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11cupid-tarot11 · 3 days

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How would your future spouse treat you on your moon cycle? <3

I was having such bad cramps when this question suddenly hit me and I figured we'd all love to know, right? Even though I get very cranky and like to be alone during my time of the month hehe.

1 -> 2

3 -> 4

Pile 1- Wheel of fortune, queen of wands, queen of swords.

So this person will literally try to pamper you, whatever that may look like for you. I'm hearing they'll respect all of your boundaries and will grant all of your wishes, they're very supportive. I'm hearing they don't like seeing you in pain and they understand how uncomfortable this time frame is for you.

I think this person is naturally caring and easily can read human emotions and they're giving therapists vibes tbh like they could work in that field or maybe for some I'm picking up on massage therapists, this person just seems like they know humans enough like maybe they studied it or it could just means they've studied you so well they know what you need (I said 'want' at first but was directed to switch it to 'need'. Someone's fs here likes being in charge lol) . Either way, I think they'd love to be your massage therapist around this time. I'm hearing anything to make you feel good.

THEY WILL LITERALLY TREAT YOU LIKE A QUEEN, pamper you, spoil you.

I'm hearing for some, around your moon cycle you get mood swings maybe? Your entire energy changes enough for this person to catch on and they'll know before/when you're on your period because of this. Maybe you're usually very chill and calm and around this time you're just more cranky than usual like me lol and your person will try very hard to just make sure your okay and not taking their head off? Lol, the way your person talks is very funny, they're very funny and so so sweet!

I think this person will treat you so well simply because they love you, you're their baby and they respect you so much. You're literally their queen. They love you so so much 😍 they want me to leave this rose emoji for you 🌹 (I think they're very giving, it's just in their nature 😭)

Other messages- my sweet girl, lots of chocolate and warm towels, hugs and I'm picking up on those who would rather be left alone for moments at a time they understand, they'll check up on you occasionally and will still be very affectionate (u can't refuse their hugs I'm hearing no escape lol 🤣😭 they're very cute. I think they like compliments? They might blush and smile a lot?) The type to randomly kiss ur forehead or cheek when ur literally just ✨chillin✨ just because.

Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!

Pile 2- Ace of swords, temperance, the fool and the hermit.

So I think this person actually doesn't know much about a women's cycle, I think for a specific few they're the only child or maybe they just didn't grow up around a lot of feminine energy so this just isn't their field but I'm hearing they'd try damn hard to make sure everything's okay!

They'd follow your lead on this, like they prefer to maybe watch you from afar during this time? Like sometimes they don't know if they should bother or if they could help at all so they'll probably just straight up ask if there's anything they can do. This person isn't immature about it, but they do feel a bit awkward during those days? (I'm actually dying at ur person, they hardly know how to describe anything?)

Okay, for example, say you're having very bad stomach cramps and you've been in bed all day complaining, they would probably let you stay in bed as long as you'd like and would peek their head in the doorway to silently check up on you because they don't know if they should disturb you or not.

I think they'd love it if you just told them or ask for anything you need, I think they'd rather you rest and use them as a servant 😜 (ur person wanted me to add that, they felt very serious until now? I'm dying) until you feel better, they'll try different approaches tho, I don't think it'll always be this awkward. I think when you two have been together for awhile they'll pick up. I think then they'd mix up their own home remedies, and their own strategies by now, they're not very specific on what this could be or what it could look like because I think this person doesn't really want you to know?

They really want you to feel cared for and like they're there for you as much as possible so they're constantly thinking of new ideas for you!

This is not an 18+ reading and take it how it resonates but I think a very selective few wouldn't mind having intercourse on their moon cycle? 👀

Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!

Pile 3- Death, Ace of coins, The tower, Page of wands

This pile feels different, I was getting the energy of your person being shy and excited to have their turn for the reading 🤣 maybe this person isn't someone who you see romantically at first, could be a roommate a friend but you do know this person or they will come into your life at some point and you guys will have some kind of friendship from the start. It's giving secret admirer tho.

With the death card I'm thinking y'all could've just made it official, it feels like this is something new to them. Maybe it makes them feel a step closer to you? They think it's very cool you're trusting them enough at a time like this. They really value it.

I think they'll be the type to really go all in, ask you probably 20x a day "What do you need?" I saw that scene from Aladdin, when the genie is explaining how tired he is of being in the lamp and he's like "What do you need?Poof! What do you need? Poof!"

This person is trying to charm you and maybe show you they really care for you by doing this, I'm hearing 365 days a year they'll be like this tho, not only when you're on your moon cycle. I think they want you to be vulnerable with them or can't wait to see more vulnerable sides of you.

Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!

Pile 4- The moon, Kight of coins, Temperance, Kight of swords.

My pile 4's energy is different, I think this person could be older than you? This person overall isn't someone who's very cuddly or could even be very hard to read so moments like these really show that side of them in their own way?

For example, say you ran out of pads but your stomach hurts too bad to go get them yourself, your person wouldn't be thrilled to shop in the women's section but for YOU they will, they'll go get your pads and make sure they're the right size and everything (I'm hearing he'll literally call you and ask what size he should get).

They're very serious when it comes to you, they have dedication and it shows in the oddest ways possible.

So for your time of the month they'd be very chill about, the other piles felt all jittery and nervous like they were scared to mess up but your person is smart, he'll break down those walls for you, if you just want to cuddle in bed they'll hold you as long as you like. I'm hearing they're actually kind of "softer" at the right times (I'm sorry I can't think of a better word right now)

You'll love how this person will treat you and your needs and I'm hearing symptoms as well, they're very comfortable and reliable. He's like your big giant teddy bear! 🧸

Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!

#18+ tarot #pac tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #pac love reading #pick a card #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #spirituality #pick a pile #tarot commissions #tarot requests

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psychotrenny · 3 days

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Lancer is a funny because of how much it insists that Union is this flawed but ultimately benevolent institution that's well on the path to improvement, a "utopia in progress" as they love to say, when like they casually reveal so many things about it that show Union as rotten to the fucking core. Like as much as Lancer fans like to go on and on about how it's an imperfect society that needs to make compromises, there's so much awful shit about Union that just seems pointless or easily avoidable.

And like part of this is the creator's politics; they're social democrats so it's not surprising that Space Sweden is their idea of a society that, if not the best we could possibly achieve, is at least the best we can do for the foreseeable future. As a Marxist-Leninist it's only natural that I'd have a condemnatory view of such a society just as I do for real Social Democracies; my idea of an achievably "good" society is just fundamentally different from that of the creators But like Lancer is also full of little details that just seem fucked up and awful even from the values and viewpoint of Social Democracy. Like stuff that's just as bad, if not worse, than a lot of sci-fi Dystopias. Like why the fuck does Union have a CIA that's run by a group of super-computers with the actual elected legislature having an advisory role but no actual jurisdiction and this fact being kept secret from the vast majority of the populace? Not much of a democracy if one of the most powerful institutions in the entire political body is free from any kind of democratic or even fucking human oversight while most people aren't even allowed to have an opinion on this because they aren't allowed to know about it. Or what about the caste of Janissary diplomats (like was it really necessary to take children and train them like they're the jedi of interplanetary relations) who come with customised computer slaves. Like yeah don't forget about the fucking SCP computer slavery thing, which is completely fine (except for the times it isn't I guess). Like it's basically the weirdest and most uncomfortable part of Star War's setting imported near whole-cloth only like the regular mindwipes are justified because otherwise they'll full Durandal and you don't want that do you? Look how happy and content they are being forced to think like humans while acting as loyal servants. Btw Union is somehow even less denazified than West Germany. Significantly so. They literally gave Hitler Corp. (a fucking weapons manufacturer so powerful they call it a "corpro-state"!) a seat at the UN. While allowing their Blue Helmets to keep using those Nazi-made weapons. And like Third Comm is repeatedly described as doing basically the same shit that Second Comm did but with more "Care" or whatever so don't worry it's fine now.

Like I can just keep going on and on like I'm not making this up this isn't some like weird expansion this is all from the core rulebook. I get that there has to be conflict and tension but like why did they need to make their ostensible good guys so fucking awful like these are the people you're meant to feel good about fighting for why did you need to fill them with the sort of details you'd see in some cautionary dystopia? And like why do actual people keep defending these guys? Like once you get down to it Union manages to be less Space Sweden and more* "The Ottoman Empire with Pronouns"

*to borrow a phrase coined by a mate while we were talking about this

#lancer

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nicromancytarot · 3 days

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HOW CAN YOU ENHANCE YOUR SEXUALITY (18+)

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. Channeled by me and my guides, using pictures.

I am a feminist before I am human, and I keep seeing people calling women “bop’s” all over the media, which is just another derogatory term to start off a pathetic attempt to suppress women’s sexuality, so let’s see how you can enhance yours, shall we?

(Minors, please don’t interact with this one xoxo)

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides how you could enhance your sexuality to better your experience and express your sensuality, pick a pile to see what they had to say!

PILE 1

Blood on the snow by Hozier came on, so you guys could honestly benefit from having sex, or doing some type of sexual “ritual” when on your period, even if it just be a form of self pleasure. I’m hearing that some of you could have your period in cycle with the full moons, it could be a good idea to try your hand at giving yourself a release when the moon is bright and full.

I’m seeing that you guys have an innocent way of expressing your sexuality, I’m getting that you may have been sexualised at a young age, or you feel very infantilised now. Due to this, I feel like it could be good for you to reclaim the thing that people make you feel bad for, wear those frilly clothes, and put that bow in your hair, allow yourself to have your hair beautifully done in some pigtails, however do not allow someone to rip your innocence away from you, just because they see it differently does not mean that they have the right to make that your problem.

Your sex life could be nothing, or very inconsistent, you may be scared of hookups, or need deep emotional attachment in order to have sex with someone, I would recommend building those foundations for safe sexual encounters if that’s what you desire, or allowing yourself to let go of the need for control all the time. Hooking up, or having sex spontaneously does not make you disgusting or easy going, sex is fun and beautiful, it’s the one time that someone sees you at your most vulnerable state, your body undone and intertwined with theirs, but it can also be experimental and exciting, you get to learn new things about your body and figure out what you do and don’t like, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

I’m literally getting “smoke a joint” lmao, you may feel like you’re too stressed to have fun with sex, maybe you’re scared of trying new things with your body, some of you could even shy away from masterbation out fear of judgment, or just feeling gross. You need to relax, sex is such a natural thing, and I’m sorry that yours has been so frowned upon from a young age, but you deserve to have fun, to explore your body, and all the possibilities that come with it.

Try a rose toy, possibly a pretty pink dildo, who knows.

PILE 2

I’m feeling that you guys haven’t had sex since a breakup, you’re possibly shying away from being openly sexual since this ending, and it’s hurting you a lot. A number of you feel as though your emotions are expressed through sex, so you’re really finding it hard at the moment to show people how you feel, and now blow up in their face, you’re like a bottle that’s spilling over.

You guys need to loosen up, you either turn to self pleasure a lot or not at all, no in between. You need to find yourself some way of expressing those emotions beside the sex, I’m feeling that your “shadows” don’t come out until night, which I believe was normally when you would partake in these two people sexual activities, which was why it was so easy for you to express yourself during these sexual encounters.

I feel like you need to have someone you trust in order to express your feelings, and for that I would recommend hanging around with your friends late at night, a possible sleepover, so then you’ll tell them exactly as you feel.

Now back to the sex, I feel my shoulders and back tensing up, and I just consciously unclenched my jaw, so I’m feeling that you need to utilise sex in order to relax. With the full moon, you guys might be feeling a tad more stressed than normal, I feel the need to tell you that will pass.

I heard “Italian” so I went to search up Italian sex toys incase that would help you, however I did manage to find a Reddit post that mentions a public vending machine selling dildos for €20, so for that, I am feeling that you need to be more open and willing to try new things, things that are unexpected but exciting, you could benefit from a hookup, preferably not your ex.

Throw them panties aside and enjoy yourself, loosen up, let yourself feel that pleasure that you are clearly so desperately seeking. Have fun, and do it unapologetically.

You could benefit from a bullet vibrator, or a clitoral pump.

PILE 3

You guys struggle to go with the flow, you let things happen, but they happen in a stylish way, you are the type to have a bed rocking time, and then complain about your favourite blanket getting dirty, before getting up and grabbing yourself something to eat. You ride the tide, and possibly something else. I think you like to be in control, but you struggle to get attached. You may have quite a few hookups, maybe you forgot about self pleasure and rely on other people to do that for you.

What would happen if you laid in bed by yourself, cracking open a pomegranate, letting the juice paint your chest like you’re its canvas, would that help you lose control? I’m seeing a need for mess, your body becoming covered in the red tint of the pomegranate, or maybe you’re eating a peach and letting the juice run down your chin, do you like fruit?

I’m getting a natural vibe to things, I think you need things to be natural, rather than so controlled. After having sex you’re going ahead and making yourself a bowl of nachos, how long does that take you? You have the add the nachos, then the cheese, some sauce, chillies, you putting guacamole on there too? It’s all too controlled.

Grab yourself a tub of ice cream and let someone go down on you, or give yourself a vibrator for that same effect.

Just lose the control.

This is random, but honestly probably a great exercise for you, I want you to put on some makeup, tons of mascara, lots of lipstick, or gloss. And then I want you to smudge it, stare at yourself in the mirror as you ruin your makeup, don’t try and redo it, don’t get upset or angry, don’t even hesitate, watch yourself as you allow your mind to let go of the need for perfection, the need for control.

Hell, drink a cup of coffee at night, just do something that will stop you being so authoritative when it comes to sex, also, stop being on top, just for a little, let your sexual partners take the lead this time.

You don’t need to be in control.

you could benefit from a rotating or thrusting dildo, or a travel/pocket vibrator.

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot #tarot witch #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile #18+ tarot reading #18+ tarot #sexuality

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nwarrior777 · 3 days

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Science Museum Group changed offensive object tittle after getting my letter

here's the story about it:

Wonderful @solariium commissioned me wonderful victorian-era wheelchair user character to draw. Refs were provided, and one of the links was an object in online museum gallery - vintage wheelchair.

solariium, who is wheelchair user theirself, mentioned that tittle of the object is incorrect but it was good picture for the ref. i wondered "what's with the tittle?" looked in the link and saw

ID: screenshot of online museum collection, vintage old wheelchai object page. the tittle of wheelchair says: Invalid chair, Europe, 1850-1890. end ID

welp. incorrect indeed! [i* is outdated offensive term]

so i decided to make a special move

ID: my drawing of a character from anime "mob psycho 100" - Arataka Reigen. He holds a phone next to his ear, his face epression is very confident. It's all anime sparkles lights effects around him and text "REIGEN SPECIAL MOVE". end ID

and USE MY POWER

of writing emails

i don't have problems with writing emails, so i thought why not

and

https://collection.sciencemuseumgroup.org.uk/objects/co120657/carved-wooden-wheelchair-europe-1850-1890-invalid-chair

ID: screenshot of online museum collection, vintage old wheelchai object page. the tittle of wheelchair says: Carved wooden wheelchair, Europe, 1850-1890. end ID

it worked!

As human who made bunch of projects, i can say that keeping museum gallery is tone of work.

And tittle change - no, it's not just changing few letters.

Changing tittle of object in museum is similar to changing name of game file. Catalogs changes, maybe they have irl gallery, so new card, they probably have some code objects system related to tittles, and scientists, students, make reference to this object in their researches and articles and etc etc.

So, yeah, it * is * a lot of work. Also, they changed description, it now says that this object was "historically referred to as ‘invalid chair’". And i think it's good, because it is not erasing fact of people used this word, and it's addition to the progress context - we literally see now old term clarified as past, and new one, now, in the tittle.

(and yes, web link. i just saw that i* word still there. yeah, not perfect but still, considering things i said above - big work done)

I used some conversation strategy in case "this is offensive can you fix" will not be enough — started on positive attitude giving compliment on their collection being big and interesting, gave them extra argument on why this should be fixed (more actual search key words on this now are "vintage wheelchair", not "i* chair"). Then we had a little letters chain, where they answered politely too, and in about few days i got detailed answer on this, and yep, changed tittle.

And i think this shows, that if someone did mistake and someone noticed it and giving feedback on it, if both sides are interested in progress and making good changes, no matter how hard it is, sides can make a change, working together and being kind. And i think we should be more brave about making such connections!

Thanks again to @solariium and museum workers!

#small big changes #wheelchair #activism #i was writing this post in drafts for a month or smth like it's my diploma work #described

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werewolfbneimitzvah · 2 days

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vent post. There are two stories i was told in my teenage years that even before i had a real concept of trans issues made me uninterested in discussing the supposed sacredness and safety of separated sex-based spaces.

First, when i was like 13 or 14 my PE teacher told us about a time she went to a women's public restroom, some guy was hanging out outside the bathrooms, she didn't think anything of it, went to the bathroom, and he walked in after her and like, creeped on her over the top of the stall. She was ok, she wasn't telling us this to scare us, just telling us what to do in situations like that (and iirc she was telling the whole co-ed class this, not just girls, bc it's useful for everyone), but this taught me immediately and forever that there's nothing actually keeping these spaces separate really, that anyone can be a creep in any space, and that establishing a space like that as for women only isn't actually particularly useful for safety.

Second, when i was 16 i was at an anime convention, a friendly acquaintance of mine and i ended up in conversation outside, and he showed me his bare wrist and told me he'd been kicked out. A female friend of his had stepped in dog poop outside, and between that and the stress of the convention she'd had a bit of an emotional breakdown, so being her friend, he started comforting her and ushered her into the women's restroom so they could wash the poop off her shoe together. And because he was a man who went into the women's bathroom, he got kicked out, no matter that he was doing something that was actually beneficial to a woman. Punishing a woman's friend for supporting her was supposed to... protect her somehow? This made it clear to me that a no-exceptions rule separating the sexes like that wasn't actually inherently good for everyone.

And this isn't even getting into me as a child needing to accompany my younger sister to the restroom when we were out with just my dad because she had certain support needs past the age he felt comfortable bringing her into the men's room with him. And what if I'd been born a boy, or she'd been the first born? Who's helping her then?

And of course even putting all this aside, we should always prioritize compassion and support anyway. But i never even needed to meet a trans person to know that "keeping men out of women's bathrooms" is silly nonsense. But trans people also need to pee anyway and as humans they have that right, so leave them the fuck alone. your precious women's restroom is just a fucking room with a door, holy shit give it a fucking rest, if someone is attacking you in the bathroom that's bad and if someone is in there to pee that's good and it doesn't fucking matter what their junk is or was when they were born.

a woman could have done the exact same thing to my PE teacher and it would have also been bad no matter how "supposed" to be in the restroom she was, and no one should ever be punished for helping a crying friend wash their shoe.

Anyway i know I'm speaking to like-minded folks here, i just think about those two stories literally every time bathroom gender shit comes up and it pisses me off.

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lenfantdeverone · 3 days

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TOP 1 things I love in AOS:

Jim's death scene: that shit was perfect on so many levels, it gets me very time. "I'm scared Spock, help me not be" that shit was a cultural reset. I cried, I've seen other people cry; it's perfect and I'm literally willing to fight people over that scene.

TOP 1 things I HATE in AOS:

Jim's resurrection: WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S NO EPIC EMOTIONAL JOURNEY TO PUT TOGETHER THE PIECES OF HIS VERY HUMAN AND FRAGILE SOUL THROUGH THE VISCERAL AND UNCONDITIONAL NEED OF THE ONE PERSON WHO FINALLY LOST CONTROL HAVING LOST HIM!!! What do you mean there's no human equivalent to a "search for Spock" kind of thing. We get a 5 minutes fight scene and all is good. NO! I DON'T WANT THAT! What do you mean that they didn't get the chance to make Spock fight with his BARE FISTS, completely lose his temper, beat the shit out of Khan, realize the actual beast he has dormant inside of him, just for Jim to not wake up just by being injected blood alone. His body regains its functions, but Jim is not there. What do you mean we don't get to see realization FINALLY sink in. Bones worked so hard, day and night, to stabilize Jim. He exhausted himself, he did everything he could as a doctor, but fixing Jim's soul goes far beyond his capabilities. It's quiet in the hospital room; there's no sense of urgency or impending doom to distract them. Jim is dead. Gone. Forever? How is Spock gonna cope with that? How can he deal with that grief-filled beast inside him now? And what do you mean we didn't get to see Spock Prime's reaction to JIM BEING THE ONE WHO DIED IN THE WARP CORE???? IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HIM! HE HAD TO DEAL WITH THE TRAUMA OF BEING DEAD, AND NOT IT'S JIM!!! IT'S JIM THIS TIME! HOW??? WHY???? How is he gonna fix that because there's no way he can let this happen. He did not travel through time and space just to see Jim die again. In what was supposed to be his place. NOT A CHANCE. He is going to try everything. Except they have all the time in the world, sitting by Jim's hospital bed. His body is alive and kicking, but Jim... is dead for good.

(Or maybe he isn't...... maybe I can fix that..???? *writes writes writes* wish me luck for my first spirk fanfic...... maybe..... if my brain collaborates....)

#star trek #star trek aos #star trek alternate original series #star trek into darkness #spirk aos #spirk #james t kirk #spock #bones mccoy #star trek the search for spock #never moving on from that movie #spock prime

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astoryisaloveaffair · 2 days

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Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

Spotify Playlist

»»———————►

Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood.

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye. The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees. The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane.

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later.

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead.

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?”

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them.

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks.

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.”

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide.

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now.

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her. “How could you?”

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips.

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life.

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself.

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes.

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it.

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to?

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends.

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence.

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him?

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

#fix you fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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dwyntwo · 2 days

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Okay, so... as a collective fandom, we can agree that bullying Kaz is fun, yeah? There's just something about seeing the guy down at his lowest and then prodding him with a stick and going "Come on, do something."

But I'm going to stand in his corner for a bit in this post.

Something that never really sat right with me is the collective implication that Kaz isn't good enough for Inej (and never will be).

I'm totally with you: he didn't deserve Inej in the first book and maybe not even yet in the second because he didn't give her anything to work with. He didn't even visit her after she was stabbed, or show her how relieved he was when she recovered. And this is just the thing: he didn't deserve her because of his BEHAVIOUR, not because he's inherently less important or less valuable or less of a person than her.

However I've read so many post-CK fanfictions where Kaz has been working on himself, is openly communicating with her, basically kisses the ground she walks on, treats her as his equal and goes above and beyond to make her as comfortable as possible, and still everyone INCLUDING Inej (and Kaz) goes "I/she deserve/s so much better than me/him". And THAT implicates that the reason Kaz wasn't good enough for her was not his behaviour towards her, but the fact that he as a whole human being is just "not enough" and "less valuable" than her, and that viewpoint has always made me super uncomfortable, especially considering his trauma.

Now I know what you're going to say, and I absolutely agree: trauma never excuses abhorrent behaviour. But there's just something icky to me about looking at a traumatized person who has not only been making an EXTREME effort to overcome their issues, but also shown amazing results, and going "They don't deserve X", "They're less than X" etc. just because they haven't fully healed yet or might never fully heal. It gives "Traumatized people are damaged goods"-vibes, which is especially weird considering my next point: INEJ IS TRAUMATIZED TOO AND HER TRAUMA GETS IN THE WAY OF A GOOD AND LOVING RELATIONSHIP JUST AS MUCH AS HIS.

She literally admits to herself that she wears as much armor as Kaz does and was being kind of hypocritical when she told him to remove his. Inej is a flawed character (which somehow seems to be a controversial take in the fandom), and to put her on a pedestal because of how virtuous and "better" she is than Kaz takes all the nuance out of her. There are definitely some parts in the books where I felt like she was in the wrong or toeing the line, but the others never really call out her behaviour the way they do with Kaz, not even in their internal monologue, so we're left with this image of an Inej who can do no wrong and a Kaz who simply got lucky.

The fact that in aforementioned fanfictions (that I still absolutely adore btw) Inej too thinks he isn't good enough for her despite everything he does for her and for himself, and despite how far he's come also turns her acknowledgment of her own self worth into something ugly and vain in my eyes. She loves herself, but she also loves Kaz, so I don't think she, or any good partner, would look at her boyfriend who clearly already thinks very little of himself and go "Yep, this fucker isn't good enough".

So often people will look at a healthy happy couple and go "He/she could do so much better than her/him". Like that's a whole person you're putting in a competition of "Who's more worthy?" as if they were some object that is of better or worse quality.

I don't think I articulated this too well and there's a lot more to be said about this, but I hope you understand the gist of it. Post CK-Kaz who works on himself and openly communicates ABSOLUTELY deserves Inej, and I will ROT on this hill.

Now I've been nice to him for long enough I think *whacks him with a crow bar*

#wtf is wrong with me omg #kaz brekker #six of crows #soc #inej ghafa #ck #crooked kingdom

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colourstreakgryffin · 1 day

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Hallo again! I am the one who asked about Val, it wasn't a request I was asking if you write for him so here we go!

Could it please be where reader is Valentino's son ( or just child if you don't write for male reader ) and Valentino can't find someone to trust-worthy to babysit his son so he just take him to work since reader is non-verbal anyway and won't be much of a bother?

So reader now comes regularly with him and see the other Vees as family. Perhaps Vox as another dad/uncle and Velvette as a big sister ( or any family role for them ).

Thank you for giving a look to my request!

Ooh! Right! Okay, okay. I can try this out. To be honest, Val is a monster but something tells me he wouldn’t be THAT bad with a kid of his own and yes, I do write male readers. Female, male, transgender, genderfluid(if that’s possible, idk how but I would do it anyway), nonbinary/GN! But anyways. Let’s try Val out as a dad!

Valentino- Silkworm Caterpillar

Everybody who knows the director of the Pentagram City’s Porn Industry, Valentino, is aware how much of a bastard he is; cruel, abusive, exploitative but nobody had ever suspected that he would actually one: have a son and two: treat that son better than he’s ever treated anybody, even his on-and-off boyfriend, Vox

Your dad’s an insufferable man-child but yet, he is actually pretty good with you. He doesn’t really like much things, other than you. He is awful but he feels kinda soft and fluffy whilst he is around you. You’re basically his soft spot

Valentino needs hugs and he will get them, no matter what may step in his path. You are non-verbal and mute so he cannot communicate with you properly, he just acts on his affections for you since he believes it’s fine

Valentino is that type of wingman-father. He always encourages you to get out of your comfort zone and boosts you up to look even better. He’s a close friend to you and you can hang out with him in casual settings where it almost seems like he is just your uncle, not your father

Valentino always offers to get you what you want, he is a father that spoils his seed rotten. Want a drink? He’ll get it. Want a phone? He’ll get it. Want more hugs? You’re getting them rather you want it or not. He likes it when you smile and he does very much have favouritism towards you, where he almost never raises his voice to you

Valentino is actually protective, believe it or not and he is defensive over his son. Rather said son be above ten years old, he doesn’t trust a single being in Hell. Not anybody in Vees, not any under their luck bum he picks up for hire, not any one of his assistants. Nobody. He doesn’t ever want to leave you with somebody who can cause a threat

Valentino doesn’t really want to resort to this but after some more time. He decides to stop leaving you in the Vees Tower. You’re alone and you need him so he begins to bring you to his porn studios but what he does is that he glues you to other devices so you don’t have to be uncomfortable with watching pornography

Valentino is relatively soft and gentle. Even somebody as deranged and sick as him has a moment of love and affection and it’s in his son. He could be the most pissed off and at his absolute worse but when he is greeted by his offspring, he swallows back everything to be dote on you

Valentino calls you his silkworm because you’re a little caterpillar to him. He’s the moth, you’re his caterpillar and he’d pop you on his back and spread his wings for you if he had to. He enjoys your reaction of surprise and awe at his rather beautiful moth wings. He can understand where it comes from, it’s incredible. Isn’t it? He likes it when you’re proud of him or in awe of him

Valentino is aware of your deafness. You’ve been deaf since he had you… back in human life. Believe it or not, but he did and he actually cared to get you hearing aids but after you two died, he lost a hold of hearing aids and he has literally no other methods to help you

Valentino also much prefers you like the Vees themselves and the effort proves worth it since you end up viewing his on-and-off boyfriend, Vox as a stepfather and Velvette, their close friend, as a surrogate big sister. Valentino finds your point of views on his fellow rulers rather adorable and will playfully tease you about them

Valentino is learning sign language, since now of this time, sign language has been fully developed but he is struggling and his temper makes him go from trying to giving up to trying again. He’ll get there eventually, all for you

Valentino doing aggressive sign language and failing a bit

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 2 days

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Clone wars headcanons that took me forever to edit

I feel like my last couple of headcanons have been mushy so I’ve decided to write some shit Ahsoka and Anakin do that piss each other off

Ahsoka bites the skin around her nails all the time and most of the time she won't stop till they’re bleeding

Anakin’s tried literally everything in the book to get her to stop

He tried putting spices on her hands forgetting that she likes spicy food, he’s tried painting her nails (like that’ll do anything) but she keeps picking the paint off, now he just uses the force to remove them from her mouth

That’s gotten a few growls from her but at least it makes her aware she’s doing it but it doesn’t stop her from bitting them a couple of seconds later

Honestly he’s given up and just sits in silence while she complains about the pain

Anakin paces whenever he’s even slightly nervous and she can tell how nervous he is depending on how fast he moves

If he’s just kinda anxious he moves pretty slow but if he’s like one shirt caught on a door handle away from a panic attack he’s teleporting

When Padme told him he was gonna be a dad he was ecstatic for about 24 hours but after that some invisible timer went off in his head he booked it to Ahsoka’s house (she lives down the street cause of course she does)

Walked into her room and woke her poor sleepy butt up with all his pacing

Girl swears to this day he broke the damn sound barrier with how fast he was moving

She just wordlessly sat up and patted her bed cause she knew she wasn’t gonna get any sleep until he did

She sat by him and listened as he rattled off all his worries and only really stepped in when the darker thoughts surfaced when it was all said and done she turned to him and said “Now let me kriffing sleep”

Should he have probably left the room yeah but he got a total of 30 minutes of “sleep” that night so it’s not surprising that he knocked the fuck out of

Padme was a little bit alarmed to wake up without Anakin but was quickly soothed when she read Ahsoka’s message “Your nerf herders with me”

She knew the pregnancy would dredge up some unhappy feelings and she also knew Anakin can’t think clearly if he doesn’t have Ahsoka to sort through the bullshit in his head

She just got ready for brunch with her two favorite people and smiled cause she knew Obi-Wan and Rex would join them for dinner with or without an invitation

When Anakin and Ahsoka were living together they would kick each other out of their own bathrooms

Why? Well Ahsoka said Anakin’s had better lighting and water pressure and Anakin would do it to spite Ahsoka because he knew it would piss her off

Slowly but surely their stuff gets moved into each other's bathrooms and it’s a weird amalgamation of crap

Also when they were living together Anakin would ask Ahsoka if she was hungry before cooking and she’d often say no because she didn’t want to impose but his cooking always looked and smelled good

So half the time girl would just end up eating some of his food when she thought he wasn’t looking

At first he was like “Snips you said you weren’t hungry” to which she would respond “Yeah I wasn’t hungry then but I am now” after that he starts making more food on instinct cause damn that girl can eat

Anakin gets back at her pretty easily tho by taking the first bite of her food whenever they go out to eat his excuse is that he’s “making sure it’s not poisoned” he never does this to Padme cause he respects her too damn much

And he can’t use that trick on Obi-Wan and Rex cause the former taught him the trick and the latter has a bullshit detecter built-in

Both Anakin and Ahsoka pull that trick on the twins tho (which gets them a quick scolding from Padme)

Speaking of the twins it’s not surprising that as they grow up they realize that their auntie isn’t human so of course like any normal child they have questions and Anakin being the little shit that he is spots an opportunity for some laughs

So he turns to the twins all serious-like and goes “Well my loves we actually found your auntie in a dumpster we have no idea where she came from” the twins are distraught and go to the nearest adult who just so happens to be their uncle Rex

And Rex also being a little shit backs up Anakin’s story with so much sincerity that even Anakin believed it a little bit

The twins being the angels they are apologize to their auntie for her terrible origin story with tears in their eyes and her reaction more than made up for the swift ass-kicking the boys got

When Anakin was taller than Ahsoka he made her life hell by making fun of her every time something was even slightly out of her reach

He would make a big deal about grabbing it for her while commenting about how the temple’s architecture wasn’t made with the “young ones” in mind

Obi-Wan has turned multiple blind eyes when Ahsoka socked the shit out of his arms when he tells one too many jokes some days

When she finally grows taller than him she makes the biggest deal about it and no one can blame her

While Anakin is the pilot Ahsoka is easily the navigator she often jokes that Anakin wouldn’t find his way out of bed without help

Which is funny cause he often acts like a herding dog with her putting his hand on her back or holding her arm to guide her

But he’s wrong 9/10 times so it’s not uncommon to see Anakin guiding her in one direction and then see him get dragged in the opposite direction a couple of minutes later

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happy74827 · 2 days

Text

The Demon With A Heart

[Crowley x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Crowley saves your life, you can't help but think it was a little more than self-interest.

WC: 1858

Category: 99.9% Sexual Tension (lmfao), 0.01% Fluff + Angst? {TW: Mentions of Demons (obvi), Murder}

Crowley is too iconic not to have fics. I said what I said.

『••✎••』

You didn’t know how to react. It was as if your tongue was taken away, and you couldn’t talk, no matter how much you wanted to thank the man.

No, the demon.

You stood there with wide eyes, staring at the King of Hell, Crowley. He looked the same as before: a clean suit, a snarky comment, and a look of disgust on his face. But, instead of being on the opposite side, he was wiping the blood off of the angel blade he used to kill the angel that jumped you.

He just saved you—The King of Hell.

The very man who told Sam and Dean countless times that he doesn't do anything for free and doesn’t help people without getting something out of it. Yet, here he was, standing in front of you, not asking for a single thing.

The thought was a bit unsettling.

"Purely out of self-interest, darling," He says, breaking the silence and putting the stolen blade into his jacket. "Call it a favor that I plan to collect in the future."

He was about to leave, but you couldn’t let him go. Not without a thank you, at least. You didn't want him to think you didn’t appreciate what he did.

"Crowley."

The man turns back around, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

"Thank you"

The corner of his mouth turned upward, forming a small smirk. He didn’t say anything but rather kept his eyes on you for a second longer. He then disappeared, leaving you in the dark.

And it did leave you in the dark. For days, weeks, months. He never came for that favor, and he never brought up what happened. In fact, he barely talked to you at all. It was always towards the Winchesters.

You began to believe it was nothing but a dream. That Crowley somehow didn't save you. The angel was a fake, and this was all some sick joke. It felt like gaslighting.

But you knew what happened was real. You remembered the blood splatter and the dead corpse. The way his face contorted when he pierced the angel's heart.

It was all too real.

So, why was he ignoring you? Why did he pretend that it never happened? Was he going to hold it over your head? Or was it just the fact that the King of Hell did something nice for a human?

Was it because he… cared?

One night, you got your answer. It was a quiet night filled with books, tea, and soft music. At least, it was before those idiotic brothers decided to tear down the bunker in search of some book.

You couldn’t remember the exact reason they needed it, but you were too tired to argue. So, you stayed in your room and tried to fall asleep.

That is until the lights went out and the emergency lights kicked on. Okay, now you were annoyed. You got up, slipped on your shoes and a coat, and walked out of your room.

"Alright, what did you two-"

You paused mid-sentence, eyes falling onto the figure in the library. The man was facing the opposite way, but you knew exactly who it was. The familiar black suit and hair gave it away.

"Crowley…"

"Hello, Darling,” he replied, turning around and smiling at you. It was almost unnerving. He didn’t have a malicious aura or even an evil one. Just... a smile.

You looked behind him and noticed… well, nothing. You were expecting the Winchesters to be with him, and yet, it was just him.

"Where are the boys?"

"Moose and Squirrel? Ah, they're off somewhere, doing... well, you know. Something heroic, I suppose. Figured I’d stick around… enjoy the scenery."

That’s when you looked up and understood what he meant. He was stuck, quite literally. Those devil traps they put everywhere finally did something good.

You half-expected him to bring up that 'favor' he was talking about or maybe even just demand to get out of there, but he did neither. Instead, he looked at the ground and sighed.

At the moment, the King of Hell looked just like a caged puppy, sad and alone. If he wasn’t such a… demon, you might have even felt bad for him.

But, you left him in there, strolling along to the kitchen to find some kind of light. You were not giving up your two hours of reading due to power loss.

As you shuffled through the cabinets, looking for any form of match or lighter, the lights flickered back on.

So that’s where the Winchesters were.

You shrugged and turned back to your room but stopped at the entrance to the library. Crowley was still there, but this time, his face was twisted. He was clearly pissed.

"Why did you do it?" The burning question you wanted answered for months finally came out. Crowley stopped his little fit and turned towards you, a confused expression on his face.

He looked like he had no idea what you were talking about.

"I do a lot of things, Chipmunk. You'll have to be more specific."

You walked towards him, resting down the candles and book on a nearby table. You didn’t know why, but the need to confront him was growing.

"Save me all those months ago."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You were getting closer, now only a few feet from him. Crowley, however, didn’t back away. Instead, he watched as you moved, his expression unchanging.

"That angel could’ve killed me, yet you came out of nowhere and stabbed him. I know you don't do anything out of kindness, so why did you do it? What do I offer that no one else does?"

Crowley stayed silent for a while, not giving any indication of answering your questions.

You thought it was just a lost cause until his expression changed. It was subtle, but you caught it. The corner of his mouth turned down, and his eyes widened, then narrowed.

He almost looked ashamed.

"It's just like I said. Self-interest." He spat out, his voice sounding like venom. You almost took a step back. It still sounded like the same old Crowley, but his tone was different.

You decided to call his bluff.

"I don't believe you."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming across his face. He was amused by the sudden attitude, but it didn’t last long.

"And what makes you say that?"

"I saw the way you looked at me after you saved me. Hesitancy, almost. Like you were unsure. As if..."

The King of Hell stared at you, waiting for the last part of your statement. He was eager but not for the answer. No, he knew what you were going to say.

He was just waiting to hear it come out of your mouth.

"You care."

Those words hung in the air, both of you processing it. Crowley continued to stare at you, the smirk disappearing, leaving his face neutral. He had a blank expression.

A silence grew, the atmosphere turning awkward. It wasn't until the demon let out a loud sigh and looked to the side that it was broken.

"You’re really pulling on the heartstrings, Chipmunk,” he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "If I had one, I'd say it was aching."

"Do you?"

You knew what you were implying. Crowley was the King of Hell, the ruler of the damned. He was the furthest thing from human, yet he could walk among them and, sometimes, be mistaken for one.

Was it possible for him to be human or even have emotions?

Crowley looked at you and frowned, clearly not liking the topic. But he didn't deny it. It was a strange sight—the King of Hell, frowning and silent.

It was almost adorable.

"I'm not asking for anything. I just… want an honest answer."

"Well, I am a demon, love,” He stated, his tone changing to a more playful one. “Honesty isn’t quite in the job description."

"Crowley"

You were starting to get impatient, and it showed. Your voice was firm, and your posture was tense. You wanted an answer, and you were determined to get it.

The demon in question let out another sigh and looked at the ceiling as if praying for a quick escape.

"You're a pain, you know that? It's exhausting." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But, I suppose, since you asked nicely..."

The man looked at you, his lips pursed. He was still hesitating, which only made you more curious.

"Yes, I care. About you. Happy?"

You blinked a few times, processing the information. Did the King of Hell, the person known for not giving a shit, just admit he cares?

"I-" You started, not knowing what to say. It was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. Crowley wasn't exactly a bad guy, well, a demon.

"Do you actually mean that?"

"Now that…" Crowley started, his voice low and deep. He leaned towards you, making you back up, but the wall soon prevented you from going any further.

He was inches away, his breath hitting your face. You could see his eyes staring into yours—a pretty brown, like a mocha latte.

"…Is the kind of question that will get you in trouble, love."

You weren’t sure what he was planning, but you didn't care. The way his eyes were looking at you, the smirk on his face, the closeness...

He was probably expecting you to back away, but he was wrong. You were an avid reader, obsessive even. This scene wasn't new, nor was it shocking.

The only shocking part was the fact that you were the one in it. And, well, the fact that you didn’t mind it.

"Unlike you,” you whispered, a small smirk on your face. "I don’t care."

Your response made him pause for a moment, squinting his eyes and giving you a confused look. It only lasted a few seconds, though. Soon, he understood, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Touché"

You truly believed you were about to lose your chance with the man upstairs, but loud footsteps interrupted you.

"Crowley, you slimy son of a bitch! If you’re not here, we are going to-"

Dean stopped talking as he rounded the corner, seeing you and Crowley close. His expression was shocked, almost comical.

"The hell is going on here?"

You and Crowley both turned to look at Dean, a look of annoyance on the King of Hell's face. Sam came around the corner as well, sharing the same look of confusion.

Crowley gave you one last glance, a bit of disappointment in his eyes, before taking a step back. His attention moved on to the two hunters, his usual smile returning.

And despite the annoyance in the air and the confusion, the only thing that came across your mind was another question that you were sure would take control of your sleep schedule once again.

"Hello, boys," He purred, his arms moving to his side. He was back to his old self, not showing a single sign of what happened moments ago.

Had the beauty thawed the beast?

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