hard to go up to people and make a conversation. I tried once but it became super awkward. I just really need good advice from someone on how to approach a person and continue a conversation.
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Dear Awkward Anonymous,
It would be so easy to get into a whole deep let's-skeetshoot-therapy-on-the-internet session and try to help a total stranger unpack all of the GA-FUCKING-ZILLION ways in which social awkwardness shows up in a person's life. It seems easy, and it even seems meaningful and worthwhile, but to do so I would have to presume a bunch about your life, and make a bunch of assumptions about the ways in which my own experiences maybe/probably track with yours, and it would be a whole big wank-fest, and frankly ... it would be awkward. I'd be like you, standing there at the party, hoping that what I'm saying resonates or lands or even vaguely tracks with anything a stranger has ever known or experienced, presuming (probably rightly!) that it doesn't, and then flailing and blaming myself when I didn't emerge from the interaction with all the world's gold stars.
So here's what: stop talking to other people as a primary social occupation. Going up to people and just talking is fucking terrifying. The Bad Advisor says this as a Certified Extrovert™ who rarely shuts the fuck up.
Instead, find a thing to do with other people that involves some sort of task or goal or activity. Talk about the thing you're doing together, when you're doing it. If it feels okay, maybe introduce one or two of your own relatable-to-the-activity experiences in the process. See who picks up on it. Ask the people who pick up on it genuinely interested questions in response. This is what we awkward people call: engineering a conversation. It is the way, I am told, humans make connections with other humans. I have seen it work in my own life.
Depending on where you live and your ability level and skill set, I bet you have some options! You could seek out an open board game night, pub quiz session, knitting/quilting circle, or mutual aid meetup that's looking for volunteers. Especially look for social activities with strangers that involve a dedicated, pre-prescribed activity (such as a hiking or mall-walking group, stuffing envelopes for a political candidate or cause you care about, planting trees at your local park, or tasting tea/wine/beer/etc.). (Somebody is going to say join a ballroom dancing club or suchlike; I am personally terrified of this, but if you have a higher tolerance for strangers touching you and fewer than two left feet: it's literally an option. Line-dancing, on the other hand ... absofuckinglutely.)
Even if what's available in your area isn't your precise and specific interest, it might be worthwhile to check out something you are decidedly meh about -- you might not be the only meh person there. You can bond over shit that's boring or shitty with other people who find it boring or shitty! Some of my best friends, arguably my very best friends, came out of experiences we mutually loathed or found at least moderately and mutually miserable.
Consider especially finding an activity where you yourself are the manager of operations and/or have a designated task to take care of that is unique to your position! This doesn't have to be complicated or skill-dependent; can you become a voter registrar in your area? Well, bam! You've got paperwork people have to fill out and a good reason to jibber-jabber with folks who have to ask you the questions. Other ideas: join your local neighborhood association board, become a notary public, or see if your local pet rescue is looking for intake line volunteers. Do you have a trustworthy, especially outgoing friend who might agree to play "social glue" for you a couple of times at their activity-centric events? Make it explicit! Ask them if they'll play friendly wing-person for you at their D&D game, fantasy sports league, or some such.
Alternately: Do you have a unique and fun and shareable skillset you can share with others? Are you pretty good at drawing, programming? Simply a font of endless Merlin or NFL or Real Housewives knowledge? You might start a local Discord or other online social group to discuss and share your interests, then move it to the real world in a few weeks once folks get comfortable. You get the idea.
Most of all: Look for stuff that has more-than-just-talking opportunities available outside the designated group jam for you to maintain connections. Perhaps a group chat, a Discord, a Slack, what-have-you, where you can take more time to consider and draft your responses and posts? Connections with humans get made a thousand ways, and talking raw-dog with strangers is but one.
It takes a true social unicorn to be simply good at talking and only talking to other people. There are some of these one-horned wonders out there, to be sure — but let me assure you that the vast majority of folks want to be accepted and seen just as much as you do, and they're staring at the ceiling at night thinking just as much (more, probably) about all the weird, wonky shit they themselves threw at you than they are anything you ever said to them.
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doufudanshi · 26 days
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ON GHOSTS AND DEMONS: Wei Wuxian's "demonic" cultivation?
There are a few big misconceptions I have repeatedly seen in English-speaking fandom about things that are fundamental to the story of MDZS. One of them is this—
Wei Wuxian is not a demonic cultivator.
To prove this, let's take a deep dive into the original Chinese text of MDZS.
(Adapted from my original gdoc posted on Twitter on May 27, 2022. All translations my own unless otherwise stated.)
Demon vs. ghost
Let's start from the very basics. In addition to orthodox cultivation using spiritual energy and a golden core, there are two other forms of cultivation that are mentioned in the novel:
魔道 (mó dào), or “demon cultivation/path.”
鬼道 (guǐ dào), or “ghost cultivation/path.”
To be clear, 魔 mo "demons" and 鬼 gui "ghosts" (and thus their respective cultivation/paths) are not interchangeable because of the in-universe worldbuilding within MDZS. Using the characters in the term 妖魔鬼怪 "monsters," MXTX created four distinct categories of beings, each of which has a strict definition in the novel. From chapter 4 (jjwxc ch 13):
妖者非人之活物所化; 魔者生人所化; 鬼者死者所化; 怪者非人之死物所化。 Yāo (妖) are transformed from non-human living beings; mó (魔) are transformed from living people; guǐ (鬼) are transformed from the deceased; guài (怪) are transformed from non-human dead beings.
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And of course, WWX hoards all the ghost-type pokemon monsters at the Phoenix Mountain tournament, and he only exerts control over corpses, spirits, and the like (aka people who have already died). (As opposed to Xue Yang, who appears to have been actively trying to make 魔 "demons" out of living people with those "living corpses" of his, perhaps.) (And, ironically, in order to avoid showing necromancy / zombies on screen, CQL technically does show WWX practicing demon cultivation because everyone is "supposedly alive" even when they're corpses? Which is, funnily enough, far worse morally in the MDZS universe, lol.)
So, intuitively at least, we know that WWX must be practicing ghost cultivation—now let's look at some concrete examples from the book.
Running the numbers
1) 魔道 (mó dào) means “demon cultivation.” As such, it must use living humans.
魔道 appears one (1) time in the novel.
Yes, once. The only time it appears is in the term 魔道祖师 modao zushi, or the namesake of the novel, in chapter 2. This is a title the general public has given him through rumors:
魏无羡好歹也被人叫了这么多年无上邪尊啦、魔道祖师啦之类的称号,这种一看就知道不是什么好东西的阵法,他自然了如指掌。 Wei Wuxian wasn’t called titles like “The Evil Overlord,” “The Founder of Demon Cultivation,” and so on over the years by others for nothing—he knew these sorts of obviously shady formations like the back of his hand.
2) 鬼道 (guǐ dào) means “ghost cultivation.” As such, it must use dead humans. 
鬼道 appears 12 times in the novel.
Here is the first instance that 鬼道 appears, which I believe is the first time Wei Wuxian's method of cultivation is properly introduced. From chapter 3 (jjwxc ch 8):
蓝忘机 […] 对魏无羡修鬼道一事极不认可。 Lan Wangji […] had never approved of the fact that Wei Wuxian practiced ghost cultivation.
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Here's another quote from chapter 15 (jjwxc ch 71) for funsies:
蓝忘机看着他,似乎一眼就看出他只是随口敷衍,吸了一口气,道:“魏婴。” Lan Wangji looked at him as if he saw through his half-hearted bluff. He took in a breath, then said, “Wei Ying.” 他执拗地道:“鬼道损身,损心性。” He stubbornly continued, “Ghost cultivation harms one’s body, and harms one’s nature.”
3) 邪魔歪道 (xiemowaidao) means heretical path/immoral methods/evil practices/underhanded means/etc—e.g., lying, cheating, stealing, bribery, and so on.
It appears ~24 times in the novel.
I mention this last term because it is often used to refer to Wei Wuxian's cultivation, but as a pejorative. Every instance of 邪魔歪道 is said by or to quote someone looking down upon Wei Wuxian’s cultivation (Jin Zixun, Jin Ling, etc.) and referring to it derogatorily, whereas every instance of 鬼道 guidao/ghost dao is said by someone discussing it neutrally and/or factually (Lan Jingyi, Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian himself, random cultivators at discussion conferences, the narration, etc.). Here is a pertinent example with Jin Ling (derogatory) and Lan Jingyi (neutral) in chapter 9 (jjwxc ch 43):
金凌怒道:“是在谈论薛洋,我说的不对吗?薛洋干了什么?他是个禽兽不如的人渣,魏婴比他更让人恶心!什么叫‘不能一概而论’?这种邪魔歪道留在世上就是祸害,就是该统统都杀光,死光,灭绝!” “We are discussing Xue Yang,” Jin Ling said angrily. “Am I wrong? What did Xue Yang do? He’s scum that’s lower than a beast, and Wei Ying is even more disgusting than him! What do you mean ‘don’t make sweeping generalizations?’ As long as those practicing this kind of demoniac, heretical path are alive, they’ll continue to bring disaster. We should slaughter all of them, kill all of them, annihilate them once and for all!” 温宁动了动,魏无羡摆手示意他静止。只听蓝景仪也加入了,嚷道:“你发这么大火干什么?思追又没说魏无羡不该杀,他只是说修鬼道的也不一定全都是薛洋这种人,你有必要乱摔东西吗?那个我还没吃呢……” Wen Ning shuffled around. Wei Wuxian gestured at him to stay still, only to hear Lan Jingyi also cut in loudly, “Why are you getting so riled up? It’s not like Sizhui said Wei Wuxian shouldn’t have been killed. All he said was that people who practice ghost cultivation aren’t necessarily all like Xue Yang. Do you have to go around breaking things? I didn’t even get to eat any of that yet…”
Tl;dr—Wei Wuxian does not 修魔道 practice demon cultivation. When Wei Wuxian’s craft is discussed in a neutral and factual manner, it is referred to as 鬼道 ghost dao. 
In fact, Wei Wuxian’s imitators are also referred to explicitly as 鬼道修士 ghost cultivators.
魏无羡早就听说过,这些年来江澄到处抓疑似夺舍重生的鬼道修士,把这些人通通押回莲花坞严刑拷打。 Wei Wuxian had heard a while back that over the past few years, Jiang Cheng had gone around snatching any ghost cultivator suspected of being possessed or reborn, detaining them in Lotus Pier to interrogate them using torture.
So why the confusion?
Of course, there is the matter of the novel's title, which I will get into in a second. But the real issue is a matter of translation.
The idea that WWX uses "demonic cultivation" is a misconception in English-speaking fandom due to issues with the translation of terminology. Of note, EXR actually did translate 鬼道 guidao as "ghostly path" most of the time, though there were at least 3 instances of "demonic" and 1 instance of "dark," especially regarding the first few.
However, this misconception was perpetuated (and arguably worsened) by 7S's official translation, which not only mistranslated additional terms as "demonic cultivation/path" (at least in book 1), but also consistently mistranslated every instance of 鬼道 as "demonic cultivation/path."
So why is this book called 魔道祖师, commonly translated as "Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation?"
One possibility is one posed in Chinese-language meta online, which often cites that WWX himself is a sort of 魔 demon. While this may be true—after all, he can hear the voices of the dead—it doesn't quite explain the fact that the title sets him up to be the 祖师 or "founder."
My take is that this novel is very much concerned with hearsay vs. truth. This is one of the many monikers WWX is given by the public, who collectively view him as evil. (Also of note is that the non-cultivator public is not aware of all the nuances that cultivators learn re: distinctions between the 妖魔鬼怪 monsters.) In the quote from earlier, note that the first title we're given is actually 无上邪尊 “The Evil Overlord,” then 魔道祖师 "The Founder of Demon Cultivation." Like, what can that be other than MXTX telling us, "please take both of these with a HUGE grain of salt, lol."
(And not only the title, but the very first line—"魏无羡死了。" / "Wei Wuxian is dead."—is a lie.)
I think the title is genius, honestly. It intentionally makes readers come into the novel with preconceived notions that Wei Wuxian practices 魔道 demon cultivation and evil techniques—just like the public in the novel. What better way to tell a story warning about the dangers of how easy it is to fall for misinformation and jump to incorrect conclusions?
(Though, in our case, perhaps it worked a little too well.)
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triflesandparsnips · 6 months
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So I understand that there are Good Omens show fans who have never read Good Omens the book, and that makes me deeply sad because--
Like, there's so much depth to the story being told about humans and humanity and the choice between good and evil -- and how that's actually a false dichotomy whoooops -- WHILE ALSO not really being about Aziraphale and Crowley at all (who are, imo, basically there as embodiments of "Impressive Failures" for the purposes of Theme and also Plot).
BUT IF you want to know why I've shipped them since the book-- here's the moment it happened for wee teenage me:
Wednesday (before the end of the world)
So it's Warlock's birthday party. And there are all these children and security guards and also an angel doing magic tricks while a demon is disguised as a caterer. This bit is basically the same as the show, so hooray.
But as wee me understood the characters up to this point, they were still basically enemies who had been in the field together for way too long and knew each other's moves well enough for the same tempting/thwarting of one another to become kind of boring and repetitive and generally pointless-- particularly once they realized that they could, for instance, just live their (separate!) lives watching humans being weird (Crowley) and seeking various sensory stuff (Aziraphale) while doing the least work necessary to keep their respective bosses off their backs.
The Arrangement was borne not out of hiding a friendship or anything, but instead the realization that sometimes covering for one another would just... cut down on their total overall workload. They were, at best, employees of two different, competitive companies-- though in same kind of department, doing the same kind of work-- who discovered they liked to have lunch at the same deli and that their jobs were sometimes distressingly more similar than either was comfortable with.
SO ANYWAY. BACK TO THAT WEDNESDAY. They're not covering for one another with this whole Antichrist thing-- they're now actively collaborating, and they've acknowledged (mostly) that it's not to cut down on their individual workloads, but rather to preserve their identical-- but not shared (not yet)-- goals of Getting To Continue The Lives On Earth They've Grown To Enjoy.
But like-- still not friends. Not really.
Until Aziraphale fucks up a bit, Warlock accidentally gets hold of a security guard's weapon and starts waving it around, and:
Then someone threw some jelly at Warlock. The boy squeaked, and pulled the trigger of the gun. It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork. Aziraphale blinked. A thin stream of water squirted from the nozzle and soaked Crowley, who had been looking out the window, trying to see if there was a huge black dog in the garden. Aziraphale looked embarrassed. Then a cream cake hit him in the face.
My teenage brain exploded at this moment.
BECAUSE: there is no reason for Aziraphale to do that.
Work-wise: If he got shot, Crowley would get discorporated, but not die-- and anyway, it would happen in such a way that both of them could explain it away easily to their respective sides (and possibly even be commended for it!).
Collaboration-wise: If Crowley had been watching Aziraphale, and if he'd seen Aziraphale have the chance to change the gun but not do it-- then yeah, probably that would've been annoying enough to have warranted some chilly conversations once he came back topside, and therefore, Aziraphale choosing to save Crowley could've been a reasonable, logical choice to keep their working relationship on an even keel until they'd sorted out this Doomsday thing.
But Crowley was looking the other way.
Work-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and secret-collaboration-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and so it is, overall, really weird that Aziraphale saved him.
But his automatic reaction-- in a blink-- is to stop Crowley from getting shot. And he knows it's weird-- he feels embarrassed that his sudden, unthinking reaction is to save his "enemy".
And the final bit is just a couple paragraphs later:
With a gesture, Aziraphale turned the rest of the guns into water pistols as well, and walked out.
SO LOOK: He changed only the pistol about to shoot Crowley. His automatic reaction had nothing to do with saving a party full of humans, many of them children-- nothing to do with Heaven or Hell-- nothing to do with preserving the coworker he needs to stop Armageddon--
It was all to do with saving Crowley. Who may be the enemy, but he's Aziraphale's enemy. And another part of his life on Earth that he's doing all of this just to preserve.
Which may also be, for the first time, the moment he lets himself realize how important Crowley in particular is to him.
...and so anyway, that's how I started shipping these two immortal idiots, and one of many reasons why everyone should read the book.
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emdeerm · 6 months
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Past saves Present
Og fic ig
In some cultures, it is believed that children are able to remember bits of their past lives till the ages of 3-5.
For Danny, the opposite was true. He got his memories at exactly the second he turned 5.
And he had to promptly dodge the blade of the boy in front of him.
His brother, his mind supplied. His twin.
Danny stopped swinging his own sword, focusing on dodging and avoiding the fate of being a slashed pillow. His new/earned skills especially helped with that greatly as his head was seriously trying to re-kill him.
"I yield," he rasped as he jumped away from his brother and looked at their Mother. "My head hurts, Mother," he added pitifully.
His twin looked slightly concerned for a second, before schooling his face in a way Grandfather has been teaching them.
"Tch." But he did put away the blade before their Mother, said a word.
"Dynial, Damian, you are not to stop until you have received permission in the future."
The boys nodded. Mother took their hands and led them out of the private training ground back to their rooms.
Danny spent the rest of the day lying down, slightly feverish and miserable as his brain was processing and acclimating the new set of memories. Clockwork said it wouldn't be too bad. We'll, the clock bustard has been wrong. It fucking sucked.
His brother was hovering. Their Mother was always around, not letting anyone into their space. Ra's is being kept in the dark.
A peaceful rest was all he needed for his brain to finish sorting out new information. And Danny was stuck in a bit of a dilemma.
You see, Damian and Dynial love their Mother, strive to be the best Demon Twins, and see nothing wrong with their life so far.
Their hands are still clean.
Danny, on the other hand, has many MANY choice words for his current situation and one Clock Ghost.
You want to try reincarnation ONE time! No wonder others don't really do that.
-------
Their days continued like they did before he got his memory back. It wasn't hard to be Dynial when he actually was him.
The nights were filled with planning. And a personally assigned mission: get Damian to be interested in normal things.
Stars weren't much of a hit. Uncultured child.
Animals were a little intriguing.
Simple art and craft projects seemed to hit the spot.
Keeping their little meetings and activities hidden wasn't as hard as one would think. Mother still had her missions. The two of them were often left alone in their wing of the place, the supervisors being allowed only till the doors. Ra's was the Head. He didn't check in on them all the time. The two of them weren't slacking in their training either and were considered prodigies.
Danny wanted out of this Cult.
A many months after feeding different information, facts, crafts and so on to his brother, Damian was curious. He was suspicious about the sudden knowledge but he was also 5. He only had to reference the Lazarus Pit (unfiltered and dirty ectoplasm? Seriously? Clockwork, you can't expect him to work on his vocation) once to convince the child.
They snooped around and found out that they had a father out in the world.
Danny got a plan.
It was super stupid. And dangerous as hell. As well as literally (half)suicidal. But he felt it in his chest and knew he'd succeed.
His Core was here. But it was sleeping. And if he wanted to be safe and away from here, he needed to start it up again.
The big pool of Ecto would do just fine. His Core would filter out the impurities.
He didn't want to stay here until his hands no longer protected. He didn't want such life for his brother either.
---
Damian infiltrated the Lazarus Room just in time to see his brother jump into the Pit.
He ran to the edge.
He was sinking.
The green was too bright. The smell around them was too much. His ears rang.
He reached towards the water, eyes unseeing and hands numb. His heartbeat was too loud.
His brother's wasn't loud enough.
"Don't touch the puddles, Dami, you'll get sick," a gentle, cold hand stopped him from diving.
The child looked up. His brother was floating above the water. He looked all wrong. But he was there.
"I didn't want you to see this part..." his brother laughed awkwardly as he landed next to him. A bright ring of light blinded Damian for a second.
And his brother was back.
-----
Getting used to his powers again felt nice but tedious. Soothing his twin was heartbreaking. He didn't think this through hard enough.
Their Mother was none the wiser to the fact that one of her children died and came back. Nore was she privy to the escape being planned by both.
On one moonless night, when Mother wasn't there, the shift was changing and the world was asleep; two boys phased through the walls and flew. Small bags of stuff were strapped onto them as they traveled to their father.
Mother's notes called him Bruce Wayne, Batman, Beloved and Detective.
It wasn't hard to find him when they arrived.
Though, Danny didn't expect a furless furry and a pantless child to be their new family.
Can he ever get a normal Family???
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suashii · 6 months
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒮𝐸𝒳𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒮𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸𝑅𝒮 — the setters and their top kinks
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info ⭑ includes: miya atsumu, oikawa toru, akaashi keiji, sugawara koushi, semi eita ノ f!reader, nsfw (minors do not interact) ノ degradation ノ impact play ノ daddy kink ノ dumbification ノ edging ノ body worship ノ praise kink ノ dacryphilia ノ virgin kink ノ corruption kink ノ all characters written 18+.  
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₊˚ପ⊹ ATSUMU + DEGRADATION & IMPACT PLAY
he’d never call you such lewd, dirty names outside the bedroom, but he can’t ignore how each one goes straight to your pussy. his personal favorites are “whore” and “toy”. he never thought he’d find so much pleasure in bullying, humiliating, you. and he’ll never get over the way you tighten and flutter around his cock when his hand makes contact with your clit or ass. your surprised squeals are like music to his ears and the marks he leaves behind are always a pretty reminder of the night’s activities the next day.
“listen to you, whimpering like a whore when i slap your ass. i’m starting to think you like getting spanked. mm, maybe i should give you another one.”
₊˚ପ⊹ OIKAWA + DADDY KINK & DUMBIFICATION
he gets some sort of rush from hearing you call him daddy. maybe it’s the way you peer up at him through your lashes as you do so. or maybe it’s the blatant embarrassment that you try and fail to hide by biting your lip. can you blame him for wanting to see you completely fucked out? you’re just so pretty when your eyes are staring off at nothing, tongue lolling from between those soft lips. he can’t help the sense of pride that swells in his chest when you’re reduced to such a mess, and all because of him.
“you stopped talking, princess. did daddy really fuck you that hard? can’t even think straight while you’re taking this cock, huh?”
₊˚ପ⊹ AKAASHI + EDGING & BODY WORSHIP
his hands wander about your figure as his mouth travels down every inch of your skin, only ever stopping to tell you how gorgeous you are. you deserve the world and he’s set on giving it to you, even if his method seems slightly cruel. by now, he’s an expert at continuously getting you nearly to your climax and pulling you back just before you can reach it. he’s a patient man and is more than willing to spend all night in the bedroom if that means giving you the most earth shattering orgasm you could imagine.
“god, you look so beautiful like this. you want to come? don’t worry, you only have to wait a little longer, angel. i promise it’ll feel good.”
₊˚ପ⊹ SUGAWARA + PRAISE & DACRYPHILIA
you’re such a sweet thing for suga, always doing what you’re told and making the prettiest noises for him. why shouldn’t he let you know how much he adores you—how proud he is of you? the smile that graces your face and the sparkles in your irises at his approval are really all he could ask for. but a little part of him can’t help but get excited whenever he sees tears of pleasure pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill over your lash line. maybe he’s greedy; or maybe he just wants a reward of his own.
“you did so well for me, my good girl. and you look so pretty with tears streaming down your cheeks. should i clean them up for you?”
₊˚ପ⊹ SEMI + VIRGIN KINK & CORRUPTION
he has this unexplainable desire to take you—someone that was once pure and untouched—and make you his own, to ruin you as he pleases. of course, he’d never tell you so; where’s the fun in that? he’s fixed on watching the authentic experience of your first time. he wants to see how your face scrunches up in pain before it turns to pleasure. he wants to hear your breath catch in your throat before you’re moaning in ecstasy as your orgasm hits. he needs to be the one who gives you a taste of what you’ve been missing out on.
“is it everything you thought it would be? yeah? i never pegged you as the type who liked being used. guess i got lucky with you.”
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hihi~ manz here :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
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okay i've seen a few Just Some Guy!danny aus and they've consumed my brain so here you go, it's under the cut, you're welcome and thank you (ps it also combines part of a prompty type thing i saw the other day, props if you know it)
Danny was not entirely sure how he got here.
He was just walking along, bopping to some great interdimensional tunes, eating his tuna fish sandwich - with ectoplasm and pickles, of course - when KABLOW there's this big ole tightie-whities-on-the-outside wearing guy.
Now, Danny's not great at keeping up with the times, but he's pretty sure this is that Superman dude.
Said SuperDude was staring at his headphones and making vague "hey take them out pls so can converse" gestures, so naturally Danny pops the Interdimensional Walkman out of his chest to pause his wicked music, and then puts the whole kit and kaboodle back behind his rib cage.
"What's up? Did you need help or something? I mean, I'm pretty solidly retired but I guess if it's super important I can-"
SuperGuy abruptly stopped staring and started speaking, "Uh- no, no, thank you. Although I'm sure you could be helpful if I did need you! But, ah, well, was that a Walkman?"
Ohhhhh, Danny totally gets it now.
"Oh, dude, I gotchu. You want me to hook you up, right? Don't even worry about it, I know a guy who'll give you one a these babies for free! You're Kryptonian, right? Yeah, I totally get it, you wanna listen to some music from your home planet, no problemo my newly-minted friend, give me, like, ten seconds-"
And so Danny tore open a neat little portal and stuck his head through it, asking Technus to pretty please give him another Interdimensional Walkman, no he didn't even break this one-! He ran into a Kryptonian who heard him rockin out and wanted to know where he got the beats, and he'd told them that he could hook them up! C'mon Technus, you can't let them down! They're all lonely! They want to learn about their culture!
-----------------------------------------
Clark has no idea what's happening.
He had been searching for this ear-splitting, headache-inducing noise, and had come across a guy dancing down the sidewalk.
Not unusual, right?
Except that the terrible noise was coming from this man's - kid's?? He can't quite tell how old he is - headphones!
Of course, he didn't want to be rude, so he politely gestured for the man to remove the headphones. The man then proceeded to reach into his chest and pull out some kind of - Walkman?? Do people still use Walkmans?
Clark was naturally concerned, so he activated a spot of x-ray vision, just to see what's going on in there, and was promptly horrified.
This man was using his chest cavity as a storage compartment!
Two wallets, a key ring, a lunch box, some sort of odd thermos, bits and bobs of random parts and tools were all tangled around - and occasionally in - this guy's organs!
Suddenly, Clark realized that he'd been staring for a while, and the man was now talking. Something about coming out of retirement to help, oh dear, Ma would knock him around the head if he kept being so rude, "Uh- no, no, thank you. Although I'm sure you could be helpful if I did need you! But, ah, well, was that a Walkman?"
And now he was speaking rapidly, something about music from Krypton? Clark's pretty sure that not a whole lot survived the explosion, and he'd be pretty surprised if this guy just happened to have-
A vaguely Lazarus colored portal??
What in the world-
-----------------------------------------
"Thanks Technus! You're the best! I owe you one non evil scheme related favour!"
Danny zips up the portal and turns around, fiddling with the tapes and Walkman in his hands as he goes.
"Here you go! I wasn't entirely sure what genre you'd want, I don't really listen to a whole lot of Kryptonian stuff to be honest, it's usually too heavy on the vocal for me- not that vocals aren't great! But I want a whole band experience, yaknow? I'm not really looking for individual singers. Anyway, I just had him go for a couple songs of each major genre, but if you want something different you can totally-"
"Wait, hold on, you're telling me that there's Kryptonian music on those tapes? Playable by that Walkman?"
"Uh, well, yeah. Isn't that why you tracked me down? And, technically, I mean, they're ectoplasmic tapes and an Interdimensional Walkman, so. Hey, did you know that kryptonite is actually super-condensed ectoplasm? And since it's filled with the anguish and suffering and fear and whatnot of your entire home planet dying, it only negatively affects your species! Pretty cool right? Oh, shit, was that insensitive, I really didn't mean to be, I just thought that maybe you'd want to- ACK!"
Danny was not expecting SuperMuscles to get so close. He thrust out the IW and tapes and dropped them into SuperFellow's hands, "Listen, I gotta run. I'm supposed to be at a o-chem study group right now and they're totally gonna be pissed. Hit me up if you want a different tape."
And the proceeded to run in the opposite direction, duck into an alley and turn invisible, and fly over to the cafe his study group was in.
"Listen, I know I'm late but you'll never believe why-"
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hana-no-seiiki · 2 months
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Good news. Did some decent progress on What’s Up Danger so you guys will finally get fed this Wednesday! Bad news, the quality might not be the best since I’m fasting while writing it oTL
Anyways, here are some Batfam w/ Cat Villain! Reader moments/snippets.
TW YANDERE AND MENTION OF NONCON/SOMNO
Both Jason and Reader’s first words to each other were, “What the fuck.”
Reader referring to Jason being a giant, and violent asf esp in comparison to Dick. While Jason was confused at his heart beating so fast and mildly crushing on you while you were fighting.
Bonus points: You guys did the spiderman point meme.
You have the biggest age gap with Dick. I headcannon the boys to be close in age so there wouldn’t be any not so good implications when it comes to relationships, but it’s almost unavoidable unless Batman switches sidekicks every year or so. (You are younger than Jason but older than Tim)
But that is also another reason why you two didn’t click as well as you did with Jason
You’d often make jokes or use slang and Dick would just be “???” He tried his best though.
On the reverse side of things, and like I mention before Tim and you got along too well as friends. He’s one of the few people you could gush to about literally any fandom and he somehow (through stalking your searches and literally every gadget/appliance you owned) knew everything about it already.
You two have written several theses on fellow vigilantes and villains (mostly ‘dumb’ ones like who has the best cake based on so and so criteria)
Damian is the best when it comes to bantering with you mid-fight. It’s the combined years of sass and assassin training. Went from plain insults to whole ass (not so) subtly being horny when you beat each other down.
He’s also the worst (best?) when it comes to your nicknames. He insists that you two use it on each other. Some exclusive while others he’s usually fine hearing from other mouths.
There was one point in time where you were called Kitten while the boys forced/bribed you to call them Daddy
Tim and Jason have tattoos of you/related to you.
For Jason it’s your name with a few paw prints, and for Tim it’s when he first fought you (and got his ass whooped)
After Jason came back and revealed himself to you, he tattooed the scratch marks you left him on his back after doing the deed.
Damian secretly practices doing henna so he can draw on you during your “wedding” since he doesn’t want anyone touching you. Sort of defeats the purpose, but go off king.
Being the thorough guy he is, he uses lab equipment to make his own blends.
Bruce? Bruce hates your ass. Sometimes it’s in a hatefuckey way but most of the time he blames you for corrupting his kids.
So he corrupted you in turn.
I feel like he gets off to cucking them honestly (blame that one comic) but if Reader is AFAB I wouldn’t be surprised if he impregnated them.
He’s a softie at heart when it comes to you though, courtesy of your similarities with Selina.
Speaking of, Talia adores you.
Like if there was anyone she would want with her son it was you.
She thinks the fact that you haven’t been put behind bars is a testament to your skill, and after getting over your similarity to her “rival in love” she would actively get you to be with her son.
Eventually she realizes she loves you more than Bruce and well, that’s a story for another fic.
You have at least a dozen trackers on you at all times.
Most of them you’ve ingested and pooped out.
It’s mostly Tim of course. But the duty of actually feeding you that stuff usually goes to Dick.
Dick has uh- somnophillia’ed you a fair bit after the break up.
He really, and I mean really likes to watch you sleep.
It reminds him of those ‘catnaps’ you’d take while watching over the Titans.
There would be times where he’d just be in a daze/in autopilot for hours reminiscing about your past together
His favorite memories to go back to were your first fight together, first kiss, and times under the sheets, and a date you guys had before in a festival/circus.
He never takes the antidote for Poison Ivy’s sex pollen and always comes to you for it, regardless of his or your relationship status.
Tim has at least a million typewritten chats with AI you, and around a few hundred hours of voice chats.
You did eventually take his virginity.
He came as soon as he was inside you/you were inside him.
You have been offered to be a part of the bat crew or a vigilante. But,
you massacred many after Jason’s supposed death and feel too guilty to call yourself anything other than a villain.
Chokers with bells. It’s a popular gift to give you. Especially ones that are custom made with expensive ass materials and engraving.
Sometimes Tim just gives you weapons.
Alfred is your best source of blackmail material.
You’ve actively tried cursing him (with immortality). You love the man.
He’s secretly the president of your official fanclub/fansite but you didn’t hear that from me.
You fight a lot with Damian’s pets. Like in a way that you turn into a literal cat and hiss at them.
And last but not least, you’re vv close with every member of the Teen Titans (besties with Rachel and Garfield)
NOT PROOFREAD!!!
@sophiethewitch1
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I am posting and responding to this ask anonymously as I don't want anyone harassing its sender. This has already been communicated with the person who sent the ask.
I just want to thank you for being a light in the darkness of anti-semitism, especially on this website. I have found I am on this site a lot less ever since it was made clear that other leftists here are more anti-semitic than we ever knew possible, using very specific wording of our own trauma against us (i.e. saying stuff like "colonialism", "genocide/ethnic cleansing", and calling JEWISH PEOPLE Nazis). It feels like, at best, they know Hamas ≠ All or even most Palestinians, but think that they think all JEWS = Bibi; and at worst, agree with Hamas and think of him as some sort of "freedom fighter". So, thank you from one leftist Jew to another, just trying to keep afloat here. ❤️
You are very welcome; it's certainly been overwhelming, and I'm glad this can be a safe space for you.
I do want to push back on some of this ask, though. Specifically in regard to terms such as "colonialism," "apartheid," "genocide," and "ethnic cleansing."
The use of these terms is not inherently anti-Semitic. For a lot of people, these terms are the best ones they have access to describe what they are seeing. I do think such terms as “colonialism” and “apartheid” are overly simple in regard to the last ~3000 years of Jewish history, and that they cast the situation into an alien historical context which dilutes and uncomplicates the all the historical realities at stake, but I truly do not think that all who use these terms do so to cause Jewish people pain.
Further complicating the picture is that terms like "colonialism" aren’t completely wrong. Modern Zionism arose in the context of mid-nineteenth century European large-scale movements towards nationalism (ie, the creation of nation-states) and away from the multi-national empire. Jews—a subject of anti-Semitism and fifth columnist suspicions within those emergent European nations—reacted to all this by joining the nationalism game.
What’s ironic, is that those European Jews who founded contemporary Zionism were reacting to the exclusion and racial hatred with which Gentile Europeans treated them, and then once they had some settlements in Palestine, they deployed similar variants of racial hatred at both the Palestinian Arab population, and Middle Eastern Jewry.
The existence of a distinct people and ethnic group in Palestine before the aliyot were not something the first generation of Zionists were concerned with. Because they were part of the same shitty, white supremacist, pro-imperialistic intellectual European tradition to which they were responding as victimized parties. As time went on and Zionist thought spread across Ashkenazic communities, we can see some variants. Some forms of far-left Zionism in twentieth century Poland, for example, actively built the presence and rights of Palestinian Arabs into their ideology, some of them actively stating that Zionism could not be a success if it necessitated transforming Palestinian Arabs into a group of secondhand citizens and a cheap source of labor in their own home.
Those leftist strands of Zionism tended to be Socialist/Communist in nature, and centered around the idea of life in Eretz Yisrael as one of a series of self-sufficient communes. Thus when the 1930s hit and things start to go bad, the Zionists we see fleeing to Palestine tended to be of the more centrist and far right variants. The left wing, socialist movements, already operating as a collective, had a membership uncomfortable with fleeing to safety while the rest remained behind.
And that same socialist/communal attitude, is why those variants of Zionist thought never made it into the Israeli political mainstream; most of their members and proponents were murdered in the Holocaust in part because they refused to leave their comrades behind. The General Zionists and Zionist Revisionists who rode out the years of the Holocaust in Palestine therefore already had access to the avenues of power which would become important in 1948, when the British Empire shrugged off its responsibilities towards the regions it colonized and destabilized.
Now, as for ethnic cleansing. I can’t sugar-coat this: that’s what the Naqba was. It was ethnic cleansing of Palestinian Arabs from their homes to make way for the Jewish State. The manipulative shit (but still somehow extremely prestigious) youth group I was in taught us that Arabs call it Naqba because they hate Jews and therefore existence of Jews in the Southern Levant was a tragedy, as was the fact that Hitler didn't finish the job.
That’s garbage: it’s called the Naqba because it was ethnic cleansing. And that's not the fault of the Holocaust survivors who made their way to Mandatory Palestine/Israel in the late 1940s--they lacked political power, and were often looked down upon by those who did; the Holocaust as part of Israeli National Mythology wasn't an immediate Thing.
If you spent your formative years around older Jewish folks of A Certain Generation, whose trauma has pretty much placed a permanent block on their ability to see some of what went down in 1948 for what it was, I can’t blame you for having that gut/cognitive dissonance reaction to the use of “ethnic cleansing” in the context of Israel and Palestine. I know those older folks. I loved them. They’re mostly gone now, and I miss them terribly. But their trauma-induced view of everything lives on in the ability of some younger Jews to properly name and understand what it is that happened in 1948.
It was ethnic cleansing.
Further, not only were Palestinian Arabs ethnically cleansed, but the Middle Eastern and North African (MENA) Jews who were forced by their governments to flee their homes of thousands of years and seek refuge in Israel throughout the second half of the twentieth century…the Western and Central European Jews in control of Israel and its institutions treated them like shit too. Hadassah actively stole the babies of Yemeni Jews, told the parents that their children were dead, and rehomed them to Ashkenazic couples. There were death certificates. Members of the Ethiopian Jewish community were forcibly sterilized, and their ongoing treatment by the State is racist and generally atrocious. And this analysis of the relationship between the Israel State, MENA Jewish populations, and different Ashkenazic groups in Israel is horribly short and overly simple.
As for genocide. I honestly don’t know. I do know many people, who are very much not Anti-Semites, who are calling what’s happening in Gaza right now genocide; many of these people are also Jewish. I know many others who refer to the experiences of Palestinians between 1948 and now as a slow genocide. Many of these people are also actively not anti-Semites, and many of them are Jewish.
So these terms, as uncomfortable as they may feel for people within the very specific Jewish generational background I believe we share, are not deployed as anti-Semitic weapons. Nazi comparisons? Yes. Swastikas superimposed over the Star of David? Yes. Very specific hook-nosed Jewish caricatures in relation to Israelis? Yes. Blood libel shit? Yes. These are all anti-Semitic, and are deployed to hurt and retraumatize Jewish people. But the rest are not nearly that simple.
And I didn’t learn this from like, Bad Evil Post-Modern Academics at Columbia University Who Hate Jews; I learned this from doing graduate-level work in the field of Modern Jewish History, and working in Jewish archives; this did not come from outside the building.
Now, as for Hamas as freedom fighters…that’s ignorant at best. Hamas’ charter clearly calls for the global destruction of the Jewish people [ETA: they edited this part out in 2017 for PR purposes], and their actions as rulers are horrifically, violently, homophobic, and seem to be more abut provoking Israel than they are about governing and protecting their people. But as you said, Hamas isn’t all Palestinians, and it’s also not all Palestinians who consider themselves freedom fighters. (A second reader of mine had the following commentary on this paragraph: "Might need a bit more complication around Hamas? I know that's not your area of expertise but it's worth mentioning that they were basically set up to undermine the PLO and what would become the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank. You're right that they aren't representative of all Palestinian thought and resistance, and that they are on some fuck shit.")
So while I’m so glad that blog is a comfort to you, I encourage you to also take a step into some of your discomfort, and ask yourself where it comes from.
No one reading this post has my consent to use it to silence other Jewish people who are in different stages of their journey towards understanding how generational trauma has impacted their ability to grasp all of this. Further, if you choose to attack me for gently calling my people in, you're a piece of shit and I will be mean to you.
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cepheustarot · 2 months
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What does fate have in store for you in the near future?
Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.
Paid readings
Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.
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Pile 1: Here fate will arrange for you to meet a person. It will be an unexpected meeting for you, since a person will literally appear suddenly out of nowhere but from the first days you will feel a strong connection with them, you will get very close to this person, you will open your soul to them, as they will open theirs to you, in general, emotional and personal conversations will be involved here. By themself the person is calm, perhaps they are not very emotional and in some places can behave as if they do not care but in fact it is not so! Person is very sensitive, prone to empathy, they are a good listener and you can say they generally like to listen more than talk. They may also be well versed in psychology or something similar, may have a lot of experience in terms of relationships between people. And although a person is very sensitive, still relies on logic and common sense, not allowing emotions to take over. In general fate organized this meeting for you to help you succeed in some area (mostly in terms of studies, finances, work) or if you had problems then they will help you solve them. It is also necessary for you to find support in it since now you may be in limbo and feel unstable or you constantly have situations that unsettle you.
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Pile 2: As I see it this option could be chosen by those who do not feel very well morally, you feel exhausted or you have been depressed lately, you may feel very tired, burnout, stress and all that sort of thing. You may also miss a lot of privacy, being alone and you may feel a lot of pressure from your family or people around you. Here you might not find the opportunity to relax or generally forget to rest because you were immersed in some kind of activity. So here fate, roughly speaking, will "force you" to take a break, perhaps your plans will be interrupted and you will be forced to spend time with yourself. Perhaps your loved ones will leave for other cities, places or will be too busy to meet you or vice versa you will have to leave for some reason.
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Pile 3: Here fate will give you a choice that cannot be abandoned, where there will be no third option and you will have to choose from what you have. In particular this choice is associated with some person dear to you, with whom you have known for a long time, communicate closely and in general you can have a very strong connection. It can be your close friend, your lover, your colleague, your partner with whom you work, etc. In particular here you will have to make a choice to continue communicating with this person or not, since your relationship has reached some kind of dead end and is not developing in any way, you may not feel the same warmth on his part, the same interest and it may seem to you that this person has changed. This choice is a turning point in your life or on your life path but in any case, thanks to this situation, you will be able to gain wisdom, become stronger, more experienced — in any case, all this will only be a plus for you even if it is hard or painful at the beginning, then everything will bear fruit in the end.
Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤
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kaisacobra · 3 months
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Let You Go - Tara Carpenter
Summary: It's been a while since Tara has seen you. She misses you, but maybe she's broken your relationship to a point beyond repair.
Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of death, angst
Word Count: 7.9k
a/n: thank you so much for the ride guys! Here we have part 3 of second best, which (kind of) ends this trilogy. Of course, I'm still writing the alternate ending so stay tuned if you're interested!
third part of Second Best
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It was two in the afternoon when Tara began rummaging through that box she kept at the back of her closet, sorting the contents into "burn" and "don't burn," all in line with what her therapist had advised. She needed to overcome the past, even if in small steps, and what better way to start than by burning traces of when everything started going wrong?
She looked into the box, examining the contents that would survive the purge. To no one's surprise, most of the photos contained you.
Tara reached for a specific photo among the others. A polaroid depicting a hug between the two of you, both with radiant smiles and faces so close that your cheeks touched. Mindy had taken this photo just before you both visited an amusement park that had been in town for a while. Tara's heart throbbed painfully. She missed you. A lot.
The girl sat on the bed with slumped shoulders, clutching the polaroid as if it were a precious possession. She couldn't take her eyes off the image of the two of you, with a happiness and innocence that would soon be ruined by her own actions. With a tired sigh, Tara closed her eyes, remembering her therapist's words.
The initial sessions were slow and unproductive, mainly because Tara kept her guard up and refused to talk much about her life to a stranger. Over time, the man became a pleasant presence, and Tara began to see him as some sort of a grandfather figure trying to advise his granddaughter. That's when she started sharing her problems and actively sought solutions.
"Do you think she'll forgive me?" she remembered asking, looking at her hands with shame. The bright white light in the room made the sweat on her palms stand out on her tan skin.
"Tara..." The man sighed, taking off his glasses as if he was preparing for a battle. "Don't you think you should worry about forgiving yourself first?"
The girl frowned and looked at him as if he were crazy. If anything, she was guilty of not only ruining her own life but also becoming a problem in everyone else's. She had no right to see herself as a victim. "What do you mean?"
"From what you've told me, I've realized you harbor a lot of resentment towards yourself on the inside." He pointed to Tara's chest, and she noticed no hint of judgment in his expression. Still, she felt strangely exposed. "Have you ever really reflected on this internal conflict you feel? About feeling guilty for things beyond your control?"
Tara scoffed and leaned back until her shoulders rested against the chair again, crossing her arms and staring at the walls like a stubborn child avoiding conflicts. "Beyond my control? I was awful to the best person in my life! I let a murderer into our life for-"
"See? You're doing it again." He smiled with a patience that bordered on irritating for the girl, crossing his hands on the glass table that separated them. "I'm not saying you're not at fault for being rude to your friend, but I'd like to focus on your past. That girl's attacks, parental abandonment... You're not to blame for that, Tara, but it doesn't stop you from carrying the pain anyways. Don't you think it affects you?"
She remained silent, but now her head was bowed in embarrassment. Her arms, once crossed, now enveloped her elbows in a half-hug, as if that would protect her from something. Without more exchanging words, the therapist followed the cue and continued speaking in a gentle tone, as if trying to educate a wounded animal.
"Tara, have you ever talked about your concerns with anyone, or have you just kept all these grievances inside until they exploded? Have you ever had any healthy coping mechanism?"
I don't deserve one. That's what she wanted to say, but didn't, because she knew it would make the situation even worse.
"Do you think I don't recognize the signs? Troubled young adult refuses help out of fear of abandonment and ends up driving everyone away, taking the opportunity to take out your emotional wounds on others? You won't be the first or the last person I've seen with this pattern." He spoke as if he could read her thoughts, leaving the girl a little scared.
Sitting up straighter in the chair, Tara turned her gaze back to the therapist, momentarily becoming interested in the conversation again. "Okay, what do I do to end this? What do I do to not be like this anymore?"
Broken, she wanted to say.
The man smiled gently and pulled open a drawer in the wooden cabinet to his left. Tara watched impatiently as he took out a black notebook and placed it on the table between them, looking between her and the object with a certain expectation. "I thought you could start documenting your feelings on paper, instead of keeping them locked within you. I think it can help you in the long run."
"Do you think writing in a journal will make me less of an ass and make y/n forgive me?" Tara replied with a sarcastic tone.
"I think it can influence a change in behavior, yes." The therapist reaffirmed, deliberately ignoring the girl's foul language. "And this exercise is not about y/n; it's about you. How do you expect her to forgive you if you can't do it for yourself?"
As stubborn as Tara was, the words had truly left an impression on her. That's why, on top of her messy desk, was the damn black notebook. The calluses on her hand throbbed with the memory of the force with which she wrote each new entry, trying to release her negative feelings onto paper.
She knew that your name was probably the most repeated word on all the pages, like a sacred mantra that she had to honor. Tara couldn't escape the fact that many of her emotions were so directly intertwined with the idea of you, and honestly, she accepted having to carry that burden as her own Sisyphean stone. She deserved it, after all.
Looking again at the polaroid, she sighed and slowly ran her thumb over the smiling image of your face, almost wishing she could offer you the same affection in person.
She was going to change. She had to change. For you.
_
"That was pretty good!"
The floodlights on the university’s sports field lit up as it began to get dark, allowing the young athletes to continue their training even at night. There weren't many people around, but you could see that the track team seemed to be gearing up to practice for the 100 meters a little to your left.
"Kate, I hit the white part." You grumbled in response to your friend's encouraging words. Kate Bishop had convinced you to attend one of her archery practices to "see her talents firsthand," and at some point, she thought just watching wouldn't be enough, and that you had to experience the sport for yourself.
That's why you were now on the archery training field with her, holding a semi-professional bow that was much heavier than you expected, proving over and over again that you were definitely not a natural at this.
It didn't seem to discourage Kate, however, as the girl still smiled with enthusiasm while looking at your target with a single arrow stuck in it. "At least you hit the target! You're improving; it could be worse."
"True! You could have hit someone's foot, like Miss Bishop did once." One of Kate's teammates, Yelena, commented with a laugh. The two, along with Maya Lopez, made up the Blackmore University women's archery team and were surprisingly good at it, having won all the recent competitions.
You laughed along with the other two while Kate gradually turned redder and assumed a betrayed expression. "Hey!" She protested.
It was amazing how people you had known for such a short time could make you feel so good. You couldn't even remember the last time you had laughed so freely since the incident with Tara happened, and that was already a significant victory for you. It's not like being with Mindy, Chad, Anika, and the others didn't make you happy, but it was hard to enjoy the moments with them when you remembered that, in any other situation, Tara would be there with you too.
Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and you leaned the tip of the bow on your foot, letting its weight rest on your shoulder so you could reach the device with your hands. Through the lockscreen, you could see a message notification from Mindy, as if she had read your thoughts.
Best Twin: Movie night at the Carpenters' house, are you coming?
Best Twin: Sam misses you
Best Twin: We all do
You sighed deeply and looked at the notification with a grimace, not sure exactly what to do. Of course, you would love to spend time with your friends, and you definitely felt guilty for avoiding Sam by extension, even though she understood the reason. But your palms started to sweat just at the thought of sharing a small space with Tara again.
Mindy had already told you that Tara had started therapy after the encounter you had in some of the university’s corridors some time ago, but she had also said that it was entirely valid if you still didn't feel ready to see Tara after everything.
It was a strange feeling, as if two forces were fighting for dominance within you when it came to Tara. On one hand, just thinking about her made your chest ache. A wave of anger, sadness, and pure humiliation invaded you, and your eyes threatened to well up. What she did to you, what she said to you, marked you like a painful burn that might never stop pulsating.
But on the other hand, you wondered if there were still traces of that other Tara who loved and treated you well. The Tara who made you soup when you were sick and promised never to leave you. Maybe it was your foolishness, but you didn't want to believe that that part of her had simply gone away forever.
"Are you okay?" A soft voice reached your ears and quickly snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to loosen the tight grip with which you had involuntarily held the phone. Looking up, you came face to face with Kate's kind blue eyes, patiently waiting for your response.
Kate Bishop had been an angel in your life, fitting in perfectly at the moment you needed her most. You had met her in the waiting room of the counseling center after spending a week living like a zombie following everything that happened with Tara, and you could barely comprehend that you were sharing the same space with someone like her.
At first glance, Kate Bishop didn't seem like someone who needed to be in a counseling center. She carried herself with confidence, always with impeccable posture and a calm expression on a model-like face. Always dressed in neat clothes that you were sure were designer and carrying a sports bag indicating her athletic background.
But when she approached you and started a conversation, saying she needed to talk to someone or she'd explode with anxiety before her first appointment, you began to realize that Kate might not be what you expected. She was, in fact, much kinder and more attentive than you could have predicted.
You talked a lot that day, and the next day, and the day after, until there came a point where you got along well enough to consider her a friend. Kate listened to everything about your issues with Tara and provided advice and emotional support. In return, you listened to her vent about her problems with a father who died in childhood, a mother imprisoned for fraud, and an inherited company she didn't want to have to run at that age.
They were quite different dilemmas, just as you were quite different people, but still, you felt at ease in her presence, and it was good to have someone who truly noticed you for once in your life.
"Hm? Okay. It's fine, yes, I just..." You searched for words but gave up, opting to speak the truth about what was bothering you. "Mindy invited me to watch movies with the others, and it's at Tara's house, and I didn't want to have to refuse, but I don't know if I'm ready for-"
Kate widened her eyes and raised her hands as if asking for a pause, interrupting your rapid and anxious flow of words. "Woah, hold on, champ. You don't have to go if you don't feel okay. They'll understand."
"Yeah, I know, it's just that..." You sighed, looking down at your feet planted in the field's grass. "I miss them, but... I can't."
As much as it hurt and was embarrassing to admit, you knew it still wasn't the right time. Not when you sometimes still woke up crying in the middle of the night with nightmares involving her.
"Then how about this?" Kate began to suggest, getting closer to you and gently shaking your shoulders. Physical touches had always been her way of offering comfort. "There's a party at my place tonight with some of my childhood friends, and I'm officially inviting you. You can tell your friend that you'll be busy spending time with a very beautiful, charming, and talented company."
You smiled as you let yourself be shaken by the cheerful girl in front of you. "A very humble company, apparently." You teased, poking her ribs playfully. "I don't want to disturb you, but thanks for the invite."
"Disturb? I'd be the one disturbing your illustrious evening by forcing you to hang out with my friends! Believe me, it's torture listening to Peter for 2 hours when he gets excited about his nerd stuff." Kate tried again, and by the way she looked at you with the expression of a begging puppy, you knew there would be no escape. "Please? It'll be nice to have you there."
There were two available possibilities. In the first, you could go back to your dorm, watch a bad movie alone, and spend the rest of the night thinking about how your friends would be having fun, specifically wondering if she would be having fun. In the second, you could take another step in getting rid of your codependent friendship (if it still existed) and enjoy the night with new people and a person who was becoming more and more important to you every day.
If Tara didn't want to be stuck in the past, you also had the right to do that. You deserved it too.
So, you accepted and only remembered to inform Mindy when you were already in the passenger seat of Kate's black Audi RS7.
_
Tara was distraught. Actually, saying that she was distraught was an understatement.
Last night had already started off as garbage from the moment Mindy announced that you wouldn't be coming to see them at the apartment. Sure, she should have expected it, but that didn't mean she didn't have any hope. She couldn't stop thinking about what you might be doing, the reasons why you hadn't come, how everything would have been better if you had.
But mostly, she felt relieved that you hadn't been there, because that meant she hadn't put you in danger again with another ghostface attack. It was a selfish thought. Quinn, her roommate, had died in front of her, Anika had her belly almost cut from end to end and was now in surgery, and all Tara could think about was finding you to see with her own eyes that you were okay.
She urgently searched for your face in the midst of the crowd of students walking through the Blackmore University campus, seeking the slightest fragment of your presence anywhere. She cursed herself again for not being able to just call you like she would if she hadn't messed up and made you block her in practically every possible place.
Finding you and making sure you were okay, in addition to delivering the terrible news, was her obligation. Mindy and Sam were with Anika at the hospital, and Chad had gone to check Ethan's alibi in the damn economics class. She needed to find you.
Fortunately, her prayers seemed to be answered by whatever entity it was. She saw you in the distance, radiant as she hadn't seen you in a long time. Tara's heart skipped a beat, and she opened her own smile after yours. It was bittersweet, the feeling of seeing you so happy but knowing that this happiness would be ruined the moment you laid eyes on her.
In a moment of distraction, a new wave of people passed in front of her, blocking her view of you. Fucking height. She thought with some annoyance as she tried to make her way through the students, trying to get closer to where you were.
When Tara finally managed to locate you again, the scene was quite different from before. Instead of laughing, looking forward, you had your back turned, seemingly struggling while a girl wrapped her arms around your neck. Tara felt a wave of anger rise through her veins and marched in your direction, ready to free you from whoever that crazy bitch was.
The younger Carpenter approached you with a speed she couldn't quite explain, and her motivation only seemed to grow when she noticed that the mysterious girl looked a lot like that senior she had seen with you in the hallway some time ago. Choosing to embrace her negative feelings, she used her strength in a way that would make her sister proud and aggressively pushed the girl away. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"Tara?!" You exclaimed in shock, your voice carrying surprise, and your expression wavering between anger, astonishment, and anguish. "What do you think you're doing, are you crazy?!"
Tara saw you getting closer to the girl (Karen, Kendra, she couldn't remember.) and gently placing your hand on her shoulder, as if checking her condition. That small gesture made more anger bubble in her stomach. She wanted to scream, throw a fit, damn, she wanted to destroy something just to get rid of that rotten feeling corroding her from the inside.
But she looked into your eyes and could see a glimpse of the sadness she had caused in the past by this same line of thinking. She couldn't do this to you again, especially because that wasn't even why she had come looking for you. Tara swallowed hard and clenched her fists, deciding to save her frustration to take it out on calluses on her own fingers later.
"She was attacking you," Tara mumbled reluctantly, knowing that the explanation sounded stupid but that she also owed some reasoning for her actions.
You clearly didn't seem satisfied with her motivation, as you only stared at her with a frown and crossed arms. "Kate is a martial arts expert, Tara. She was just showing me how to escape from an arm lock."
Well, how was I supposed to know that? Tara thought, but she decided it was better not to worsen the situation. Before you could ask why she had been clearly looking at you for some time, she decided to explain.
"Look, I'm sorry. There was a ghostface attack in the apartment yesterday, and I just needed to know if you were safe."
"What?! An attack?! How- Are you guys okay?!" You asked exasperated, and Tara saw it. She saw the exact moment when you had to restrain your arms by your sides before doing something you would regret.
Tara remembered that being the first thing you did when you could see her after the surgeries last year. You ran to her on the gurney and held her face with both hands, as if she were fragile. You ran your thumbs over her cheeks, right above the freckles, wanting to make sure nothing was injured. She remembered feeling well cared for and loved.
But that was before she messed everything up. Now, all that was left was that. You restraining yourself from offering your heart to Tara, and she wanting to die realizing the damage she had done between you two.
"Sort of. Anika is in critical condition in the hospital, and... Quinn died." Tara delivered the news with a solemn voice, trying to control her own tears as she remembered what happened. She saw when Kate raised her arm to offer a comforting stroke on your back, and, for the first time, all Tara felt was emptiness knowing she couldn't comfort you in that way.
You let out a few sobs before trying to compose yourself. It was clear that you had been affected by the events, and Tara knew you well enough to know that you would want to go after the others to comfort them. "Which hospital is Anika in? And where are Sam, Mindy, and Chad, I... I need to talk to them."
Tara felt a bit of pride in realizing that she still knew your way of dealing with things, even though she was worried that your priority was always to take care of others' pains. Of course, much of that was her fault, and a knot closed in her throat every time she remembered that fact. "Sam and Mindy are at the hospital waiting for Anika to be discharged. Chad went with Ethan to handle something about an alibi."
"I can take you if you want," Kate offered you  in a chivalry that almost made Tara vomit. "It will be faster if we go by car."
"Or maybe it would be faster for her to take the subway with someone who knows the address, like me." Tara retorted sarcastically, crossing her arms to try to cause, at least, the minimal intimidation to her rival. It didn't seem to be working, which made her even more irritated. "Speaking of addresses, where were you last night, Kate?"
Feeling that the conversation would only escalate, you quickly shook your head. "Stop it, Tara. There's no way Kate could be the ghostface."
"And why not?" The girl asked defensively, with an offended tone almost similar to one she would have if you had accused her. It was frustrating for Tara that you seemed willing to vouch for a person you had barely known. "She suddenly appeared in your life, got so close to you in such a short time, don't you find that a bit suspicious?"
"This might sound a bit surprising to you, Tara, but some people actually like having me around." You retorted with irritation, throwing daggers at the girl with a look so intense that she almost stumbled backward. "Kate can't be ghostface because I spent the whole night with her, okay?"
Suddenly, Tara felt dizzy, with a buzzing in her ears. Apparently, you hadn't had the best problem in overcoming your feelings for her. She felt weird inside, as if something were stuck in her throat. "Oh, I didn't know you guys..."
"No! Not like that, I just..." You widened your eyes and hurried to correct the double meaning of the sentence, waving your hands frantically in a way that made Kate open a smile in amusement beside you. "...I slept at her apartment, but not with her. Not that I owe you an explanation anyway."
Your phone vibrated with a notification, and all three pairs of eyes turned to the device. You quickly checked the message and let out a sigh of relief. "It's Sam. She sent me the address of the hospital; I'm going there now. Without any of you, please."
"Okay. Just be careful, alright? And call me if you need anything." Tara watched reluctantly as Kate pulled you closer by the shoulders and planted a small kiss on your forehead. She swallowed the envy and looked away, trying to think of the last time she had offered you any kind of affection.
You said goodbye to Kate with a warm smile and a hug. For Tara, your lips pressed into a line, and you nodded briefly, almost as if you were greeting a stranger.
She wondered if that's what you two were now.
The Carpenter girl prepared to leave, maybe to find Chad and help him or just take a walk to ease the tornado swirling in her chest. However, she was interrupted by a hand on her arm. Kate Bishop tried to get her attention, wearing a conflicted expression on her face.
"What is it?" Tara grumbled, shaking her arm to free herself from the other girl's touch. She was used to being shorter than most people, but with Kate, it became even more annoying, especially when she had to look down at her.
"Look, I know you don't like me, and, to be honest, I don't like you one bit, but I need you to do something for me," Kate said seriously, putting a hand in her pocket and retrieving an object that Tara could only identify as a car key.
The shorter one scoffed. "Listen, I know Y/N and I are on bad terms, but I don't need you to ask me to take care of her. I'm going to do that anyway because I care about her, believe it or not."
Kate rolled her eyes impatiently. "I know. I can see that in you the same way you can see it in me."
It was true, as much as it bothered Tara to admit. She wasn't blind, and she had enough experience in reading people to know that the way Kate looked at you was sincere, and the girl genuinely cared about you. Putting aside her own jealousy and envy, Tara was relieved to know that there was someone good enough to show these feelings for you. You deserved it, after all.
The girl continued, "This device here is a prototype from my mom’s—my company. It's for security." She raised the object and placed it in Tara's hand, who could now see the details of what she had previously thought was a car key. It was a black oval keychain with a single button in the middle, also black. "I pulled some strings and turned it into an emergency button. As soon as you press it, a signal will be sent to police cars and ambulances, and it will be their priority to get to you. That's one of the advantages of being rich and having contacts, I guess."
Tara turned the button in her hands, feeling the object weigh more now that she knew its function. "And why are you giving this to me and not Y/N?"
"Because I know she would use it on anyone but herself." Kate sighed in frustration. Tara knew it was implied in the sentence that you would use the button for her. "I'm giving it to you because... despite the fighting and you being a jerk..."
"Wow. Thanks for the honesty."
"... I can still see that you care." The taller one finished her sentence without caring about the interruption. She looked between Tara and the button with a bit of uncertainty. "When you press it, a signal will also be sent to my phone, and I'll come running wherever it is."
There were more implicit intentions in that sentence that Tara could pick up. I'll come running to help Y/N. I'll take her away from you. I can protect her better than you can.
Tara just offered a short nod and turned to leave, with the emergency button weighing as much in her pocket as her heart weighed in her chest. Thousands of thoughts filled her head, and all of them were about you and your safety. It was Tara's duty to keep you safe, first because it was her fault that you were even in that situation, and second because she had already hurt you enough.
It was her mission to protect you. To prove to herself that she could still be good for you. To prove to you how much she still cared.
And if she couldn't, if she had to press that button... well...
Maybe it would be the sign she needed to understand that Kate Bishop deserved more of a place in your life than she did.
_
The lobby of the abandoned cinema ironically looked like something straight out of a horror movie that Tara would hate. Dust had piled up in heaps on all surfaces, and the orange lights were so dim that they threatened to go out at any moment.
The others were in the center of the other room, where Richie Kirsch, being the maniac he was, left his extensive collection of items from stab movies and real life ghostfaces. Tara, however, thought it would be a better idea to follow you wherever your feet and lost expression took you, just so she wouldn't have to leave you alone, of course.
You had your back turned to her while leaning on the filthy counter with your elbows. Tara couldn't tell what you were thinking, but obviously, you were not okay, just like everyone else in that situation.
From the corner of her eye, she saw a box of Milk Duds on the other side of the counter that seemed untouched, just a few inches to your left. She approached with light steps, not wanting to make any sudden movements as if that would scare you away, and reached out to bring the box closer. "You like these, right? You can have them if you want."
You didn't respond to the joke, and you didn't even turn around to look at Tara. She felt your indifference like a stab to the chest, but she continued nonetheless. "Or not. This must be like a thousand years old anywa-"
"Tara, shut up." You finally responded sharply, making the younger girl look down in shame. She really needed to get used to your new treatment of her. You ran your hands over your face, covering it as if you were tired.
"Sorry." Tara whispered back weakly. She deserved it, but more than anything, she wanted to be able to offer you some kind of support in that difficult moment, just as you had given her all the support she needed in the past.
You scoffed, in a gesture so hostile that the younger Carpenter almost couldn't believe it came from you. You were still facing away from her, but now slowly taking steps away with tense shoulders. "Did you learn a new word? Didn't know it was in your vocabulary."
Tara felt the anger in your voice, and it made her hands begin to tremble with anxiety. You were right, and it was long overdue for you to know that. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it's too late for this, but I'm sorry for everything I did."
"Do you even care? Seriously, Tara, do you really feel sorry, or do you just miss having some idiot around who would do anything for you?" You retorted, your voice rising even as your vocal cords trembled. A dam had just burst open between you two, and now it was time to deal with the flood.
"Of course, I care, I love you!"
"SHUT UP!" You shouted in response. Tara recoiled from you with a start, startled as she had never seen you raise your voice at anyone. You were still facing away, but Tara could see that, even though you had wrapped yourself in a hug to control your reactions, it wasn't working. Your entire body was tense, as if your brain was struggling to choose between fight or flight, and the result was the tremors that seemed to spread through your system. "You have no right to do this to me! To play with me like this!"
"I'm not lying!" The shorter one retorted, and in an impulsive move, she grabbed you by the shoulder and forced you to turn until your gazes met. Tears were already streaming down your eyes like waterfalls, and your entire face seemed contorted in excruciating pain. Tara wished she could absorb all your hurt for herself. "I know I messed up, but I really love you!"
"You're toxic, Tara! That's what you are!" You shouted back with strength, holding the girl's gaze as if it were a challenge you needed to win. "You hurt me! And I was getting better, damn it, I was getting better away from you!"
"I know you were! I know! That's why I'm apologizing, okay? Because you're the best person I've ever met, and I ruined you like I ruin everyone! Because the best moments I've ever had were with you, and I feel like tearing my eyes out when I remember that I hurt you by being this way!"
"Tara..."
"No! Please let me finish." She rejected your interruption, taking the opportunity to relieve all the pain and guilt she felt inside her. "I'm getting treatment, okay? And I know you're not obligated to forgive me for anything, but I want you to know that I'm trying to be better for you! I'm trying to fix my shit to be someone you and Sam and the others can be proud of!"
"Tara..."
"And I know I hurt you a lot, but please don't doubt the love I feel for you because it's the only good thing left in me. I won't blame you if you never want to see me again, but..."
"TARA, GET DOWN!" You shouted, and before Tara could react, you were already pushing her toward the dusty wooden floor.
Everything was happening too fast for the Carpenter's mind to process. She hit the ground with a grunt of pain and a potential bruise on her arm, but she could see the exact moment when an arm covered in a black cloak descended toward your leg, making a deep cut in your thigh.
You screamed in pain, and Tara screamed next, watching your blood soak through the fabric of your pants and start dripping onto the floor. In a surge of adrenaline, the small girl ran to your side and almost reached for your arm when she was suddenly engulfed in a tight grip, with her two arms pinned to her back and a hand holding a knife to her neck.
She struggled against the masked person holding her, futilely trying to break free to get to you. Tears streamed so quickly down her face that she could taste the saltiness invading her senses. "Let me go! Y/N, run! Please, run!"
A sinister laugh reached her ears like the hiss of a snake. "Oh, Tara. Did you think it would be that easy?"
She recognized that distorted voice with effects all too well. She still heard it in her nightmares, calling her name in the dark. Ghostface was back. "I'm going to kill you, you motherfucker!"
"Oh, but I don't think so." The voice spoke in an amused tone as another killer, wearing the same mask and black cloak, approached your figure on the ground. Tara wailed like a banshee when the other pulled your hair forcefully, forcing you to stand up as he placed a knife on your neck.
She struggled a little more. "Leave her alone!"
"And where's the fun in that?" The ghostface holding her responded, almost as if they were laughing. "Come on, Tara. Weren't you the one who liked to release your anger by hurting Y/N? Why should only you have that privilege? Let's see, where was it that you got stabbed again?"
At the same time, as if reacting to a code, the ghostface holding you advanced in quick and precise movements, gripping you by the waist with one arm while thrusting the knife into you with the other, just above your kidney.
You let out another gasping scream as the blade pierced your skin, and Tara felt your body sagging as if you were about to collapse. She herself wanted to fall to her knees and plead for you to be released, but she couldn't. Whoever was holding her had great strength.
"Don’t you want her to feel the same pain you felt, huh, Tara? Don't want her to suffer what you suffered?" The voice continued to growl in her ear, sounding increasingly excited by the escalating violence. The knife on Tara's neck kept her head in place, so she couldn't look at anything other than your agony.
"No, I don't. Please, PLEASE." Tara pleaded with a tearful voice as another stab was delivered to you, this time in the center of your abdomen. Your shirt gradually turned into a pool of blood, and Tara feared you would faint at any moment.
"Tara..." You could barely pronounce her name, your voice choked and your own blood streaming down your lips. Tara's gaze met yours, and she shivered when you shook your head. She knew what that meant.
You looked feverish. Sweat and blood mingled on your skin, creating the most disturbing of the paintings. Your eyes were vacant, and Tara was so afraid they would close at any moment, never to open again.
And yet, with that nod of your head, Tara understood that your top priority at the moment was to make her understand that it wasn't her fault.
The girl's knees threatened to give up as the knife entered you one, two, three times. She shook her head but couldn't close her eyes because she needed to see you, needed to see that your eyes were still open, that you were still alive.
You couldn't die. You promised not to leave, even if everyone else did. You couldn't die. You couldn't die. You. Couldn't. Die.
"I love you. I'm sorry for loving you, I'm sorry," Tara whispered because she had no strength to speak louder. She felt on the verge of giving up and letting those maniacs do whatever they wanted with her. Nothing mattered anymore if you weren't here, and it was all her fault.
The ghostface holding her laughed with a deep voice. "You know, I could turn this into a Romeo and Juliet scene, but I think it would be more fun to kill you while Sam is watching."
With that, Tara felt her body being thrown backward, and she hit the dirty wooden floor again, this time landing with her head in a wound that would undoubtedly become a concussion.
She got up in a frenzied pace, in an adrenaline rush, thinking she could try to save you now that she was free. But, looking ahead, she realized she was outside the lobby’s door, and the maniac murderer already held the handles. Despite Tara's attempt to advance, the ghostface had already sarcastically waved and locked the doors, creating a deadly separation between you and herself.
Tara pounded on the hard wooden door, ignoring the pain in her knuckles. She hit and hit and hit, feeling cuts open on her skin and burn from the repetitive contact. She was crying, screaming, punching, cursing, doing things she couldn't even rationalize because it didn't matter anymore.
Nothing mattered anymore. Not without you.
She collapsed on the floor, tired, injured, and desperate for you. Her sobs echoed in the seemingly empty hallway, and she was too afraid to put her ear to the door and hear screams of pain like your last breath. Tara felt lost until she remembered that she was no longer trapped.
Rushing to reach the device in her pocket, she sighed in relief to find it unbroken. She pressed the button multiple times without a second thought. If she had a chance to maybe save your life, she would grab it without a doubt.
Tara remembered what she had thought before, how pressing that button might symbolize that she shouldn't be in your life. She stood up and leaned against the wall, trying to rid herself of the wave of nausea, and left the button hidden near the door. If help came following the signal, the first place they would look would be where you were.
If help came and you made it out alive, that was a promise. Tara would finally leave you alone. That's what you deserved.
---
Tara was almost sure she had developed a hospital phobia since the events of last year.
There was no other explanation for why she felt uneasy in that environment, even after they had taken all precautions for her. She still hated the white walls and the smell of chemicals and couldn't wait to get out of there.
For now, she decided to ignore this feeling and continued following Sam through the corridors of fluorescent lighting. It was important for her to stay inside until they finally found the doctor who could tell them what they wanted to know.
She checked her hands again, finding the tanned skin covered in some bandages but free from the mixture of her blood and Ethan's after she... lost control.
After she was separated from you, everything happened so fast that Tara could almost think it was all a delusion. All the revelations, the attacks, her adding another victim to her count, the police arriving... All of that had taken a back seat because nothing was more important than you.
It was as if her life had turned into a black and white movie in the moments she was without you. Everything felt colorless, purposeless. Fortunately, she was pulled out of her own spiral of melancholy when she saw you being taken out of the old movie theater on a stretcher by paramedics. She tried to get closer, but it was needed to give you space so that nothing touched your wounds and caused an infection.
Tara tried to go in the ambulance with you, but she and Sam were pulled for another checkup, and you needed to be rushed to a surgery room urgently if you wanted to have the slightest chance of survival. So, Tara let you go, but there was not a moment when you weren't on her mind.
That's why now, she desperately searched for your surgeon with Sam. No one seemed to know about your condition, and she already felt like tearing her hair out from anxiety. Tara just needed to know if you were at least breathing.
"Dr. Isley?" Sam called the attention of a red-haired doctor who was passing by them in a hurry. Tara sighed in relief that her sister was paying attention to her surroundings because her mind was in a completely different place. "We were informed that you performed emergency surgery on a family member. Her name is Y/n Y/L, admitted with multiple stab wounds."
"Oh, yes. Miss Y/L." The doctor replied in a professional tone, but there was impatiency all over her body language. "It was a difficult surgery, and she lost a lot of blood, but fortunately, no vital organs were hit. I won't lie, the recovery will be painful, but at least she survived the operation without any apparent severe collateral effects."
This was the best news Tara had heard in days. She opened a smile and didn't even try to hide her own happiness as she prolonged the conversation. "Is she in any room? Can we see her?"
"Miss Y/L is in room 604, but I'm afraid only one person is allowed in at a time to avoid any disturbance."
"No problem, we can take turns." Sam pointed between her and her sister. Despite seeming much calmer than the younger one, Tara knew Sam was just as relieved as she was to know that you were still alive.
"No, you didn't understand. There's already someone in Miss Y/L's room." Dr. Isley warned and, seemingly losing the rest of her patience, she began to walk away. "Sorry, but I have other patients to attend to."
The two Carpenter sisters looked at each other alarmed. Who could be in your room? Chad was still in his own surgery, Anika had gone to stay with Mindy while she received some stitches, and frankly, your parents had never been present enough to travel between states so quickly for your sake.
They walked down the corridor, moving as fast as possible without disturbing the other people being treated or working in the area. Tara's heart threatened to jump out of her mouth as she looked from door to door, searching for the numbering of your room. 601. 602. 603.
Tara stopped so abruptly at the door that she and Sam bumped into each other, their sneakers making noise against the shiny white floor. The simple door had a small window through which it was possible to see the inside of the room without necessarily entering. Tara looked inside, ready to break the handle and force her way in if necessary.
But it wasn't, because Tara Carpenter recognized exactly the girl sitting next to your bed, holding your hand gently and stroking your hair, even though you were sleeping. She remembered, with a tightness in her chest, that Kate Bishop would be notified the moment she pressed the button.
And, in her own words, she would come running to take care of you.
"Tara, who-"
"I have to go." Tara interrupted her sister's words, looking at the scene in front of her without blinking. She knew what she had to do; there was no reason to fight the facts.
"What? What do you mean? You just got here." Sam asked, partially annoyed and partially confused by the younger one's actions.
"You heard the doctor. Her recovery will be painful, and if I stay around, all I'll cause is more pain." Tara opened a small smile just to try to pretend that she wasn’t dying inside. She knew Sam could see the truth, that she could see her broken heart and internal conflict, but she also knew that was the only possible solution.
"Tara..."
"Sam, you know I'm right. You told me that yourself a few days ago, remember? I hurt her." The girl shook her head in surrender and took a few steps away from the door. Away from you. "She needs peace, Sam. And the only way she can get that now is if I'm not around."
Tara took one last look inside the room, seeing how peaceful you looked. Sleeping, without any worries, and with an incredible and caring person by your side, ready to help you in whatever you needed.
Someone much better than her.
Perhaps that was the first time Tara had made a selfless decision in a long time, but she didn't feel deserving of any credit for it. What she had to do now was get better. Maybe more entries in her journal and more visits to her therapist would eventually fill the void she felt within her.
For now, she just turned around and started walking away from room 604. Each step hurt, like a razor cutting her skin, but it was the right thing to do. Tara had hurt you for far too long, and now...
Now it was time to let you go.
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springwitch26 · 10 days
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flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)
summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.
warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL
notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚
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"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.
"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"
you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.
because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.
"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."
"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.
"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."
"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."
"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.
"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"
"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.
"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."
"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."
everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.
"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.
"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."
"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."
"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."
"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."
---
that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.
"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.
you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.
"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.
"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.
"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."
"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."
you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.
"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."
"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.
"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"
jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.
"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.
"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.
she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.
the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.
you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.
as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.
"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.
"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"
---
several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.
when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.
"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.
"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."
"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."
"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.
"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.
"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.
"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.
"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"
your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.
her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.
her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.
entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.
"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."
"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."
"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."
your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.
melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.
"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.
"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.
"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.
---
after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.
"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.
"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.
"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"
"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."
you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.
you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.
"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.
"may the best woman win."
---
how the hell was she so good at everything?
melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.
it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.
"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."
"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"
"what?"
"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.
"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.
you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.
3...
2... (you push down the gas pedal button)
1...
GO!!!
daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.
"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.
"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.
the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.
coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.
melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.
"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.
"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.
if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.
desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.
melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.
you were in her lap now.
her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.
"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.
if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.
you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.
she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.
"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"
it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.
"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"
you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.
"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.
you swallowed.
"would you let me do that?"
you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.
"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.
"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."
that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.
"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."
"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.
"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."
you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.
"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."
she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.
"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."
she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.
"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"
---
a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.
in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.
when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.
"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."
melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.
she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.
the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.
"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.
"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.
"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."
with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.
"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.
"but jacob—" you managed.
"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.
"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."
melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.
your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.
after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.
"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."
melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.
"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.
while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.
"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.
again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.
as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.
melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.
"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."
with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.
with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.
you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.
in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.
returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.
the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.
"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."
and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.
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websterss · 23 days
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 — 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: If there's one thing Caleb is scared of it's the color red and the devil.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): angst, some fluff, implications of smut, some making out
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3,604
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader
𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! This was one fic I lost when I made a new blog and was reposting my works. It's not exactly the same but I stuck to the same plot as best as I could.
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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You had caught Luke's eye as soon as he stepped out onto the floor. Many people flaunting and going amidst their night caught his attention. He felt that he and the guys were a little underdressed for the fancy club, but it had been your appearance alone that had you catching their eyes like flies. They were drawn to you in particular. Luke most of all, couldn't sway where his sights were directed towards.
"Hey boys, I'll be right back." He made to move past Reggie, his hand on his chest in passing but was stopped when Willie intersected him. Luke looked down at the hand that Willie pressed against his chest. He scoffed in amusement. "Where's the fire?"
"N-Nowhere, but there could be. I wouldn't recommend it. Not her. Y/n isn't someone you just go up and talk to." Willie's face fell with fear.
"Oh yeah, why's that? Is she important or something?" Luke laughed, but Willie wasn't finding Luke's advances towards you hilarious. "She off-bounds?"
"Yea- Yeah, she is in fact," Willie said nervously. After taking notice of Willie's shift in tone when he spoke of you, Luke's eyebrows furrowed with curiosity.
"What are you getting at, Willie? You seem protective." Luke questioned as he put two and two together. He was almost certain that Alex was Willie's crush, he didn't take him to swing both ways or had he simply misread him, that and the way he reacted just now…it seemed unprecedented. "I thought you liked Alex?" Luke crossed his arms.
"I do- It's not like that. Just- Just promise me you won't approach her. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you guys." Willie pleads.
Luke couldn't help but raise a brow, Willie was acting like she was some sort of monster. "A heartbreaker then, that's okay Willie. I've had my fair share of girls like her." He smiled boyishly. He reached up to slap Willie on his upper arm in reassurance. "Nothing's going to happen." Luke shrugged off Willie. Willie was being dramatic. The interest of doing something irrational intrigued him like a child who was told to not play with fire.
"Luke, I mean it. She's not even a regular. You won't see her that much. She's only ever here on business."
"Only ever here for business, huh?" Luke repeated curiously with an eyebrow up. "Then why can't I talk to her? What's gonna happen, Willie?" Luke wasn't one for following orders, that was not in his nature. He couldn't stand being told what not to do, it only made him crave what he wasn't meant to have or do even more. So, it was no mistake that Willie had made one just now. This little curiosity of Luke's was going to get the best of him. The way Willie made it sound like you did some kind of illicit activity intrigued him even more. "What, does she work for the mob or something?" He said half-jokingly with a brow lift. It was only natural to be enticed by a beautiful woman whom people were being tight-lipped about, it only made you seem more interesting and willing to know more about in his books.
"N-Nothing good." He muttered softly. "Why don't I show you guys to your table?"
"Yes, please!" Alex raised a finger, eager to move past Willie's sudden fear-stricken face.
"You guys go ahead. I'll be right back." Luke finally did move past Reggie and began making his way over to you.
"Luke, I wouldn't!" Willie exclaimed.
"I'm just gonna say hi." He turned to walk backwards as he faced him with a cheeky smile. Then turned as he approached the empty bar, beside you and the bartender giving you your drinks with shaky hands. That had him raising his brows with interest.
-
"Hi Marcus, long time no see." You flashed the man with a sweet smirk. Marcus's smile fell upon the realization you were sitting before the bar. He stopped cleaning the glass in his hands letting it fall to the ground with a smash. He winced at the sound of it breaking. He remained composed as your smile didn't let up. You were the mere image of innocence, you conjured up the identity of a teenage girl this time around. Last year you looked older, dressed up as a woman in a black dress, but this by far was his least favorite one on you, your childlike nature and appearance was scaring him shitless. Your soul was pure rotten, you by no means represented youth and innocence.
"Y/n." He dipped his head in greetings.
"I see Caleb still keeps you around." You tilted your head.
Because he knows I can keep you tranquil. He wanted to say but opted not to. "I'm the only one who can make a dirty cocktail." He lets out nervously.
"That you can, sweetie. Though I'm more in the mood for something sweet tonight, like you." You poke his sternum. Your sweet angelic laughter unsettles him, but he laughs along with you. Knowing Caleb would have his soul again if he made you angry.
"Perhaps a living soul?" He offered with a timid smile.
"Hell no, Lucifer knows I deal with too many of them back home as it is. Why on earth would I waste my time on one tonight? Though you do have a fair amount of them tonight..." You hum surveying the floor. You turned back to the bar. "How about a slushy, make it strong, and fruity." You order.
"So you're not here to collect a soul?"
"I have other matters to tend to Marcus. I've been getting screwed over you see. My bargain with your showman has not been followed down to the last letter, and I am not happy Marcus." You sigh. "I mean how stupid does Caleb peg me? Stealing souls from me." Your laughter darkens with every word that escapes you. "I am a woman of business, and I don't see my need to be tethered to one so insidious. You understand, Marcus?"
Marcus nods furiously. "Where's Willie? As of now, he's my new eyes and ears. Caleb still has his soul right? Of course, he does that's how he controls you all. If this gets out to Caleb sweetie, I'll be the one to devour that pure soul of yours." You raise a brow in question gesturing to his chest. Marcus nods and snaps his fingers. Your requested drink appearing before you. You raised the glass to your lips and let your shoulders drop. "This is why I love you, Marcus."
"Am I no longer your eyes and ears?"
"No." You could see Marcus's disappointment flash in his eyes. "You've been upgraded to my personal assistant."
Marcus felt honored. "Oh wow. Does this mean I don't have to be behind the bar anymore?"
"Only when we come to the club, but other than that..." You snap your fingers nonchalantly. Caleb's stupid stamp floated off of Marcus's wrist. The poor man looked as though he'd cry.
He did.
"Consider it a gift, sweetie. That's all you're gonna get...really." You shrug. You didn't like getting too sentimental with others. Marcus palmed his mouth. Covering it to muffle his cries. You looked around hopefully no one was watching the scene unfold before you. You shrink in your stool and take another sip of your drink. You took another gulp of your drink, enjoying the flavor it had, it was indeed what you had asked for.
"Marcus." You called his name softly when the tears finally stopped flowing. "Look at me." Marcus's head raised and eyes widened with fear once again. "Stop, please."
"S-Sorry. I'm good, I'm good." You nodded with him, your eyes widened with concern. "Thank you..." He muttered softly.
"Sure." You laughed out nervously wanting his hands off you. “Marcus.” You spoke sternly this time which brought him to pay attention and made him stop touching you. “How about another drink, yeah.” You shifted the mood, hoping to reassure him by taking his mind off of being freed by you. "Surprise me this time."
"Yes- Yes, right away." He composed himself as best he could and began to make your new drink.
Luke's gaze was fixated on the bartender's shaky hands, having caught the last of your conversation with him before he grew close. It was something that caught his attention to no end. A burning hole in his brain as he wondered why you had such an effect on people, good and bad. He wanted to know more about you. So he sat on the stool right beside you.
He turned towards you; his hands were resting on the counter, as he tapped along to the melody playing throughout the club. Luke's gaze met yours, raising a brow as he took notice that you were eyeing him. It made him a little self-conscious, but he hid that fact with an amused smirk.
"Nice shoes." His grin brightened. "I'm more of a vans guy myself but I think it's time I make a drastic brand change." Luke turned in the stool, next to the very pretty girl, who looked completely out of place. Your leather jacket and dark blue denim, not to mention your incredibly red shoes, didn't fit the club's dress code.
You peered over the glass in your hand. Your eyes narrowed curiously at the curly-haired stranger who unashamedly sat in the vacant seat next to yours. Surely he had to be pulling your hair. When you saw no falter in his charming smile, you played along. Hoping to amuse the poor lad unaware of the person you were, of your identity. Most would cower at the sight of you but his lack of knowledge told you all you needed to. He was clueless...and a pretty sight. You set your drink down and smirk, turning your full self towards him.
"Thanks. I had them dyed with the blood of the damned." You stuck your leg out, tilting your head in admiration of your shoes.
Your brows pinched closer together upon his laugh. You were confused by his reaction, what had been so funny? You were being your most sincere.
He snickered again, trying hard not to laugh, in fear of offending you. He let out another brief laugh, trying his best not to lose it. It was the way your words so casually rolled off your tongue that got him. He smirked. "Damned you say. Does that mean that you had to damn them yourself or were they already damned and you just decided to take advantage of the opportunity." He joked around, though curiosity filled his mind as he wondered what your answer would be. He sure wasn't expecting your sweet angelic tune that escaped you as a response. Your head fell back. Marcus stilled, looking at the new stranger who caused such a reaction from you and then at you. Was this a stroke you were having and he was completely unaware? He opted to join in, his fake laughs weren't noticed by you luckily.
He eyed Luke as though he put the moon in the sky. He got you to laugh. Completely unheard of.
Luke felt satisfied. His grin widened as he softly joined in on your bubbled display of joy. "I mean they do make killer shoes. I kind of want some now." He shrugged with half interest.
Marcus finally released a stifled laugh. The poor man was holding it in, not knowing where you two would take the conversation. "I can't say I've ever had the urge to wear shoes made of human blood," He spoke in an attempt to keep the energy at bay.
"Well," Luke started, "they're rather fashionable, right? I mean, I know leather clothing is still in style, you're perfectly on top of that trend already." He joked back casually. You felt something strange in your chest as he raked his eyes up and down your entirety. "All I'd be missing is the shoes..." He bit his lip.
"Yeah?" You looked back at him amused. "You want a pair?"
"Why not?" He entertained the idea.
"What is happening?" Marcus mouthed in shock.
What was happening indeed? Didn't he know who you were? His lack of fear was the most shocking part of this whole interaction. Surely he wasn't one of Caleb's newest edition of collected ghosts. Another soul he had taken, or made Willie lure him in to take it while he's blindsighted by the pretty picture Caleb paints for him. For once you wanted to lay your claim on a soul. To rub it in Caleb's face for stealing your portion of the bargain. You extended your hand out to him and asked him what any wise girl would do. You asked for his name.
"I'm Luke." He took your hand gently. Unaware of the marking you placed under his skin. Your bargains, your markings, were more subtle than Caleb's, where he wanted to show them off, you kept yours hidden behind a mere handshake. Along with the idea of never actually telling them you had done so.
"Pleasure." Your grip on his hand remained firm and tight as your eyes searched his own. You could already envision Caleb brewing with envy once he sees you and Luke engaging in a friendly, and dare you say romantic conversation. Luke didn't appear to know the full truth of what was going on. He appeared to be so blindly curious and unaware. So you went ahead and lit a spark to that curiosity as you pressed a finger to the back of his hand, caressing the length of it.
"Luke," you said slowly, testing it out. The name sounded nice; it rolled off your tongue perfectly. Luke, Luke, Luke. He would be your plaything for tonight, perhaps another time as well should you choose to extend that privilege. You felt a tinge of regret for marking a soul as pure as his, you could feel his warmth the second he sat down, but that was soon washed away with his charming grin; it made you want to make him break his moral barriers all the more. He seemed so different from the others, he was your next perfect leverage on Caleb. "I'm Y/n." You leaned forward, Luke's eyes falling in a daze at your sultry voice and doe eyes.
"Y/n..." He breathed out, mesmerized.
"Marcus I want a private space." You turned to the poor lad who was still stunned that this one guy alone was able to sweeten you down like honey. Get on your good side in the blink of an eye. "Now!"
-
Willie had paced back and forth, going over what he would say to Caleb as he waited for him at the bottom steps of his dressing room. When the man of the hour finally descended the steps Willied perked up.
"Oh hey um, Caleb." He smiled. "I brought those ghosts I met, um it's still cool they're here right?"
"Of course William! I even reserved a special table for them." Caleb shrugged him off nonchalantly.
"Woah! Uh alright, um thank you!" Willie reeled back, not expecting him to do something so nice.
"No, no, thank you!" Caleb sipped at his tea and watched as Willie made his way to leave but turned the wrong way.
"That way!" Willie laughed as he turned to go in the right direction this time.
"Hey William, while I have you here. Make sure to let me know when Y/n has arrived. I need a least half an hour to ready myself before her arrival."
"Oh, Y/n? She's already here." Willie shook his head confused, hadn't he known?
Certainly not, it appeared.
"What!" Caleb screeched, making Willie to flinch. The cup in his hands clattered onto the steps. Willie shrunk in on himself as Caleb berated him. "You useless monkey, why do I even keep you around? Oh my god, I'm not even dressed. Quick go make sure she gets everything she wants. Hopefully not my soul...Whatever she wants give it to her. A lifer's soul, it's hers. I don't care. I need to go look presentable. Go!" Willie straightened out as he walked away from Caleb's dressing room with haste. Caleb ordered staff to make sure you remained in a good mood. He was late, you had been earlier than expected and he was about to lose his shit.
-
When Caleb dispersed from the dancers and band, you had rolled your eyes as he made his entrance past the golden curtain.
He gulped nervously when his eyes danced back and forth between you sitting back on the sofa, and Luke kissing down your neck like a lovesick puppy. You hadn't stopped his attack on your skin. Caleb straightened out, clearly his throat to make his presence known.
"I don't like being kept waiting, Caleb, I have better things to do." Your voice broke in soft breaths as Luke found your sweet spot.
"Y/n, nice to have you back my sweet. We've missed your presence at the club and I-"
"Don't patronize me, ghost." You rolled your head back against the cushion.
"Ah, I see you've found our special guest of the night." He laughed nervously. "Have we bored you already, the night has only just begun." Caleb was thankful he didn't have to find you in a much more compromising situation. As he watched your hand run through Luke’s hair, a pang of emotion rose in him, jealousy? Anger? Regret? He felt his emotions bubble over as he watched Luke's lips meet your collarbones, his hands running down your back to your waist. Caleb bit his lip to keep an audible curse from escaping his lips.
You smirked, he was lucky that Luke wasn't getting too ahead of himself, but seeing how things were playing out at the moment it wouldn't take much for Luke to slip. Your attention turned back to him once Luke's lips had moved elsewhere on your body.
"Caleb, how stupid do you think I am?" Your question had caught him off guard.
He was speechless for a few moments before he regained his composure. He laughed a bit in your face. "Y/n, it's obvious," He took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. "He's a soul I promise to you in our deal. I got two more waiting on you out on the floor."
Luke's head dropped lower to your chest, his kisses stooping lower down your blouse. Caleb's eyes narrowed at the sight.
"Luke's already mine." You sigh in contentment. "I meant about the souls you’re taking for yourself, Caleb."
"What of them?" Caleb's face remained emotionless. He kept his arms crossed while your head was nuzzled into Luke's neck, you were barely holding on to the conversation while your chest had been preoccupied with Luke's hot breaths. His hands slide up and down your body.
"You can't even deny you've broken our bargain." You reminded him, your mind clouded with the sensation of his kisses. "You know what happens when people cross me, Caleb." You giggled as your breath hitched with every word spoken. You placed a hand over Luke's curls to stop him from continuing his kisses down your torso, his lips rested on your chest instead.
"Surely, we can work something out." He begins softly.
"I don't think so." You spoke plainly, your eyes finally focusing on Caleb. Your hands placed on the back of the sofa, you were feeling a bit confident and sassy, something Caleb hadn't seen for a good while, not with him at least. You sit up causing Luke to fall off you. You grip his chin gently and turn his face towards Caleb. You watch as the ghost shrinks back into the shell of the man that he is as Luke's gorgeous brown eyes flash red at him.
You staked your claim on him. "You touch the other two, and this all goes away." You gesture to the room, to the entirety of the club. "I’m going to need Willie's soul by the strike of midnight. Poor thing needs a break from you seeing as you can't do your job properly. He's mine until I say so. You understand, Caleb." You recline back into the cushion.
"Yes ma'am." He nods, feeling like a child being scolded.
"You can see yourself out now. It's like you said; the night is only getting started." Your angelic laugh is one for his nightmares. Not to mention your red eyes. You hold his gaze as you push down on Luke's curls, his body sinking to the carpet before you. "You might not want to stay around for this next part Caleb. Wouldn't want to traumatize you as it is." Caleb gasps and turns in place of the sound of your zipper being pulled.
Caleb's jaw went slack. His head tilted to the side. He tried hard to hide his surprise, but he wasn't sure what he should have said in this occurrence. "Right… I will be leaving. Enjoy yourselves." He uttered stiffly. Caleb retreated out of the room.
Luke's warm hands gripped your thighs, squeezing them slightly. His lips moved back up to your neck. His fingertips trailed lightly along your collarbone, his breath hot, you could feel his blood rushing. Once you were sure Caleb was out of earshot you pulled Luke up by the collar of his shirt.
"What's wrong?" Luke's dazed-out look had you feeling a smidge of guilt. "I thought we were having fun?" He breathed out a laugh as he tried to lean in to kiss you.
"It's not that kind of business, baby. Another time." You gripped his chin and sweetly placed a kiss on his lips. 
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lingerina · 3 months
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝐎𝓥𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐈𝓥𝐄 - yu jimin
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␥ karina x fem!reader ␥ 916 words 🚨 choking, overstimulation, dacryphilia (?), praise ␥ you swore to never work for a rideshare app again but getting laid off leaves you no choice. you end up becoming someone’s getaway driver, not realizing you’re in for way more than you bargained for. ␥ A/N inspired by this ask (and reblogs) from ages ago. also could be read as (sort of?) optional bias since i realized i never used her name here. 🧍🏻‍♀️ and it took me this long to write for my bias? 🤪
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You never wanted to go back to Uber but after being laid off and having bills due soon, you had no choice.
You earned the most when you drove around the airport, downtown, and during late-night hours, which were windows to some of the craziest things you’ve previously experienced as a driver. You’ve gotten caught up in a drug deal and bank heist before, which was why you swore to never be an app driver again.
Every ride, you hoped that your passengers were normal law-abiding citizens who just needed a ride to the local market or something. Fortunately, they had been.
Until you made the mistake of driving off with a passenger who wasn’t the one that ordered a ride from you.
She had run up to your car—impressively in heels—and slammed the door shut as if she was being chased, shouting for you to drive off before you even get a chance to confirm you’re picking up the right person. Meeting her sharp eyes in your rear view mirror startled you into stepping on the gas because in the pit of your guts, you were uncertain if you were in harm’s way again and ignoring her might actually put your life on the line.
The ride had been silent, your actual passenger that you’d driven past being one of the only two thoughts crossing your mind after you had hovered a shaky hand over your phone, that’s mounted to the air vent, to cancel her request. You didn’t know where you were driving, and you couldn’t accept any other ride that were popping up on your app. There were more red areas on the map, indicating major activity and hefty tips that you could’ve gotten your hands on had you refused to let the mysterious raven-haired beauty in your car.
She stared out the window for what felt like hours. She didn’t utter a word and you were too afraid to ask questions. You aimlessly drove around, hoping she would finally say something and end this torture.
When she abruptly met eyes with you in the mirror again, you startled.
You tried to break the ice and asked for her destination, but what followed was more silence, a sudden request to park in the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse, and two-word commands for you to step out and join her in the backseat where she ended up breaking you.
You’re seated on her lap with your back pressed against her chest and her hand wrapped around your throat. Taunting words brush over your ear, inducing a chill that ripples down your spine as three of her fingers are inside you. Your body horribly betrays you as your car echoes with the filthy squelches of your dripping pussy and your cries as she violates you.
Nonetheless, you part your legs wider and buck against her hand, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from your morals dissipating and your desire to be broken burning. With your leggings torn at your crotch and bearing the stains of your pleasure, you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess for a gorgeous stranger who may or may not be dangerous.
She squeezes tighter, her well-manicured nails threatening to pierce the soft skin of your throat, a low praise of ‘good girl’ uttered at the shell of your ear threatening the sliver of sanity you have left. You catch your breath when she releases her grip, which moves down your clavicle to tear at the collar of your tee. She yanks at your bra, unveiling your breast for the palm of her hand, and kneads in tandem with the pace of her fingers.
Your head lolls back over her shoulder, hoarse moans polluting your once-silent vehicle as she fucks you harder. Tension grips at your limbs, your toes curling as her curled digits reach that spot. The spot where you need her most.
“Come on, baby,” she purrs with a sly smirk. “Give it to me.”
You oblige on cue. Your eyes roll back as you soil her hand in the midst of ecstasy, your wetness dirtying her dress, her lap, and the back of the seat. She didn’t spare you mercy before, and she’s definitely not sparing you now.
She toys with you until you think you’ve given her your all. As soon as you fall limp, she slips back inside you and you swiftly ascend to your brink once more, the sensitivity blurring your vision with white dots as you gush all over her. 
She refuses to let you recuperate. Just when you think it’s over, she makes her unwelcome return, her expert fingers repeatedly bringing you to ecstasy like a broken film. She gets off on your tears and pleas because they’re a stark contrast to you squirting all over her and dirtying your car in the process. When she’s had her fill, she shifts you off her lap like a discarded toy and finally steps out without a word, leaving you alone in the abandoned parking lot.
With the silence and post coital clarity setting in, you sit up straight and stare at the mess you made. You don’t need a mirror to know that you do not look presentable to customers at all.
Fortunately, it’s still early in the morning. You can rush home, clean yourself and your car up, and still have a whole day to earn money.
You just hope that you don’t have another potentially dangerous or salacious run-in again.
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dante-mightdie · 10 months
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thinking about mafia!simon… minors dni!
mafia!simon x female!reader
pt. 2 here!
warnings: little bit nsfw, slight illusion to sex at end, mentions of violence and weapons, mentions of illegal activity, simon gets jealous
i was gonna write nsfw but couldn’t be bothered but let me know if you want it and I’ll write it 👀
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thinking about you being his cute little assistant…
simon wearing black slacks and black button up shirts…
silver rings and… hear me out… a silver chain…
arms, chest and legs are covered in tattoos…
you organise all of his meetings, make sure his files are organised, arrange his flights and hotels when he needs to travel for ‘business’…
owns a club where he conducts shady meetings in the vip lounge…
still wears the mask all the time, only a handful of people have seen his face…
people are terrified of him… you’ve heard all the stories of all the nasty and violent things he’s done to people who fuck him over…
you’ve watched him petrify his men when they come to him with problems…
cussing them out and screaming at them for being so damn incompetent and to get the fuck out of his face before he pulls his brass knuckles out…
imagine… simon… with brass knuckles…
simon has never been unkind to you… not once…
even when you make mistakes and you look at him with glossy doe eyes, apologising profusely…
he just gives you a gruff, “s’alright, lovie. didn’t do it on purpose did ya?”
how could he ever get mad at his pretty assistant who always makes sure he has eaten and makes his tea exactly how he likes it…
how could he ever get mad when you smile so softly at him when you greet him everyday…
giving him a gentle, “good morning, mr riley…” everyday whilst he slyly checks out your ass in the tight black skirt you were wearing…
so how else is he supposed to react when his head bartender, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish begins flirting with you every time you stop by the club to give something to simon…
is he supposed to stand there like some sort of idiot whilst soap talks about how pretty your hair looks today, and how you should let him take you out for a drink sometime, or when he looks down your shirt with little to no shame…
he’s fuming when he realises that you didn’t jot down any of the important notes from his meeting because you were too busy smiling and blushing at that idiot behind the bar…
so he decides to call you over to his penthouse for a ‘job chat’ as he called it…
you use your key to get into simon’s big luxurious home and you see him sat on his sleek black sofa, legs spread wide with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of bourbon in the other…
“good evening, mr riley… I hope I’m not late-“…
“sit.” is all simon says when he cuts you off…
you sit down in silence and watch as simon finishes his drink and stands to pour himself another…
“I like to think I’m a fair boss when it comes to you, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he asks
“of course, sir… I hope I haven’t-“
“I don’t make you work unreasonable hours, I make sure you’re driven to and from work, I pay you well, I’ve never yelled or been disrespectful towards you. Is that fair to say, love?”
You nod your head, gulping nervously…
“so, how do you think it feels when my assistant decides to ignore her duties to flirt with another man?”
you look up at simon through your lashes… you can’t tell if he’s jealous or genuinely upset with you…
“mr riley… please, forgive me… I’ll work extra hard to prove-“
simon walks up to you, gripping your jaw tightly to get you to stop talking…
“I think there’s another way that pretty little mouth can apologise to me, don’t you, lovie?”
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