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#but that is such a huge gap in years omg
frostedmagnolias · 27 days
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Bodice
circa 1880-1910
“This black bodice is made of silk and features floral embroidery throughout. It is boned and has a pink crepe panel down the center front and a standing collar as well as black bead trim throughout. There are also buttons on the cuffs and it has leg-of-mutton sleeves.”
Grand Rapids Public Museum
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fics-lovebot · 8 months
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jujutsu kaisen recs
main masterlist
pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs, luv you and thank you in advance❤️
WHY ARE ALL OF THEM SO FUCKING GOOD????????! pls tRUST me
gojo
gojo eating you out
gojo x dacryphilia
gojo loves fat pussy
sending gojo an accidental nude so he sends you a whole video
car sex with gojo
gojo being goofy in an elevator full of people - he´s big on PDA
gojo tried to give himself a haircut and now wants to go bald - this is fuNNY ksksks, I love the banter
trying to break up with yandere!gojo - yep, we´re talkin about lovesick toxic obsessed type of gojo, break up????? you know better than to tell him that sooo since you´re acting dUMB he has to fucc so sense into you bc clearly you forgot who tf ur talking to - LDKJSDFJDJFHLSHFLSHDF but he´s not rough bc he luvss you a lot
gojo is the pussy fairy - fwb, he´s your sneaky link when henessy makes you act up. he got a mf tongue piercing bYEE
insecure bully!gojo - angst, lil fluff, he´s a bully but he´s in love with that, but it´s not enough. part 2
the horniest - smut, ITS SO GOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDD, he´s horny af, pussy drunk, obsessed, borderline crazy for that wap
phone calls - slice of life, hubby!gojo, dilf!gojo, his wife and his daughter are his only priority, this is so sdkfjskdjfh :´( i love it
cherished moments - clanleader!gojo, hubby!gojo who is a softy for his wife, #simp
family moments - fluff, slice of life, this is so wholesomeee, bf!gojo meeting your parents for the first time, i love it
someone older - smut, rich dilf!gojo, big age gap, big dicc too, talks big shit as well, "what do you do when your boyfriend cheats? you go to his house and fuck his dad" I MEAN- skdfhksdf
best of the best - smut, fwb! satoru, big sHIT talker omg, he lit asks you to be his gf wHILE he´s making you cum,,,,,best bf ever tho
love struck - fluffy, ex-fuckboy!satoru, he´s experiencing love for the first time :((((( IT´S SO CUTEEEEEEEEEE
love dumb - fluff, blurb, you make him lose his composure, can´t even focus bc you´re over there existing, someone should make a longer version of this! so good
too much - ANGSTTTYYYY, fluff too, reader and gojo are in a situationship kinda thing where they live together and love each other but nothing has been said yet, they get into an argument bc gojo has a big mouth and says a lot of hurtful things, they´re both just so exhausted
i know you still think about the times we had - angst, fluff, rich bf!gojo, his father makes you break up with him, it´s so angsty omg, they get into this HUGE argument bc gojo´s dad is a controlling mf
sanctuary - fluff, lowkey angst, weak!reader, bully!gojo, nah he´s just in love but doesn´t know how to say it
the road to falling in love - fluff, strangers to lovers, it´s a collection o moments where keeps falling harder for you, I LOVE ITTTTT, sdkfjhskdjf it´s kinda slow burn but not boring at all
loving you - fluffy af, "you’re the apple of his eyes; the love of his life. the only one who matters" ME N WHO???? pls this made my want to cry my heart out
yuji finds out gojo has a family - fluff, lowkey angst, hubby!gojo, dad!gojo, so,,, this made me cry, i love yuji sm he deserves the world :( this is part two and it also made me crY MY MF EYES OUT :))))))))
i´ll meet you forever in this memory - fluff, college au, married life au, it´s so good, he lit has this big ass plan to make you fall for him, and i mean big, like planned way ahead lmao, 10 years later he´s still asking you to go out with him,,,,even if you´re already married sdlfkjkdfhlsdjh so so cute
can´t stop drinking - ANGST, death, blood, dad!gojo, husband!gojo, mentions of wanting to die, a curse kills you and your son allegedly but in reality the elders had lied to him all these years, part 2 made me fucking cry, PLEASEEE I NEED PART 3
hype man - crack, fluff, supportive bf!gojo, he´s such an amazing bf :(, “damn, my girl ran you over with a bus, reversed, then got out and shot you twice in the foot? what did you do?? sounds like a you issue.” LMAOOOOO this is so cute and funny at the same time, i love it, such a gojo thing to say
flicker of flame - fluff, nervous soon to be dad!gojo, pregnant!reader, he´s going to be the best dad ever
nanami
when you break up and make up - nanami divorce au, angst
dorm room escapades - smut, dad´s bestfriend!nanami, age gap, GAWWDD DAMNNNN, daddy kink, this is some good stuff
you ask him to fuck you like a whore - its a short one but me likey
nanami drabbles - pwp, pls yall readdd part 2 and part 3
nanami is strong af - short blurb, smut, sdflksjd this got me giggling and shii
fifteen minutes - “Say that again. Louder. Can’t hear shit with the sound of my dick slapping into your cunt.” that´s all I have to say, your honor
protective - headcanon, hubby!kento, i love thissss
swear it´s just right for you - smut, fluff, hubby!nanami, I´m weaaaak, he´s so husband material
stressed after work - boyfriend! kento, a cute lil drabble bc he loves your mere presence
labour of love - fluff, vanilla smut, lowkey angst if you´ve been keeping up with the manga/anime, loving hubby!kento, SO DOMESTIC, love making, :(
losing his mind - smut, dom!reader, hubby!kento, sub!kento, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW, 10000/10, now this is new
his protégé - fluff, slice of life, fiancé!kento, dinner time with yuuji, it´s so wholesome :´)
my future is with you - fluff, unexpected angst, this is SICKKKKKKK, the last senteces is fucking sickening, and NOT in a good way, so fucking wrong for that, I litteraly wanna dIE
tie my tie, marry me - fluff, slice of life, "the moment nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side" please just do yourself a favor and READ THIS
putting you in your place - smut, reader is gojo´s brat little sister, mean!nanami, BRAT TAMER!NANAMI, HEAVY degradation, “Maybe this was your fucking goal all along. To have me ruin you on my cock and fuck the attitude out of you.” CALL 911
edging - smut, pwp, fluff, this,,,,this is one the BEST nanami smuts out there, i just know the description of the whole thing is 100% accurate, the details, the way this is written, the visuaLSsss ldskjfhjsalfh go read it pls
married man - fluff, work au, HE IS A PROUD HUSBAND OK, the man was just waiting for somebody to say sOMETHING sljsdhfl now he can´t stop bragging about his perfect wife
toji
toji x size kink
toji x pussy spanking ´till you´re squirting - the title says it all,,, he´s MEAN
toji doing push ups with you on his back - you´re basically a rag doll,,,bc wdym he puts you in a fULL NELSON??
toji gets embarrased - the man WHIMPERED bc the riding was gewdd so reader kinda teases him for it, how dare she right? so now he has to make her pAY bc he aint no bitch
silk sheets n sticky cum - toji can´t control himself when he sees you in a nightgown so he uses you as a cum dump,,, in a very romantic way flsjdflkssldfjlsdfh, breeding kink
toji x overstimulation - fINALLY he got what he deserved, reader got him WHIMPERING, body shaking eyes rolling to the back of his head and everythangggg, I'm here for it.
take it lil princess - toji got me fucked up, straight up size kink like FRRRR he wants to break, bend and basically snap you in half (i´ll let him tbh), daddy kink, he got a big dicc as aLWAYS, the degRADING DIRTY TALKKK???? yes. he talks and talks and tALKS. there´s a lot going on yall
mine - toji mixed with monster!porn,,, nothing else to say- HE´S A WEREWOLfff, mean asf, breeding kink, daddy kink, size kink, it´s nasty
jealous daddy - slice of life, dilf!toji, megumi is a baby, toji and megumi create a plan to keep you away from megumi´s kindergarden teacher lmaooo, its so cute
nyphomaniac - smut, nypho!reader, dom!toji, THERE´S A WHOLE LOTTA STUFF GOING ON HEREE, just read it omg
family man - fluff, soft dad!toji, baby megumi, husband!toji, he´s a softie for his son and his wife ;(
unprecedented reveal - smut, fluff, mma!toji, journalist!reader, lowkey angst, "photo leaks of toji going down on you in public is suddenly exposed for everyone to know about the infamous fighters girlfriend" wELL dssdfh that´ll do it
will always be yours - smut, fluff, so basically toji only does rough sex, doggy style being his fav, but when it comes to you he prefers the loving-face to face-intense eye contanct type of sex (more like love making) bc being with you makes him feel ten different emotions at once :) DÑFLJSLDFJ
unspoken memories - fluff, lowkey angst, dad!toji, baby!megumi, married life, my heart is so full after reading this, it´s so domestic, so adorable, such a happy read
make a mess on his face - smut, toji is a messy pussy eater, that´s it, that´s the tweet
geto
gimme, gimme more - rich!geto x stripper!reader, lots of plot and build up, he is misteriousssss and fucking filthy and so cuTE??????? wtf, the wating game is real, he knows how to play his cards very well, LAWDD HAVE MERCY i would have folded too
gripping the headboard with one hand - smut, “what a slut.” hELP
protective hubby - teacher!suguru, pregnant wife oc, it´s cutee
focus - suggestive, flirty!geto, tutor!geto, “you’re doing so good for me… keep going.” I HATE ITTTTTTTT, i would fold like a mf lawn chair bitch OOF
dress shopping - very suggestive, WHY IS HE SO SMOOTH WITH IT ALL THE TIME??? got me blushing and sweating and shit
phoque - crack, teacher!suguru, twin girls dad!suguru, he accidentally curses in front of his daughters and now he´s gotta make up some bullshit story to save his ass, SLFHSLDKJHSLDH this is funny
choso
picture perfect - smut, photographer choso, he´s lowkey a perv, jacks off to oc´s pictures
suckig souls - smut, succubus oc, somnophilia, sub! choso, lil dacryphilia, love love love love it
meanie - smut, mean!choso, “Why you actin’ like some dick-starved whore? I fucked you good this morning" THE WAY I SCREAMEDDDDDDDD “Is that what you needed, princess? Some good dick?" STOOOOOOOOOPPPP
your pleasure - smut, squirting, choso discovers the magic of eating pussy :))))) aND he´s a fucking natural too like ???? gTFO
it´s too much - smut, dom!reader, inexperienced!choso and sub!chose fics are like crack to me, i´m obsessed, this is so detailed, he is eager to please sdlfjls and wants to try it all at once
fingers in his hair - smut, chose loves having his hair pulled when he´s eating pussy,,,,,,,CALL A MF AMBULANCE a bitch just died
cherry blossoms - smut, virgin!choso, phone sex, it´s his first orgasm yall, not yuji talking about a "sloppy toppy" LSJFHLSJDFHLFDH he´s so outta pocket
sukuna
itadori
vivid fantasies - smut, sukuna wants to bone you and he makes it yuji’s problem sakfhkshfksfd poor yuji
poly / multiple versions
gojo and geto are rich besties and they coax you into a poly relationship - smut
you slap their ass - reaction. gojo, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso, toji, megumi, itadori, yuta
too much for them to handle - toji and gojo version. it´s a LOT going here as well. gojo is a whole swiTCH. toji is a bully in the sheets so you know he´s all abou that degrading teasing dirty talk, we love it
slut him out - gojo, geto, nanami and toji version. y'know what,,,idek what to say about thi- IT´S NASTY FILTHY JUST PORN, reader is a whOre (not my words), read at your own risk bc i was SHOOk
how jjk men like it - smut, the gojo and toji one,,, i HATe it hereee
bimbo bunny - smut, choso, toji and nanami version, the vISUALs I GOT FROM THE NANAMI ONE LAWDDDD
birthday boy - smut, birthday sex, dacryphilia, i just KNOWWWW this is geto
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raina-at · 6 days
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Pride
Omg, you guys, it's the last one! Where did the month go!
A huge, huge thank you to @calaisreno for keeping is going the entire month, and a huge thank you to all of you for reading and writing and gushing and commenting and crying and making this more fun than it had any right to be. I'll miss this!
I did a Pride ficlet last year as a bonus ficlet because I missed two days. I had a lot of ideas for this year's, and maybe I'll post some of them as bonus ficlets through June, but for now, I say goodbye to May with John and Rosie.
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"Dad."
"Hmm?"
"Dad!"
John puts down the newspaper. Apparently this is a serious discussion. "Yes, love?"
Rosie throws herself into Sherlock's chair and contorts herself into a pretzel-like shape that can't be comfortable. "I'm...um..." It's apparent she doesn't quite know how to phrase her issue, because she's unnaturally hesitant. Sherlock's influence has made her shockingly blunt, while John's influence has made her shockingly foul-mouthed. Arguing with her is a joy. But now, very untypically, she looks confused and a bit lost.
"Ro, whatever it is, you can tell me," John says, leaning forward, a bit worried now.
"It's..." She sighs, looks down at her hands. "It's a bit personal?"
"Oh my god you're pregnant!" John blurts out, his momentary fear overriding his usually good brain-mouth-filter.
"Dad, what the actual fuck! I'm not fucking pregnant!" Rosie rolls her eyes so hard John wonders if she sprained something. "You know I'm on birth control. You went with me to get my first prescription, for fuck's sake."
"Accidents happen, my dear," John says, gesturing at his lovely daughter, who, light of his life, and joy of his world as she may be, was also very much an unplanned pregnancy.
"Fair enough," Rosie admits, deflating a bit. "Still."
"It wasn't a completely unreasonable assumption. You have a boyfriend, you're twenty, I'm assuming you're having sex."
"Please, dad!" Rosie exclaims, the tips of her ears turning red. "I really don't want to talk about my sex life."
"You think I do?"
Rosie makes a very Sherlock-like  'never mind all that nonsense now' gesture. "Anyway," she says, giving John a glare that tells him to shut up until she's finished. "It's actually kind of about Mark."
John nods, to let her know he's listening, but carefully and deliberately keeps his mouth shut, even as he's thinking, If he hurt you, I'll kill him so fucking dead so quickly he'll never know what hit him.
"It's... you know... he's... well, he's a boy," Rosie finally gets out.
John blinks a few times. Waits a bit. When it's clear Rosie won't be any more forthcoming about the issue, he dares to ask, "And?"
She looks down at her hands, studying them with unwarranted fascination. "I'm..." She sighs. "When did you know you were bisexual?"
John exhales audibly. Now he knows what this is about. In a family of mostly queer people, Rosie seems to have assumed she'd be some kind of queer as well. And if anyone knows how complicated identity can be, especially if it's weighed down by expectation, it's John. "Um. Quite honestly, I'm not sure I am."
Rosie looks up, surprised. "I mean. Mum. And Paps. Um. You know..." she makes a 'please fill in the gaps yourself' gesture.
"Look," John says, leaning forward and taking his daughter's hands. "I personally think labels are vastly overrated. If a word, or a label, or a phrase, helps you to better understand yourself, that's great. Use that label as long as it serves you, and if it doesn't anymore, use another one. As for me, I was raised in an environment where being different was bad. What kind of different you were exactly was completely beside the point. And I saw first-hand how the world treated your aunt, so I thought, best not think about it. I wasn't that attracted to men, it wasn't difficult to ignore. Until I met Paps, and you know how difficult he is to ignore."
Rosie grins. "Oh, yeah. So Paps made you bi?"
"No, you know it doesn't work like that. He made me... " John answers, smiling fondly at the memory. "Well, quite simply, he made me fall in love. He was—still is, of course—the most intriguing, gorgeous, infuriating, exasperating, fascinating person I've ever met, and I fell in love with him so hard, and so fast. But I wasn't ready, and he wasn't ready, and it took us years to get our acts together. And part of that was that we both couldn't accept a fundamental truth: The heart wants what the heart wants. Fighting against it only brings misery and destruction." He squeezes Rosie's hands. "So. Do you love Mark?"
She nods, her eyes shining with the truth of it.
"Is he good to you? Good for you?"
She nods again.
"Then who the fuck cares about anything else?"
Rosie's silent for a bit, apparently mulling over his words, still holding on to his hands. "So," she finally says, looking up from her joint hands with a smile. "You'll love me even if I'm straight?"
"Well, love, I suppose I can overlook this glaring character flaw. Also, you might meet a stunning lesbian when you're forty and she'll rock your entire world and turn everything you thought you knew about yourself upside down. And I want you to remember," he says, leaning in a bit more, looking deeply into her eyes, "I'm fine with everything, as long as you give me some grandkids first."
Rosie laughs and pushes him away. "Fuck off."
John gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. "So, sexual identity crisis over? You want to have some tea now?"
"Of course I want tea. But what you're saying, if I understand you correctly, is not to assume I'm straight just because I fell in love with a man?"
"I'm saying," John says, flicking the kettle on, "is that it doesn't matter, love. Gay, straight, pan, bi, ace, all these labels are useful if they help you understand yourself. But if you feel boxed in by a label, don't use it. Use another one. Use none at all. Let nothing ever keep you from knowing and understanding your own heart. That's the only thing that matters. I might be bi, who knows. The important thing is that I love Sherlock with all my heart, and that I made a commitment to him. Everything else is just noise."
Rosie is quiet for a bit, looking thoughtfully at the fire crackling cherrily in the hearth of 221B. "You're getting soft in your old age, Dad," she finally says, with a grateful smile.
John hands her a mug, drops a kiss on her head. "Love you too, dear," he says, smiling into her hair.
----
Don't forget that I'm collecting these ficlets here on AO3, and don't forget to check out the wonderful collection of May prompt ficlets as well. I know I'm already looking forward to reading all of them again.
Tags under the cut as usual.
@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown
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juuuulez · 7 months
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Negan x Virgin wife reader smut??? Questionable age gap if ur comfortable no pressure though
info: absolutely FILTHY, age gap (reader is 18 when they have sex, negan is like mid 40s), alcohol consumption, negan calls himself daddy, oral (female receiving), loss of virginity, probably more but i can’t even think rn.
summary: Negan’s always taken care of you, only now, you want him in a different way.
omg this took soooo long to write and is also absolutely huge 😭😭 it’s also just pure filth but totally is everything i’ve ever wanted
You were 16 when you arrived at the Sanctuary.
Though, you never really did anything. Negan didn’t even know if you knew how to fire a gun, but he didn’t mind. Your little fingers probably were too soft, they’d shake upon just nearing one, afraid of blemishing your perfect nails.
Your father was a loyal soldier of his, always carried out orders to a T. Therefore, Negan believed that your debt was paid, and didn’t feel the need to make you pull your weight, like most others.
After meetings, when everybody was dismissed, those big wooden doors would open to you standing there, waiting for your father with a sweet smile on your face. He’d place his hand on your back, kiss you on the head, walk you out.
It made Negan think that maybe, just maybe, there was good left in the world. That good was you.
Sometimes a mission would go haywire. Radio connections lost, a truck missing, hijacked. When this happened, you’d always wind up at the door to Negan’s office, timid little knocks garnering his attention. You’d ask, visibly upset, if your father would be okay, if he had any news on when he’d be back.
And Negan would always assure you it was fine, that you’d best get to bed. Morning would come, your father would return, and your world would be complete again. Each time, you’d sniffle, flashing him that sweet little smile before bidding him goodnight.
You were 17 when your father died.
It was a seemingly random attack on an outpost, though Negan knew otherwise. 20-odd men were killed, including your father. When he’d shared the news, you weeped and cried for what felt like hours.
Despite the million tasks to be completed, justice to be avenged, Negan had set that aside to comfort you. Sit down with you, ease your worries, promise that he’d make things right. That whoever did this would pay, he would get your revenge. Even though the tears didn’t stop, and you practically didn’t move from your bed for days afterwards, you’d still managed the effort to give Negan a smile.
You were trying, so, so hard.
But things changed after that.
Well, you changed.
A year went by, and you got harder. Learnt to live on without the guidance of your father, though the struggle was still evident. You were lost, like a little lamb.
Some of the older girls took you under their wing, teaching you the necessities of life in this world. How to make a knife, how to escape rope binding, how to please a man. All the things your father had sheltered you from, made sure you wouldn’t need to worry about.
Though you appreciated their help, it wasn’t the same. Women were too… understanding. They were soft, gentle with you, but it came from a place where they saw a version of themselves in you. No, you wanted something masculine. That protective hand on your back, the feeling of a beard scratching your cheek when he left you sweet little kisses.
You were 18 when you found this again.
Albeit, in a different way.
The war was progressing, however slowly, and tensions were high. Infighting was getting more and more common, Rick was getting on Negan’s last nerve, and his wives were starting to tick him off.
It was another late night, chain-smoking and trying to brainstorm any sort of play against the Alexandria group. Just something to gain some leverage, as he could feel the power slipping from his fingers, whilst they were only getting more and more rebellious.
Just last week, they’d attacked the Sanctuary, where Negan realised that he needed to put an end to this.
There’s that slight knocking at his door, the quiet tap tap tap. He doesn’t need to see to know who it is, nor does he need to answer for you to enter.
You push past the doors, feet clothed in white cotton socks. The type with pink bows on them, on either side. It makes your footsteps silent, padding across the wooden floorboards until you’re standing in front of Negan’s desk.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
It’s become a rather common phrase, though Negan had thought that you were getting better. The attack must have set you off again, put you on edge, anxious. It makes sense, as you weren’t exactly accustomed to the gunfire and shouting.
“You try counting, doll?” Negan asks, watching you over the rim of his glass, letting the smooth whiskey slide down his throat. His eyes wandered downwards, taking in your silk nightdress, falling just to the top of your thighs.
Tantalisingly small, you needed a new one.
This past year, after your 18th birthday, you’d become dangerous. Confident. Each day your shorts seemed to get shorter, the straps on your tanks skinnier. You pushed the limit, that sickly sweet smile transforming into something alluring and tempting whenever you gazed at the younger soldiers.
It was like a ticking time bomb, and without your daddy to guide you, Negan knew you were moments from acting out.
“Mhm. Doesn’t work,” You shrug, eyes downcast upon the wooden desk, like you’re searching the dark grain for some sort of answer to all your problems, “Why count when I can come see you?”
This causes Negan to chuckle, that deep sound that rumbles from his chest, causing you to look back up at him. He sets the glass down, a soft clink as it collides with the table. “Because sometimes I’ll be busy. Ya gotta learn to handle yourself.”
Wrong choice of words.
Negan knew that, because there was this little flicker in your eyes, like a light that had switched on.
Of course you could handle yourself, that’s what you’ve been doing this past year.
You knew what you wanted, and were willing to hunt it down, like prey. All those hushed conversations with the older women, reading all those magazines, you knew what you were doing. Or, you thought you knew what you were doing.
Negan could see this, which is why indulging in these thoughts with you was a dangerous game. He was only a man, after all, and you just looked so good in that little silk dress, the spaghetti straps almost hanging off your soft shoulders. It was like a temptation from the devil himself, the ultimate forbidden fruit.
“C’mere, princess.” He calls out, internally cursing himself for being so fucking stupid, but nonetheless leaning back slightly in his chair.
He was going to hell.
But luckily, sinning was a two player game.
You accepted the invitation, slinking over to him, knuckles just brushing the wooden desk as you pass. Without instruction, you situate yourself between Negan’s slightly parted legs, your ass making contact as you sat on his thigh, rough denim creating friction against your soft skin.
His hands instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer, where you allowed your head to fall against his chest. It was comforting, and Negan smelt like smoke and leather, something to unfamiliarly masculine but you loved it. You wanted to smell it forever, feel him forever.
“Why haven’t you asked me to be a wife?”
This causes Negan to furrow his brows, tilting his head to look down at you. In turn, you meet his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. The position makes him feel powerful, like you’re tiny in his hands, something he could direct with ease. He quickly banished the thought away, not wanting to corrupt your innocence.
“Because you’re too young, doll.”
“But I know things,” You assert as soon as Negan has given his excuse, desperate to make him understand, “From.. from asking people, from reading magazines. I know what to do.”
Negan’s eyes flicker across your face, taking in the cute little pout on his lips. Reading? It suddenly dawns on him that you’re more inexperienced than you let on. All those flirty remarks, seductive stares directed at his soldiers, hadn’t proved fruitful.
You were a virgin.
Now, that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did, but God. Negan’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, keeping you pressed firmly against him, to which you lifted your head from his chest. One hand raised higher, gently brushing the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The other shifted downwards, snaking his long fingers just under your soft asscheek, peaking from that silky nightgown that bunched above your thighs.
As much as Negan had resented the idea of tarnished your innocence… now it just seemed all the more alluring. Being your first, being the only one you’ll ever taste. Making you his.
“You ever drank whiskey, baby?” He finds himself asking, voice just as smooth and fiery as the alcohol in question.
Your head tilts, eyes owlish and curious as you shake your head no. Negan leans forward in the chair, keeping you close to his chest, and scoops up the previously abandoned glass.
Auburn liquid sloshes slightly with the movement, and Negan takes a moment to adjust you in his lap, manoeuvring your body with ease. He presses his thumb against your plush bottom lip, the slight pressure causing you to open your mouth around him, where he is able to replace the digit with the rim of the glass.
His hand shifts to your jaw, holding you with a firm grip and tilting your head backwards, tipping some of the whiskey into your awaiting mouth. It passes your tongue, gliding down your throat until he pulls the glass back, allowing you just a taste.
Your nose scrunches at the harsh burn, not accustomed to it, before letting your tongue dart out to lick your lips.
“It’s warm.” You mumble, voice still quiet and delicate despite the actions you were partaking in, “Like… in my chest.”
“Yeah? Feelin’ it here?” Negan asks, a smirk beginning to play at his lips in response to your pure innocence. His hand slides up your body, brushing along smooth silk, until it comes to rest just in the channel between your plump breasts. He applies a slight pressure, a firm hand that sits over your heart, where he can feel it increase in tempo.
At this, you smile, pink lips curving upwards while you lean in a little, head tilting up to look at him. Negan feels inclined to mimic the motion, allowing you closer until he can feel your soft breaths against his mouth, lips slightly parted in anticipation.
His eyes flicker down, weighting the severity of these temptations, before meeting your gaze again. “If you wanna do this, baby-girl, then there is no going back,” He advises, voice lowered to match the tension of the situation, “I am going to tear you apart.”
A mixture of anticipation and fear floods your stomach, butterflies tingling and reaching areas that you’d forbidden yourself from touching. Only the slightest motion is required until your lips are touching, pressing against his, causing you to shift closer on your lap.
Negan takes note of your pure eagerness, licking into his mouth with no hesitation, letting your tongues intertwine like you’re trying to taste every inch of his mouth. You’re drunk off the feeling, how he tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, and you can feel his stubble irritating the skin around your mouth but it feels so inexplicably good.
You’re ravenous, fulfilling that deep yearning that’s directed your every movement for the past year. But Negan wants to take it slow, pull you apart, help you understand everything that he’s capable of doing to your body.
So he wraps a hand in your soft hair, balling it around his fist and holding the back of your head in place. A desperate whine leaves you when he pulls his face away, a grin quickly spreading upon seeing your dissatisfied pout.
“Not so fast, baby.” He hums, before diving in once more, directing the pace of the kiss himself.
Whenever you get too eager, trying to take control, Negan will pull away again, letting you gasp and whine and beg him to kiss you again. It’s utterly pathetic, you’ve barely even started and it’s already apparent just how much control Negan has over you, a notion that makes him feel completely elated and also extremely aroused.
It feels like an eternity, with you seated in his lap, leisurely making out and learning exactly what makes you tick. Negan finally lets go of your hair, giving appreciative pets through the silky locks and then down your back, before two large hands are hooking underneath your ass and pulling you upwards.
The sudden movement causes you to gasp, arms quickly gripping onto Negan to steady yourself, but he’s strong enough to manhandle you onto the desk. That white nightgown bunches at your hips, and Negan pushes it upwards to your waist, letting out a low whistle at the sight of your little white lace panties.
“Look at you, princess.” He grumbles, pushing your thighs apart on the desk to get a proper look. There’s a wet stain right over your core, and Negan shamelessly presses his fingers against the thin fabric. The contact makes you squirm, bracing your hands behind you on the wooden desk.
He brings himself closer by pushing the chair forward, whilst simultaneously gripping your thighs and pulling you towards him. Closing the gap, Negan presses his nose against your clothed cunt, letting his tongue dart out to further soil the sticky fabric. The lewd act causes you to gasp, nails scratching against the surface and legs shaking, clamping around his head.
“Tastes so fucking good, baby-girl. This pussy was just made for me.” Negan groans, inhaling your intoxicating scent mixed with the slightly salty taste on his tongue. It took everything in him not to completely brutalise your poor cunt, though he knew it would be sopping by the time he was finished.
Two large, rough hands skate up your thighs, fingers slipping into the dainty handles of your panties. Negan pulls the straps down, letting the fabric fall from your hips and down your legs. Instead of discarding the item onto the floor, or setting it aside, Negan slips them into a nearby drawer. You clock the action, and it makes your face flush bright red.
Negan takes a moment to admire the sight of your bare skin, his hands tracing loving circles into your thighs. “Fuck, can’t believe this is all for me.” He groans, before finally, finally, bringing his mouth close enough to make contact your with your heat.
He licks a long line from your dripping hole, to your clit. Tongue flattened, feeling every ridge of your pussy. The sensation is completely new, leaving you to gasp over him, palms splayed out against the wooden desk. It’s tempting to squeeze his head in your thighs, to completely crumble, but you keep them open and spread.
The effort must be visible, because Negan tilts his head to the side, pressing a tender kiss against your skin. “Bein’ such a good girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, baby. Let go for me.”
Each word of encouragement is rumbled into the meat of your thighs, and eventually, back into your waiting cunt. It’s overwhelming, in the best way possible, and Negan takes the time to talk you through the pleasure, albeit muffled by how devotedly he’s eating you out.
You squirm against the desk, little pants and surprised cries leaving your mouth, struggling to adjust to the sensation of Negan’s lips suctioning over your clit, creating a steady motion that causes a whole other wave of pleasure to wash over your shoulders.
But then, he’s pressing a single, thick digit against your hole. There’s a slight resistance, but Negan takes his time, circling his finger around the silky cavern until it finally gives, sucking his finger inside. All of this, whilst he continues his assault on your pussy, licking into it shamelessly in a pattern he’s learnt will give you the most pleasure.
“Fuck, it’s.. I-I dunno if I can take it.” You mumble when Negan perseveres, pushing another finger into your warm cunt. It’s a tight fit, but he’s willing to make it work. Determined.
“Oh, baby. You will be taking a lot more than this.”
It fills you with a sense of fear, an anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach, like you’ve swallowed a rock. Until Negan pushes his fingers upwards a little, and you practically jump from the desk, a ragged moan leaving your throat. He continues to press against the fleshy spot, meanwhile suctioning his lips around your clit and sucking hard.
You gasp and cry, little tears filling your eyes as you drop backwards. One arm supports you on the desk, the other moving so that you can grip onto Negan’s short, dark hair. Your nails scratch as his scalp, but he doesn’t care, because it’s only a sign of how much pleasure he’s bringing you.
It sounds like you’re trying to say something through the distraught moans, but the words carry no meaning, practically unintelligible. It’s like your bones have turned to jelly, this new feeling arising in your stomach, something you haven’t felt before.
It feels like pressure, an intense pressure. It builds and builds, and you know that it’ll snap soon, but you can’t find your words in order to warn Negan. Yet, he already knows, of course he knows. By the end of this, he’ll understand your body better than you do. Maybe he already does.
Because when it snaps, your orgasm finally reaching its peak, Negan only quickens the pace of his fingers and tongue. His other hand is now on your lower stomach, leaving soft pets against the skin, gently trying to bring you down from everything.
Now, Negan would love nothing more than to keep going, to devour your sopping pussy until you’re crying tears of pain, begging him to relent. One day, he’ll have you like that. Not now, not while you’re still adjusting to everything that he’s possible of giving you.
The hand previously positioned in his hair falls down to his shoulder, where Negan finally brings his face up from your pussy, leaning in closer to you. His beard is shiny with your slick, fingers similarly coated in it, and there are red marks from where his stubble had irritated your sensitive thighs.
You look a mess.
Panting, teary eyed. Face all red and flushed, looking up at him. Your mouth opens to speak, but Negan is quick to cover it with his own, capturing you in a deep kiss.
It’s messy, passionate, though you’re really worn out. Yet, you show him your appreciation, licking feverishly into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. Then you’re leaning forward, pushing yourself back into a sitting position on the desk, arms wrapped around Negan’s shoulders.
When you break apart, he nudges your cheek with his nose, moving to press kisses against your skin. “How ‘bout I get you into bed, huh?”
You push away from him, shaking your head. There’s a look of confusion on your face, a small pour forming against your lips. “No, no, not yet. We can keep going.” You protest, looking up at him with the most precious, hurt little eyes.
Negan moves his hand up, capturing your face in his grasp, holding you still. His thumb rubs at your plump bottom lip, still wet with his spit, all bitten and red.
“You really want this?” He asks, “Because ‘s gonna hurt, baby. It’ll feel good, but it’ll hurt first.”
You only nod, separating yourself from his hold, to lie back against the wooden desk. It’s slightly uncomfortable, and cold against the naked skin of your thighs, but you prop your feet up against the wood in order to present yourself to him.
It’s lewd, a temptation, you’re trying to lure him in. And it works. Of course it does. Negan can’t deny you any longer, not with that sweet smile, beautiful little face. He wants nothing more than to know that you’re his, and only his.
“Beautiful girl.” He rumbles, splaying a hand over your stomach, running it up over the curve of your breasts. The silk nightgown is pushed upwards, until it’s pooled around your neck. Negan leans down, helping you to sit up a little, so that he can remove the nightgown completely.
Now, you lay bare on his desk, causing him to whistle at the sight. There’s already a damp spot near the edge, where your pussy had stained the wood, a mixture of slick and Negan’s spit. There was another pool forming, where your legs now lay spread at the end, awaiting the blessed moment you’d been dreaming about.
Negan is careful about it, sticks his fingers back into your sopping hole, making sure it’s maintained it’s previous elasticity. It practically sucks him in, and to prove your point, you squeeze your muscles around his fingers.
“Okay, baby. Don’t get impatient on me.” He coos, one hand remaining on your thigh, whilst the other works at removing his pants.
They drop to the floor with a heavy noise, to which he doesn’t bother to fully move them, letting the denim slump around his boots. You prop yourself up a little, looking down the length of your body to where Negan finally reveals his cock.
It’s thick, much thicker than his fingers. How is that even supposed to fit in there? It’s wide around the base and tip, long and curved upwards, towards his stomach. Subconsciously, your legs close a little, but Negan keeps his grip firm as he presses your thighs against the desk.
“You still wanna do this, baby?” He asks, despite his greater instinct to just claim what’s in front of him. Admittedly, it’s been a little difficult to hold off this long.
If you were anyone else, the act would be long done by now. But this was different. You were different. He still wanted to take care of you, like you were a helpless little girl, except you weren’t. This was your plan, after all. Like a lioness, you’d hunted him down, and there no way you were going home without your reward.
A smile spreads on your lips, looking up at him through your lashes, “Yes, please.”
It’s said in that same sweet tone, as if you’re not actually begging for his cock, but another bedtime story. Like you aren’t naked on his desk, pussy dripping down onto the wood, completely spread out like a lavish meal.
“Good girl.” He mumbles, pulling your legs so that they dangle over either of his shoulders, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. At this angle, he can already feel your heat, so, so close to him.
One hand grips his cock, the other planted across your stomach, a large hand splayed over your skin for comfort. Negan looks down, guiding himself to finally press against your core. There’s a slight resistance, but in no time, he’s length is being sucked into your gooey walls.
There’s a pensive look on your face, which he notices, causing a smile to grow on his own. Your nose twitches slightly, chewing on your bottom lip, trying to adjust to the new feeling. It doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just strange.
But, Negan is only able to get the first few inches in, until there’s a hitch in the process. He leans down, letting you wrap your arms around him, and captures your mouth in a kiss. You give in instantly, preoccupied completely with licking into his mouth, therefore not fully aware of the firm thrust he gives to break through the barrier.
You hiss into his mouth, accidentally biting down onto his lip. Negan doesn’t seem to mind, as he begins pressing kisses down your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of bloody marks in his wake.
“Shh, you’re okay,” He soothes, keeping his hips still, not yet pressing any further until the pain has subsided, “Ain’t gonna hurt for much longer.”
The promise proves fruitful, as within a few moments, you’re wiggling a little in his grasp, giving the silent permission to continue. You look down the gap between you, watching as Negan’s cock slowly pushes further in, until your hips are finally flush.
“Breathe, babygirl.” He murmurs, still licking and sucking over your skin. The wet trail continues, until Negan pays attention to your plump breasts, his tongue collecting the beads of sweat that’s built from the exertion.
You claw at his neck, one hand making it’s way into his hair, scratching slightly at his scalp. Then he’s moving, gently pulling out, until just the tip remains. You breathe through the uncomfortable feeling as he pushes back in, a mixture of your slick and a little blood dripping down your ass, only to pool on the wooden desk.
It’s intense, having Negan stretch you open on his cock, the kind of sensation you’d never felt before. You keep watching between you, keen interest in your eye, which he finds adorable. Even as he speeds up a little, the twinge of pain subsiding into a constant flow of pleasure, you’re still fighting to keep your eyes on him.
He readjusts, bringing your legs back down, only to firmly pin your thighs to the desk. In this position, you’re completely spread for him, causing a blush of embarrassment to rise on your cheeks.
It doesn’t last long, as Negan has found the perfect angle to thrust up into you, causing you to raggedly moan and your eyes to squeeze shut. He continues to hammer the same spot, and it feels heavenly, like his cock is actually in your stomach.
You scratch at the wooden desk, gripping for dear life as Negan holds you still, both large hands planted across your thighs. He’s gripping and kneading them, and you hope they’ll be bruised the next day.
But finally being sheathed in your wet heat is it’s own struggle for Negan, as he’s trying to hold off cumming for as long as possible. He’d been rock-hard the entire time you were making out, but this? It was a victory better than war.
So he moves one hand off your thigh, bringing it to your swollen and abused clit. You gasp as he makes contact, tracing firm, tight circles over the muscle that make your eyes roll back, pathetic noises leaving your parted lips.
“That’s it, baby. Cum for daddy.” He praises, leaning down to leave dark marks on the junction of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as Negan continues to fuck into you, hitting that fleshy spot that causes you to cry.
It’s obvious when your orgasm hits you, as your whole body shudders, moans tapered off into high-pitched whines of pleasure. Your gooey walls clench around Negan’s cock, making him groan into your flesh, putting more force behind his thrusts.
Luckily, it’s all he needs to finish, pumping his cum deep into your channel. The overstimulation causes your hips to twitch, legs jolting with the sudden sensation, but Negan tests your limits, shallowly pushing his seed deeper inside you.
Your nails scratch at his neck, eyes pricking with overworked tears, “It’s too much.” You squeak out, voice all raw from all those noises that had been forced from your throat.
“Okay, beautiful,” Negan whispers, pulling himself out of your sensitive cunt, hands gently soothing the bruised skin of your thighs, “But next time, you’ll take it until I say so.”
It’s vaguely threatening, and causes another wave of arousal to ebb through your stomach. However, your mind focuses on one thing, a bashful and pleased smile growing on your tired face.
“Next time?”
It catches Negan off guard slightly, realising what he’d said. That, and you just look so happy, like you’ve finally gotten what you wanted.
“Of course, darlin’. You belong to me.” He assures, savouring the fact that you were so eager to be with him, despite everything.
That night, the nightmares didn’t return. Of course, you didn’t go back to your bed, but instead Negan’s. He took care of you from then on out, it was safe to say you were his new favourite.
271 notes · View notes
astrologylunadream · 6 months
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What They Want for Christmas?💌🎀🎄 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)
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♪All I want for christmas is you~💕
Hey it's Lunadream💓 Christmas is here~ so it's a must to see what that person on your mind has on their list!🗒💫 hope you find your message🍨
Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)
Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🤍
Pile 1☃️
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Pile 2🌸
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Pile 3🐈
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Pile 4🦢
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Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡
On to the readings —> ☁️🎄🌸
Pile 1☃️
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Sign energy: Decay, Venus, Deep, Adventure, Outfit, North node, 2nd house, Virgo, Saturn, Capricorn, 🛑🟨👄👉
🎄Your person's energy: Ah so you're person has very sweet yet defined features, also feminine aura about them💓 They may have Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn, or Aquarius placements in their chart. Your person is so soft and cute but also really attractive physically, their lips draw you in so deep omg they have really nice lips😳💞 There may be a significant age gap for some of my pile 1's but your person can simply seem mature for their age like responsible and well behaved. I'm getting the feeling your person doesn't let themselves have fun that often, they try to limit crazy or wild experiences to prevent the risk of huge problems in their life. Ohh but your person has such an effortless sensual beauty about them, I feel like their jaw/neck is one of their key features. They are so pretty to you I'm hearing🥺💗 They dress really nice like sensibly and classy, omg they just look so well put together in everything they wear!😫 This may be someone you are unable to love in some way, like something is stopping you from feeling their love. Yellow may look good on your person, the color could be significant. They have a hot voice haha, like do you just stare at their lips when they speak??😂💋 Their touch is so irresistible to my pile 1's like the way they touch you would probably feel really pleasing.🥴 You guys are really far into loving this person, like these feelings for them have run deep even until the end of the year🎄💗 You low key want to kiss this person I'm hearing aww ^v^ My pile 1's have such a soft and adorable love for this person like how could they ignore that??
🎀What they want for christmas: Absence, Center, Face, Spiral, 2nd house, Fire, 3rd house, 4th house, Lilith, Sun,😋🧨♉❌ Ohh okay there's definitely something your person wants to rid of this season oml like that is their christmas present, now I'm called to say it's people bothering them that they wish would just leave them be for now😞 This could be family or just anyone around them that is causing problems for them during this time. They want to have peace and quiet away from any gossip or fake smiles and be able to enjoy the finer things, they also want to be comfortable and home for christmas. They don't wanna be the center of attention right now, like literally all they want is some time to themselves to enjoy the holidays!!😫 Ugh I feel so bad for them like seriously my pile 1's your person is so done with people invading their personal space and taking up their time. All they want for christmas is to take a break from all the drama and go slow with things, sit back and relax while listening to christmas tunes.🎄🎷💕 They want to go off the radar and enjoy a christmas in solitude only with those closest to them they trust. They may also wish to spend less money this year, and spend the holidays simpler. For some of my pile 1's this person wishes to run away with you for christmas, that is one gift they desire is to go far away to a desolate yet beautiful winter wonderland and take you with them.🥺❄☃️ This year they may feel less of a need for anything under their tree, ohh but one thing is that they sort of want is to have you in their possesion for christmas, like their special little gift to unwrap😳 But overall they just to have a pleasant cozy time enjoying christmas in peace.💭🎀❄
💌Messages from your person: This is all my fault, It's too early, I'm loyal to you, Just dance with me to holiday tunes, I only listen to you, Do you think I'm hot? I want to spend time with you this christmas, Listen up (Haha your person has a lot to say omg🥰) Extra cards: Nice, Pluto, Princess, Wild, Feminine
Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the snowing snowman emoji~☃️ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗
Pile 2🌸
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Sign energy: Seduction, Gap, Pretty, Search, Mindfulness, 2nd house, Mars, Juno, Eros, Mercury, 🤯😴👗🏚
🎄Your person's energy: We have a very attractive person for my pile 2's!! I feel like you guys have a noticeable height difference. (so cute >w<) Taurus, Aries, Scorpio, Gemini and Virgo are posible placements, may have mercury or mars in 2nd house. Haha your person is searching for the one💍 They are very serious about committing and finding their life partner I mean they are so passionate about finding their future spouse omg💞 They know how to reel others in romantically with their voice and way of flirting, this is someone they are very good at��🌹 They can turn anyone on pretty easily I'm hearing, because they're super smooth and witty. Now your person definitely has good looks, you find them pretty and hot at the same time like "which one??"😰 Lol it's both. Somewhere in your mind you are low key curious what they look like in a dress😏 (no matter gender haha) Ah my pile 2's your person is really desirable and attractive!! You may feel they are the one for you, and you might know their flirting tricks all too well. They blow you away nonetheless with their stunning natural beauty and charms, aw and I bet their voice could put you to sleep like it's so soft and soothing to you.😭💗 Their voice turns you on too, and the things they say... they definitely seduce you well. You want to dress up for this person, and you think of them often. They are maybe even sweeter than cake to you, that is how they make you feel my pile 2's! <3
🎀What they want for christmas: Practice, Store, Control freak, Vent, Disturbance, Venus, Scorpio, Air, 1st house, Eros,💪🧡🎢😩 Wow okay this is alot. So your person is definitely obsessing over something for christmas, like it has to happen or else!!🤯 Now I'm getting not so much as getting gifts for themselves, but they want to buy gifts for others. Lol they also wish they could buy love for christmas I'm hearing🥺💓 Omg pile 2 I think they want you for christmas, like they want to have you all to themselves!!😫🙏 Loving you may be their christmas wish, and getting to unwrap you too🥵 They have a lot of crazy fantasies for christmas of my pile 2's but I will try to keep it shallow as possible. Your body is their most desired gift, let's just say that. And they wish they could have a lot of fun with their christmas toy🫣🧤♨️ I mean endless control and play time. That is ALL I will be saying for that I'm sorry maybe take it over to one of my spicy readings lol anyways as the song goes, all they want for christmas is you like wow.🥺 They want lots of pleasures for christmas, and a lot of indulging. Splurging on shopping and taking photos for christmas, I feel like they wanna buy a lot of stuff they find pretty😂 Buying you christmas gifts may be something they wish to do someday, they want to give you so much for the holidays. They want to please you because it gives them a sense of fulfillment too. Taking you to stores and buying you whatever you want, that is on their christmas list😖🗒💞
💌Messages from your person: We would be perfect together, I want to protect you, Don't hold back, Think of me, I get lost in your eyes, I know exactly how you like it, Do as I say, Don't give me the silent treatment (Omg😳🤭) Extra cards: Routine, January, Slow, Social media, Optimist
Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the pink flower emoji~🌸 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗
Pile 3🐈
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Sign energy: Apology, Hard, Bottom, First impression, Moon, Sun, Aquarius, 8th house, Cancer, Jupiter, 🔍🟧🧚‍♀️🍎
🎄Your person's energy: This is a very emotional person on pile 3's mind, bright and angelic. Possible placements are Cancer, Leo, Aquarius, Scorpio, Sagittarius and Pisces. I feel like you are heavily looking into this person for whatever reason, seeking out all the possibilities. You probably learn more about them way easier than math.🤣 The color orange may be significant or you've been seeing it lately. You have been keeping an eye on this person especially through online sources, trying to discover what they're all about🧐💭 They may have peaked your interest at first because you found them physically *ahem* attractive♨️ and now you've been trying to look deeper beyond their pretty face and know get to know them well. They may have done something they regret in the past, causing them to feel bad or upset with themselves. They really do have an ethereal beauty to them, like an elf or fairy. You want to know a lot about this person, to know them so well it's almost scary.😨 Because they interest you so much, and you like being curious. Some of you know this person through online so you look at their photos with wonder of who they really are behind it all, you wanna get to the bottom of it. I feel like you guys like having something to obsess over and hey it keeps things interesting for some of you so that is why you are so involved with your person.💗✔ I'm getting some detective vibes from you guys, trying to discover your person <3
🎀What they want for christmas: Meant to be, Captive, Regret, Locked, Cold, Moon, 6th house, Uranus, Venus, Eros, 🎭🧬🍁🦉 Aww so for some of you, this person really wants to be with their mother for christmas.🥺💞💞 How sweet. For some of my pile 3's this person may have family or relatives in canada. They may feel tired and trapped in their routine/job and wanna take time off from their obligations to attend family gatherings and reunions.🥂💫 There is a very specific gift they long for this christmas, they are fixated on receiving love.💏🎄 They are wishing on a star to feel the warm feeling and sweetness that comes from a lover during the holidays. They may regret spending too much time online or through their phone instead of focusing on the love they long for. Your person is definitely dreaming of a white christmas, they want it to be cold and snowing so they can bundle up in the comfort of a blanket with their loved ones.🏠🧣💞 They also imagine the best gift of all would be holding their lover tight to shield them from the cold, and keep them safe and warm in their arms.❤ Having a steamy night with them is also on their list😳 Haha your person really wants a romantic time for the holidays, but they are actually really overthinking about what to get for christmas. Also thinking of what to gift to coworkers or friends, that is a lot of what's weighing on their mind right now. They want all sorts of events and romance for the holidays omg my pile 3's your person really wants to be loved for christmas💓
💌Messages from your person: You'll never forget me, Just listen to me, They're just jealous, I'm in trouble, I should be, You're my problem, Why would you want me? You're the only one for me this christmas (Ahh😆💗) Extra cards: Pretend, Softie, Admiration, Details, Offer
Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the cat emoji~🐈 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗
Pile 4🦢
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Sign energy: Learning, Head, Model, Waist, Bones, 5th house, 3rd house, 10th house, Uranus, Pluto, 🌸🎬🤞👸
🎄Your person's energy: Such lovely vibes for my pile 4's person, powerful magnetic aura too. Leo, Gemini, Capricorn, Aquarius and Scorpio placements are significant, Pluto in 3rd house, Uranus in 5th placements. Your person has really good bone structure I'm hearing, may have model like features especially jawline or bones. Their waistline is highly attractive to you, they have an effortless charm to them.💗 I feel like a lot of people obsessively think of your person, and say possesive things like "they're mine" or "I own you" like everyone wants a piece of them omg🙄 They have a movie star look to them, they just look like the face of a movie. Very unique and creative too, their hairstyle or color is eye catching in some way. I am getting very successful vibes from your person, like they are on the right track✔ Their mind is very deep and magnetic, like they have a hot mind lol. (probably a dark one too😳) The same flower emoji came out that represented pile 2 so for those who felt drawn to that pile maybe check that too. Your person has such a cool vibe to them, untouchable and gorgeous. I feel like they roll their eyes at the invasive comments others make about them, they don't let the little people bother them. They know what they're worth, I feel like this person makes a lot of money😩💲💰 They walk like it's nobody's business omg model walk, and that intense stare ahh my pile 4's your person is killing it😍
🎀What they want for christmas: Romance, Masculine, Chemistry, Short-term, Harm, Virgo, Moon, Aries, Sagittarius, Eros, ♨️🎫🤨🧯 Omg I was not expecting this but your person wants to get on the naughty list apparently.😰👿 We won't be going into details here but wow, just wow. All I will say is that your person wants a usable gift for sure, something they can have their fun with and meet their needs.😭 Unleash their worst side, they want a lot of chemistry. Your person wants to redeem their prize with someone, it is possible this is my pile 4's. Tbh what they really want is a short-term wild night as their christmas present, to let loose from their job/routine and let out all their aggressions on someone🫣 They may simply wish to yell at someone to release all their built up stress from everything they've dealt with this year.💢 Omg they just want to go off on those people who annoy them lmao that would literally be the best christmas present to them.😂🎁 But yeah they have a lot of naughty things on their list, definitely physical fantasies I won't go into but yeah. They want a hot and passionate time with someone, to take away their worries and let out their wild side.🤯 Maybe they feel like showing you for your christmas present, and since they could really feel like dominating someone it could be their hope to satisfy your fantasies of them.💓
💌Messages from your person: The pain will go away, We will be together, Let's listen to christmas music together, I always fantasize about you, Don't just stand there, No, I believe in you, You should smile more. (How cute🤭💫) Extra cards: Compulsive, First love, One of a kind, Despair, Sight
Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the swan emoji~🦢 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗
Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸
Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3
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holymolywhattheheck · 3 months
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"OMG u support Alex!! U support a pedo/groomer/whatever along the lines!"
THIS IS NOT FUCKING OKAY. this rant is going to be so ugly but people FUCKING DOXXXING HIM?? The document has so many shitty gaps in it. And a lot of people are pointing out it's flaws. Alex is a 20 year old mentally unstable young adult, if mentally even that. Someone who had a whole career. Only to be pushed over by someone making some allegations that might as well not be true,considering the latest edits and news.
People are fucking heartless. All this Internet drama and people believe everything they see. I'll be honest I'm petrified. I'm petrified for his health. Do people not realize how dumb it is to just immediately go "listen to victims"!!! When the victims could be lying. Just with no other side of a story, and a 27 page long document with huge gaps in it, people just love to hate. It's true that Alex was mentally ill and is. And then Ven decides to do fucking this? ADMITTING THAT THEY WANTED TO END HIS CAREER? And then mention in the document that they want no threats to him. Fuck them. And as mentioned before, Alex had a suicide scare apparently some time not a while back. And with this. What the fuck.
People love to see the downfall. Fuck those people. Actually fucking fuck those people. What the fuck is wrong with them and their logic.
This shit is horrifying. Doxxing is so so so fucking terrifying. No one knows Alexs part of the story. DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS NOT FUCKING OKAY? SPEAKING FROM A STABLE MIND.
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sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years
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LIZZZ MY LOVEEE
Let’s get some Spencer Reid 😩😩 maybe like flirtatious bickering? Like reader’s doing something and Spencer’s like “you’re doing it wrong” and readers like “no” and he’s like “yeah” and they’re like “then show me how to do it right” : D love you!! AND THE NEW THEME OMG
Oh my god guys look who it is. My baby. Who comes up with the best request ever and some of my favorite things I've ever written have been requested by DIS BABY. Also congrats, you're my first Spencer requester!
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"Spencer." I call out, spinning around in my rolling chair, careful to not disturb the growing tower of cards beside me. He looks at me with wide, curious eyes, cheeks reddening briefly before he takes a step of acknowledgment closer to me. "Why are you stalking me?" The teasing smile on my lips makes a bashful one slip across his face, hands clasping in front of him as he motions past me.
"Not stalking." His tongue clicks, feet carrying him to the table where he looks down at my growing tower. "You're doing it wrong." How am I building a card tower wrong, doctor? I bite back the snarky comments but instead hold my hands out to him with a shrug.
"No I'm not."
"Yes you are." He nods, not willing to compromise and instead just lowers himself down onto the seat beside me and rests rests his elbows on his knees. He leans towards me, nimble fingers rubbing against his sharp jaw.
"Then show me how to do it right, Reid."
He does.
He spends the next thirty minutes deconstructing the tower that I've built out of pure boredom and built a masterpiece in its wake, his own hands guiding mine on where and how to place the cards so they'll stay.
Of course he would be good at this, of course he would know, architecturally, how to build 'the best' card tower.
"Didn't you used to have issues with communicating with women." I ask, looking down at his hand that's still lingering on my own and he's quick to snap it back to his lap, almost as if he'd been burned by my touch.
"I used to have issues communicating period." He laughs gently, his smile making my chest warm with fond adoration, loving the way his brows knit together in confusion. "Why?"
"You just seem uncharacteristically close." He suddenly becomes aware of the lack of space between us and takes my observation as a chance to move but my hands quickly reach out to stop him from rolling away in his chair, enjoying his closeness.
"Sorry." He mutters, eyes flickering down to look down at his hands in his lap. "I find it easy to be comfortable around you." His confession makes my heart swell with pride, happy that after all the years of being sort of more than friends, we've finally bridged that gap where he's no longer awkward around me.
"That's kind of sweet, Spence." My bottom lip juts out in a dramatic pout and I finally manage to pull an awkward groan from him as he pushes my chair away from him.
"Yeah, yeah."
"No, it is." I clap, reaching out to grab his hands so I can pull him into a loose hug. He doesn't push me away nor does he make any sort of complaint, just rests his hands against the small of my back and tucks his chin into my shoulder. "Progress!" I whisper with a huge grin, patting his back gently.
"Still don't like hugs." He mutters but doesn't make any move to actually move, he just stays where he is, heart pounding against his ribs.
"You like me enough to like hugs." That's what does it. He's immediately rolling away from me, shaking out his arms and rising to his feet with a tired smirk, his eyes rolling in denial.
"Shut up."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife
@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1
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babybluebex · 1 year
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𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: series masterlist | a new preacher comes to your town, and you’re overwhelmed by him. you try to keep away from father james, but, the more you see him and the more he kisses your hand, the more you realize that staying away won’t be so easy. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jamie bower x fem!reader (rpf) 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 7k 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: rpf (real person fiction), smut MINORS DNI, p in v sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, heavy breeding kink (the last line of the song is literally "i'm coming inside" are u kidding me), preacher kink, praise kink, religious themes, age gap (reader is early 20s, jamie is 34), jamie has a huge god complex omg 𝐀/𝐍: i’ve been working on this on again and off again since the music video came out in august, so take it before it drives me more insane than it already has lol
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All morning, you could have sworn the preacher was looking at you. 
It was a hot summer Sunday morning, one where you wore your nicest dress, just as your mother had told you to. You had forgotten how hot it got at home; after being at college for the past few years, you had gotten acclimated to the big city, and you couldn't remember what home was like. 
To be honest, you had been dreading church. You had lied to your parents when you told them that you had kept up the habit while at college, and you despised the thought of wasting a good Sunday morning, even though you were on vacation. No matter what, you had gotten up and gotten dressed, and you were tailing behind your parents as they led the charge into the church. 
The building itself was miniscule, surrounded by the desert on all sides, set apart from the rest of town. Your hometown was small, so small that people usually only lumped it in with the nearby biggest city and didn’t know that your town even existed on its own. But it did, and, in a town like that, everybody knew everybody else’s business. 
Which made the preacher all that more confusing to you. 
You could vaguely remember your mother telling you about the appearance of a new preacher at your church after the former pastor retired. It had been months ago, and you only remembered the name she had told you: James Bower. There were other details as well, something about him being young and British, but you didn’t really listen too closely to that phone call with your mother. She had been going on and on about church and you tended to tune that out. 
“Mom,” you said quickly as you approached the church, seeing the door hanging open, welcoming everyone inside. Standing at the open door was a man, dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, a black hat covering his head and shading his face. He was older than you, but also younger than your parents, and he was shaking hands with every man that walked in front of him and setting kisses on the ladies’ cheeks. “Who is that?” 
“Oh, that’s Father James,” your mother told you, sucking at the back of her teeth for a moment. “I told you about him, he replaced Father Nicholas.”
“Yeah, I remember you telling me,” you said softly. “He’s just… Younger than I thought.” And, by the flashes of a sharp jawline and deadly eyes that you could see as you approached, he was far more attractive than you would have taken a man like him for. 
“He’s good,” your mother said carefully, as if she was controlling her tongue. “Cares about what he preaches about, really believes it.” 
“That’s good,” you mumbled. 
Finally, it was your turn to be greeted by the preacher, and you were struck uncharacteristically silent by him. His voice, a deep baritone timbre, got under your skin as he greeted your mother with a kiss, and he gave your father a firm handshake. “And who do we have here?” Father James Bower asked, his steel-blue eyes cutting you with his gaze. 
You could tell instantly: this man would be trouble. “This is our daughter,” your mother said. “Visiting from college.” 
“Ah, yes,” Father James said, his lips stretching into a smile. He took your hand in his, his skin rough and dry but lovely to feel, and he pressed his lips to your fingers, greeting you with an old-fashioned kiss. “Your mother told me stories about you.” 
“Good stories, I hope?” you chuckled lightly, and Father James’ smile stayed as he dropped your hand. 
“Only the best,” he told you. 
“I’ve heard about you too, Father James,” you said, and you watched something flicker in his eyes, a quiet kind of recognition, although what he was recognizing, you had no idea. 
“Good things?” he teased, and you smiled coyly at him. Two could play that game. 
“Oh, no, awful things,” you said, and your mother laughed. “Just the worst.” 
“I guess I’ll have to redeem myself,” Father James said. “I think Marjorie saved you lot a seat in the front; what a dear.” Your mother and father surged ahead, finding the seats that Father James indicated, but a quick and tight grip to your wrist kept you in place. 
Father James held you back, his thumb smoothing nicely down your wrist, and he lifted your hand back to his mouth, kissing your fingers again. “And that’ll be Jamie to you, love,” he said softly, barely loud enough for you to hear. “You can drop that James business.” 
“If you say so, Father” you said softly. 
“Don’t call me that, either,” he said. “Just Jamie.” 
“Jamie,” you said and you sighed out a deep breath. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
The service was odd. By all accounts, it was a perfectly good service, normal by all means, but something about the young and handsome Father James (or Jamie, as he told you) leading the sermon was different in a way that you couldn’t tell if you liked or not. Your mother was right— he obviously cared about what he preached, that morning’s work set on the sin of temptation, and he raised his voice and delivered his sermon with an expert hand. 
But he was looking at you the whole time. He was borderline staring at you, and you shifted in your seat, wondering what was the matter. Of course, you could think the obvious— that he was thinking of you as he preached on temptation, you, the pretty young thing that had walked through his doors— but it felt wrong to even consider that Jamie would stoop that low. He was a man of God, no matter how unconventional he looked with his rings and gold bracelets and the tattoos on his middle fingers.
You got to speak with him further after the service, while everyone was leaving the house of God. You stepped outside with a shiver, despite the sticky heat, and your mother grabbed your hand as she told you that she was going to bring the car around. “Maybe you should go to talk to James,” she said. “He always looks so lonely, and it seems like he likes you.”
“Likes me?” you echoed. 
“He didn’t kiss my hand twice,” your mother said with a shrug. “He didn’t ask me to call him Jamie.” You followed your mother’s gaze to just on the other side of the small wooden bridge, to a little garden, where Jamie stood, looking out of place in his all-black attire, looking down at the ground as his hand rubbed his chin. 
“Are you encouraging me to find romance with your preacher?” you asked with a smile, and your mother rolled her eyes. 
“Maybe not romance,” she said. “You’re too young for that. But friendship, definitely.” 
You weren’t too young for that, you knew it, but you understood what she meant. Don’t fall in love with the preacher. That should be easy. You approached him quietly, not wanting to startle him if he was lost in thought, but he turned those devilish steel-blue eyes to you in an instant. “You,” he said lightly, dropping his hand. 
“Me,” you shrugged. “I, umm, really liked your sermon.” 
“Thank you, love,” Jamie said. A moment passed where he watched you, and he suddenly said, “You’re lying to your parents.” 
“Excuse me?” you asked. “What do you mean—”
“You don’t go to church when you’re at university,” Jamie said quickly. “I can tell, you looked completely lost the whole time.” 
“Is it that obvious?” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself, and, when Jamie nodded, you muttered, “Fuck!” 
“How long are you in town?” Jamie asked. His hands drifted to his pants, digging into his pocket, and he extracted a lean carton of cigarettes, along with a lighter. He was quick to push a cigarette in-between his lips, and you watched as he lit it up. 
“Oh!” you said quickly. You were staring, just like he was. “Umm, just until Friday.”
“One more week,” Jamie laughed, blowing the smoke from his mouth. “I bet you can’t wait to go back to your friends and your little sinful ways, can you?” 
“What makes you think I live in sin?” you asked. The exchange felt playful, not necessarily too mean-spirited, and Jamie grinned around his cigarette. 
“I know girls like you,” he said. “You wear your little dresses and sing your little hymns, but it’s all a disguise to cover up the way you really live. I bet you’ve even kissed a boy, haven’t you?” He put on a shocked look, like he was truly disappointed, and it made you laugh.
“You’ve got me figured out,” you chuckled. Then, a boldness washed over you, and you couldn’t control the way you added, “And I’ve done a lot more than kiss a few boys.” 
Jamie raised his dark eyebrows at you, plucking his cigarette from between his lips. “You have?” he asked. “Anything you need to repent for? I am a preacher, after all, I can help.” 
“No, nothing like that. I just…” You shrugged, and mumbled, “Okay. You’ve got me. I haven’t done anything like that.” 
“Why did you say you did?” Jamie asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 
“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “To make you like me, I guess. Guys like girls who know about that stuff, right?”
“Oh, little lamb,” Jamie cooed softly. “I used to run around with some bad guys when I was your age, I’ve got the marks to prove it,  and I had my fill of girls who were trying to impress me. I like you more, knowing that you’re a good girl who hasn’t done anything of that sort.” He smoked for a moment, blowing it at the ground, and he added, “You should be going.” 
“Why?” you asked. “Have I done something wrong?” 
“No, you didn’t,” Jamie said. “But I might.”
“What do you mean?” you asked. 
“I really want to kiss you,” Jamie told you, and your heart slammed against your ribcage at his confession. 
“Is that…” you began. “Is that allowed?”
“Allowed, yes,” Jamie said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “But, frowned upon? Very much so.” 
“Why?” you asked. “Is it me?” 
“No, darling, it’s not you,” Jamie said. “I’m a man of God. I can’t just kiss any girl, I need to have intentions about it, and my intentions… My thoughts about you… Are less than worthy of a man like myself.” 
Lightning rocked your belly, and you took a step backwards. “Oh,” you said. “I understand. Umm… Yeah, it’ll be good if I leave.” Jamie nodded silently in agreement, finishing up his cigarette, and you mumbled, “Will I see you on Wednesday? At night service? I bet my parents will make me go.” 
“Yes, you will,” Jamie replied. He hesitated for a moment, his mouth open, obviously wanting to say something, and he finally added, “Wear something white.” 
“Why?”
Jamie looked at you with those paralyzing blue eyes, and he said, “You’re as beautiful as an angel. You should dress like one.” 
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You hardly got any sleep that night. Between bouts of nightmares— nothing you could remember but left you with a nasty feeling when you woke up hyperventilating— you were plagued by the idea of Jamie. 
Every time you closed your eyes, you could only see him. His blond hair, his blue eyes, his plush lips, that smile that bordered goodness and badness. As you laid awake in your small bed, the tiny one you had grown up in, you wondered what he was doing. Was he asleep, as you too should be? Maybe he was up, working on a sermon. A selfish part of you allowed yourself to think that, perhaps, he was awake, thinking of you. 
That idea made your thighs tingle. You knew how terrible it was to think of your preacher like that, but he had said it himself. His intentions with you weren’t worthy of a man of God. Jamie had basically confessed to wanting to kiss you and maybe even more, and you hadn’t been brave enough to challenge him on it. You regretted your timidness, and you buried your head under your pillow as you tried to get any sleep at all.
This routine continued for days. Nightmares, then Jamie. Jamie, then more nightmares. You didn’t see him during the day, so you were left with only the memory of your two tiny interactions. You could remember the way his blond hair had swayed in the wind as he smoked, the faint hint of his cologne carrying on the air as he kissed your hand; you couldn’t escape him. You knew that, the next time you saw him, you had to tell him. 
Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to see Jamie. Wednesday night came around quickly, and you tore apart your closet looking for the little white sundress that you knew you still had from when you were in high school. You’re as beautiful as an angel, his accent rang in your head as you tugged the dress over your head, and you sighed at yourself in the mirror. The irony wasn’t lost on you— dressing like an angel, yet still tempting the preacher. You wondered what he would do when he saw you; would he try to kiss you again? Maybe he wouldn’t do anything, and he would keep up the game of cat and mouse that you had. Honestly, you liked it. Being wanted was nice, but there was something fun about being desired and not being allowed to act on those desires. It made everything sweeter. 
Your parents didn’t say anything as you exited your room, grabbing a thin sweater just in case it was cold in the sanctuary (it never was, but your mother urged you to come prepared). The car ride was quiet, and your hands shook as your father parked in the small lot, steadying yourself for meeting Jamie. 
He stood at the door to the church again, greeting everyone as they came in. He wore a dark wide-brimmed hat, his usual suit, the shirt buttons done all the way up to his slender throat. He looked cool and smooth, and he grinned like a cat when he saw you. You had never felt more like a mouse in your life, and you gratefully took his hand into yours. 
“My, oh my,” Jamie said, his eyes scanning your frame. You should have felt uncomfortable under his gaze, but you didn’t, despite the obviously hungry look in his light eyes. Even if he hadn't told you about his intentions, it wouldn't be hard to figure out why he was looking at you. “Who is this vision in white I see before me?” 
Your face went warm, and you managed to mutter out, “Thank you, Father.” Jamie did his usual kisses to your fingers, which only served to make your face go even hotter. You felt like everyone was looking at you but somehow, Jamie’s soft eyes soothed you. It seemed like nothing bad could happen so long as you were in Jamie's arms. Knowing this, you tugged him close by his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his smooth cheek, and you heard him draw in a quick breath at your meager affection. 
“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie told you. His cheeks tinged just a shade of pink, not even enough to really call it a blush— if you didn’t know any better, you would have attributed it to the heat and dry air. “I’d like to speak to you after the service, if that’s possible.” 
“Of course,” you told him. “Am I in trouble?” 
“Oh, no,” Jamie said. “Quite the opposite. I’d like to discuss our relationship; or where I’d like it to go, that is.”
You swallowed thickly, nervously, and you said, “Alright. I’ll see you then.”
Like on Sunday, Jamie’s sermon was beautiful. He spoke with power and grace, and you could hardly believe it when the end of it came. You could watch him speak for hours and never get bored of it. You stayed sitting in the pew as your parents stood, and your mother furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Are you alright?” she asked, and you picked at the bottom of your dress. 
“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m alright. Jamie just said he wanted to talk to me after the sermon.”
“Oh,” your mother said. “What about?”
“I’m not sure,” you lied. “I think he might try to ask me on a date.” 
Your mother ground her back teeth; you could see her annoyance. “Make good decisions with him,” she said. “Don’t let him be let astray.” 
“I won’t, Mom,” you told her, your stomach twisting. You knew that you absolutely were leading him astray, but maybe he had a good plan on how to keep your relationship pure. Based on the way he was talking to you on Sunday, though, there was no way you could stay pure with him. “Jamie is good, I won’t do anything bad to him.” 
Jamie stood at his altar as everyone slowly filed out, making kind conversation with the people who approached him, and you watched him as you chewed on your bottom lip. He looked so good, and you crossed your legs as you waited. Finally, the last person left, the heavy wooden doors banging closed behind them, and Jamie turned his gaze towards you. 
Silently, he stepped away from the altar and towards you, the heavy heels of his boots clicking against the creaky wood floors. “You look beautiful,” Jamie told you as he sat down next to you, pulling off his hat and ruffling up his blond hair. 
You nodded anxiously. “You do too,” you told him. “Very handsome.” 
“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie said. “Now, I wanted to speak to you about… Us. I think it’s obvious that I can’t go on being polite and nice with you.” 
“Is it?” you asked. “I mean, you said you wanted to kiss me—“
“You sweet girl,” Jamie said with a little pout. “Did you really not know? I want to ruin you.” 
“Oh,” you said sharply. “I-I mean, I figured, but I didn’t want to say anything and assume a-and then make a fool out of myself.” 
“No fools here,” Jamie said. His hand touched your thigh, his hand impossibly warm against you, and you laid a gentle hand on top of his, letting your fingers nudge his. “I like knowing what you’re thinking. Tell me what’s on your mind.” 
“Honestly?” you asked with a sigh, and Jamie nodded. “How badly I wish you would kiss me.” 
Quickly, he leaned into you, and he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle and simple, and you leaned into him as his hand raised to gently touch your cheek. His rings were cool against your skin, and you pressed yourself closer to him as he held you carefully. He tasted like cigarettes and warm skin, all man and all Jamie, and he gently smoothed his teeth against your bottom lip, biting just enough to make you smile, before he fell away from you. He didn’t pull away completely, though, touching his forehead against yours and taking a deep breath. “Good,” he whispered. “Now I’d like to do something else.” 
“What is that?” you asked. 
“I think I’d like to make love to you,” Jamie told you. “Only if you want that, though.” 
You nodded quickly. “I want that,” you told him. “But, um, I’m a little nervous.” 
“Because you’ve never done it before?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly. “We don’t have to. I’d be happy to take you to dinner and drop you off back at your house, leaving you completely intact.” 
“Or…” you started. “You could fuck me here and now, and give into temptation.” 
“Oh, I’d love to do that,” Jamie said softly. He tilted his head, as if contemplating kissing you again. “I’d really love to… Tell me to stop and I will.” 
“I won’t,” you breathed, and you met him for another kiss. This one was instantly more, instantly hungrier, his warm tongue snaking between your lips and into your mouth as he held you close. His hands grabbed your waist and he tugged you close, and he broke the kiss to take a deep breath. His hands smoothed down to your thighs, and he pulled you into his lap, your legs parting wide to envelop his hips. He pulled at your pretty sundress as he kissed you again, and you carded your fingers through his hair as he claimed you again, chasing you into a hungry kiss. 
Your hips rocked down onto his as your knees pressed into the hard wood of the pew, aching just a little, and Jamie’s hand pressed into your ass and shoved your hips down onto him as his bucked up into you. You felt his hardness through his trousers, pressing up into you, and you gasped at the feeling. “How long’s it been?” you whispered, and Jamie pressed his forehead to yours again before stealing another quick kiss. 
“Years,” he mumbled. “S’nice not to have to do this myself.” 
“You masturbate?” you asked with a giggle. “Naughty preacher.” 
You yelped as his hand came down onto your ass, spanking you hard, the sound of it reverberating through the empty sanctuary. “I’m a grown man,” he growled through gritted teeth. “I have needs. As of Sunday, though, I’ve been insatiable.” 
“Lucky me,” you smiled, and Jamie gave you a half-smile, more of a smirk than anything. “You gonna fuck me hard?” 
“Keep talking to me like that and I just might,” Jamie chuckled. “You have no idea what I’ve imagined as I fucked my hand. It’s like I told you, I want to ruin you.” 
“Ruin me,” you begged him, leaning forward and kissing his smooth neck. Your hands fell from his hair and down to his shirt, and you started to unbutton his shirt. The more skin you exposed, the more ink you saw, and you gaped at him as you smoothed your hands down his shaved chest. He was covered in tattoos, all on his chest and sternum and belly, and your mouth watered at the sight of them. “Oh my God…” 
“I told you, I used to run around with a bad crowd,” Jamie told you, his hands pressing upwards into your dress. “Rock music and girls, it was… But this is better. You are better than all of that.” 
“You flatter me,” you laughed. “You haven’t had me yet.” 
Jamie shrugged. “I know a good fuck when I see one,” he said. “Old habits die hard, I guess.” 
“Stop it,” you mumbled as you blushed,  and Jamie grabbed handfuls of your ass, rucking your dress up past your hips. “What made you want to join the church?” 
“I grew up going,” Jamie told you as your hands fell to his pants, playing with his belt but not undoing it. Your heart beat deep inside your chest at the prospect of undressing him and seeing his cock, a sort of anxious glee making your heart race, and you listened intently as Jamie told you his story. “Me, my brothers… But when I was young, your age, I rebelled against it and had a sinful lifestyle, all of that that I told you about… But I got tired of that. I got tired of existing just for pleasure and sin, and I turned back to the church to guide me. But then you— You came into my life just a few days ago, and I already know that you’re what I was made for. I was made to guide you, to help you… I’m not supposed to be here like this, but I can pray for forgiveness for this one night.” 
“I’ve never believed in this sort of stuff,” you admitted. “But maybe, with your guidance, I can find a way to come back home.” 
“I’d do anything for you,” Jamie said. “Now, little lamb, I need to be inside you.” 
“Need you too,” you mumbled, and you finally resolved yourself to open his pants. You undid his belt and tugged it out of the loops, and your fingers shakily went for the button and zipper, pulling it down. “Jamie, I’m a little nervous.” 
“That’s okay,” Jamie said. “That makes me feel better, I’m terrified. But I need you more than I’m scared of you.” 
“Me too,” you told him. You took a deep breath and reached your hand down into his trousers, and your hand was quickly filled by his hard cock. He felt thick and heavy and hot, and you pulled him from out of his pants to get a proper look at him. His cock was flushed red, uncut, with a bead of creamy pre-cum already leaking from his tip. “Oh, wow.” 
“Like what you see?” Jamie chuckled. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a girl all mooney-eyed over my cock. I almost missed it.” 
“It looks really…” you started. “Umm… Big. Will it fit?” 
Jamie laughed, his big smile on display for you. “Will it fit?” he repeated. “Of course it will. I’ll make it.” 
Your skin prickled at his words, and his hands moved from your ass to your front, nudging your panties aside with his slender fingers. His rough fingertips slipped against your skin, feeling you and the little bit of wetness that you had leaking from you. You had been wet ever since Jamie had first kissed you, and Jamie leaned up and gave you another quick kiss as his fingers danced at your cunt. “Are you ready, little lamb?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly before he sank one, long finger inside you. 
You gasped, grabbing hard at his shoulders to keep yourself upright, and Jamie leaned in and kissed at your neck as his finger stroked you from the inside. “Jamie!” you squealed, and he grinned into your neck. 
“Does that feel good, little lamb?” he whispered, and you nodded, digging your nails into his skin. “Good, good girl. Make it hurt, baby.” 
“Jamie,” you groaned as he withdrew from you for a moment before pushing back in, fucking you slowly on his finger. “Want more, God.” 
Jamie continued to kiss your neck as he pushed in a second finger, the stretch of your pussy around him making you whimper in pain and pleasure. Make it hurt, he said. It certainly did, but you loved it. You looked down at yourself, and you drank in the sight of his tattooed fingers plunging deep inside you, the cross on his middle finger shining with your wet. It was so sinful, but Jamie was right; you could pray for forgiveness and God would grant it. Maybe you could even pray together. 
“Need you,” you moaned and worked your hips down onto his fingers, taking him deeper. Your body craved him in a way you had never felt before, hot and needy, and you squirmed in his arms as you tried to get more of him. 
“It’ll hurt if I fuck you now,” Jamie told you, and you kissed him deep, tasting every inch of his mouth. He grunted a bit, then tugged away from your mouth, and he pulled his fingers from you, pressing his hands to either side of your face. “Darling, I know you’re needy, such a sweet little thing you are, but I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. And I’m not ready yet.” 
You pouted and whined, and Jamie pouted back at you, mocking you. “I know, little lamb,” he said. “But I want to take my time with you and savor my sin.” 
“Savor your sin,” you scoffed. “Please, Jamie, I’m ready!”
“I like the way you say my name,” Jamie mumbled, as if he were really thinking about it, and his hands danced in your hair, pushing it back from your face. “If I put my cock in you now, you mustn't get upset at how quickly I finish… It’s been years for me.” 
“I won’t,” you said softly. “I won’t be upset with you.” 
“Alright,” Jamie agreed. “Open your legs a little wider, you’re gonna ride my cock.” 
You did as he told you, parting your thighs even more severely than before, and he grabbed tight at your hips. He guided your hips with his strong grip, his azure eyes watching your every move, and you held his shoulders tightly as he touched the burning head of his cock to your quivering hole. “You ready?” he asked, and you nodded eagerly, your belly flipping. It was really about to happen; you were really about to give your virginity to your preacher. And, God, you had never wanted anything so badly. “Put your full weight on me, don’t be afraid to.” 
“Okay,” you agreed, and Jamie continued his guidance, pulling you down further and further, his hot cock sliding between your sticky folds and into you. The first intrusion punched the breath from your lungs, and you gasped, and Jamie smiled wickedly. This man was no angel; he was a devil, maybe even the Devil, come to corrupt you and bring you into his palace of sin. You loved the hot flame in your chest, and you sealed your fate with a kiss, biting his plush bottom lip. 
“My sweet lamb,” Jamie mumbled, pulling his lips from your teeth. “Feels like heaven inside you… Fuck, this is just what I wanted.”
Without warning, Jamie bucked his hips up into you, burying himself up to his balls inside your cunt, and you gasped loudly at the sudden fullness. You had never realized how empty you felt until you were full of him, and suddenly the world seemed to snap into sharp perspective. Your life had been dull without him, not so shiny and bright; your life, you, had been empty. It wasn’t God’s love that could fix this feeling; it was Jamie’s love. Intentions be damned, you needed him. You would get on your knees and worship your lover and, knowing him, he would relish the prayers of his name and make you pray louder. 
“Jamie,” you whimpered, hanging your head and hiding in his warm neck. He smelled good, like the musk of a man and cigarettes and cologne, and your cunt throbbed around him. He was unmoving inside of you, letting you adjust to the size and feel of him, and you tugged at the blond ends of his hair. If you looked closely, really studied him, you saw that there was a hint of mousy-brown peeking from his scalp. Dyed hair; not what he seemed, a wolf in sheeps’ clothing, intent on devouring innocent little lambs. “Jamie!” 
“That’s it, little lamb,” Jamie whispered, kissing the side of your face as he grabbed hard at your ass, surely leaving bruises in his wake. “Who’s fucking you, love?” 
“You!” you sobbed. You felt tears prick at your eyes, and Jamie’s controlling ways came back, tugging you up on his cock until only the head of him remained inside you, then he pushed you back down, burying himself deep inside you once more. “Jamie, God!”
“Which one?” Jamie growled in your ear. “Me or Him?”
“You!” you cried again. “Always you! I’ll always choose you.” 
“Good girl,” Jamie told you, and his hand landed on your ass in a quick smack. It stung, but it only heightened your sinful pleasure, and you moaned as you allowed your tears to fall. “Confess your sins to your god, tell me what you’ve done.” 
“I lie,” you whimpered. “I cheat, I steal. I’ve done so bad, please forgive me.” 
“Good fuckin’ girl,” Jamie grumbled in your ear, and he bit your neck, sucking hard on the sensitive skin. You knew he was leaving his mark, dark and ugly, on your skin, but, for someone as beautiful as he was, it would be alright. Your ground your hips down onto him, feeling his cock throb inside you, and his hands fell from your hips to stretch along the top of the pew, pressing his fingernails into the polished wood. His head tilted back just so, exposing the smooth and pale column of his throat, and he moaned softly, lightly. “Just like that, love. You’ll make me cum quick like this… I’ll forgive you, darling, you’ve done no wrong in my eyes. All the best lambs are led astray at times, it takes a powerful shepard to bring them back.”
“And that’s you?” you sniffled. 
Jamie’s head whipped up, his fallen eyes snapping open, and he examined your face, the tears streaming down your cheeks and your sputtery lips. You gasped out a sob, still riding his cock, and Jamie touched his hands to your arms, pulling them around his neck. Your front pressed against his, the straps of your dress falling from your shoulders, and Jamie laid a gentle kiss on your spit-covered mouth. “That’s me, lamb,” he said. “So long as you pray to me, I’ll lead you where you should be.” 
“Jamie,” you keened into his warm hands, feeling them explore your body, up your dress and down the front of it. Even his fingers were greedy, and you balked at the touch of him to that special nerve, sending shocks down your spine. “Jamie! Oh my God, fuck!” 
“Keep saying my name,” he said. “You’re doing so well for me. When we’re done here, I’ll take you home, have you pray to me all night. Would you like that? Just you and your god, all alone, worshipping me as I worship your body?”
“Yes!” you sobbed. His cock was so deep inside you, driving you wild, and you squeezed your arms around his neck to draw him into a kiss. Now you were the greedy one, chasing him with a million kisses, and Jamie smiled his winning grin. 
“Already devoted,” he said. “You’ll never stray very far again, will you?”
“Not as long as you fuck me like this,” you told him, and his fingers continued their harsh circles on your clit. Your cunt spasmed at the feeling, your entire body unsure what to do with itself, and you could taste your oncoming orgasm. You could tell that your lover, your god, was close too, and he gnashed his teeth as he pinched your thigh, making your legs open wider. 
“I’ll fuck you better,” he said. “In bed, I’ll kiss you all over and really worship you, I’ll take my time with you. Fuck, sweet thing, I’m cumming inside, I have to.”
“Please,” you begged him. “Give it to me, please, I need it.”
“I’ll worship you all night,” Jamie whispered, controlling your body as you rode him. His hot cock was heavy as he fucked in and out, the drag of him making you feel lightheaded, and you sniffled up your tears as Jamie whispered in your ear. “You’d like that, won’t you? Just you and me…” His eyes squeezed shut, his eyebrows lifting in ecstasy, and, when he spoke next, he was breathless. “I’m cumming, lamb, I’m—”
You felt his release coat your walls, your throbbing cunt milking him for every drop, and you moaned with him, singing your holy hymn. His fingers rubbed you through his orgasm, drawing you to your own finish, and your hips stuttered as you squealed and, for the first time, came. The hot lightning prodded at your thighs and belly and the base of your spine, and you gushed around him, covering you and him with your release. Your breaths came in short gasps as you tried to control your quivering body, and Jamie held you close, matching his breathing to yours. His inked chest was slick with sweat as he pressed himself against you, and you shucked off his jacket and unbuttoned shirt to get to his bare skin. Jamie laughed at you and smoothed his hand down your hair, and he kissed your forehead. 
“Good, good,” he whispered. “Such a good girl. Come here, you’re just shaking like a little leaf.” 
Jamie’s grip was tight around you as he held you, his cock now soft inside you, but he made no move to pull out. “Not exactly immaculate,” he mumbled, and he placed a kiss below your ear. “But it’ll do.” 
“Yes,” you gasped. “Oh, God, I love you.” 
“I love you so much,” Jamie whispered. “My sweet lamb. Come home with me, please, let me worship you.” 
“Of course,” you said. “Anything for you. Only…” 
“What?” Jamie asked. "What's wrong?"
“I think my parents are waiting for me,” you mumbled. “I told them that you were wanting to speak with me and nothing more.” 
“Hmm,” Jamie huffed quickly. “What a talk, huh?”
You giggled, and Jamie helped you up, your legs shaking as you stood. He fell from inside you, his soft cock just as beautiful as him hard, and you both busied yourself with fixing yourselves back into a presentable state. Jamie replaced his wide-brimmed hat to hide his messy hair, but there was no hiding what he had done to you. Bites on your neck, marks on your skin, bruises on your thighs. If this was what worship with him was like, it might be worth it to invest in a good painkiller. 
“Jamie?” you said softly, touching your tender neck, and he stood to his full height, examining you. He tsk-ed his tongue a few times as his fingers touched your neck as well, and he reached for your abandoned sweater, helping you pull it on.
“It won’t hide them,” Jamie started. “But it’ll do.” His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, the solid black heart on his chest visible through the gap, and you smiled at the thought of him. Your handsome man, your God, your inked and pierced and tatted rock-and-roll God. “I don’t mean to scare you with this, lamb, but if you think that this life would suit you, we could… Well, let’s say that you might not be leaving on Friday.” 
“No?” you asked. “I’d be staying here with you, I suppose?” 
“Only if you’d like,” Jamie said quickly. “If you want, you can go back to your life in the big city and forget about this small town, it’s what I would do.” 
“But what if I don’t want that?” you asked. “What if I want to be… I don’t know, your muse? Your Mother Mary? What is a simple girl to a god?”
“You can be whatever you wish to be,” Jamie told you. “I’d marry you right now, in fact, to keep you. But I guess we should probably try to at least act like we’re courting like a normal couple instead of getting married within three days of knowing each other.”
“But couples back then used to do that all the time,” you said quickly. The thought of marriage excited you, wearing his ring and carrying his name and maybe even his child; it was all so invigorating. “My grandfather proposed to my grandmother after a week of meeting her.” 
“A week does not three days make, little lamb,” Jamie chuckled. “How about this? We’re together, using whatever title you’d like and makes you comfortable, and, after enough time, we can tell the church that we’re getting married.” 
“How much time is that?” you asked. 
“Enough time for those hickies to fade, at least,” Jamie said, pressing his thumb to one of the marks on your neck. “Does that sound nice?” 
“Yes,” you said. “It does.” 
Jamie walked you to the front door of the church and he opened the door for you. You saw your parents’ car idling in the small lot, all alone, but, before you could say anything, Jamie pressed his palm to your cheek and kissed you gently. Only his lips pressed to yours, no snaking tongue or wandering hands, and you gasped gently. “Jamie, my parents can see—“
“This was our first kiss,” he told you quickly. “We spoke about how you wished to be closer to God, and I asked you to dinner, and I couldn’t control my urges and kissed you. Now, I’ll make a face and turn away, regretting what I’ve done.” 
“What an actor I’ve got,” you giggled, and Jamie smiled against your mouth. The kiss finally broke, and Jamie smoothed down his jacket on his body as he assumed the anxious energy of a man who wasn’t sure of his actions. “When will I see you next?” you asked. 
“Tonight,” Jamie said. “For dinner. I’ll pick you up at your house.”
“Alright,” you said. “Umm… Goodbye, my God.” 
“Goodbye, my lamb,” Jamie said, and you felt his steely blue gaze on you as you turned and made quick time to your car, sliding into the backseat. 
“So,” your mother said slowly as you slammed the car door shut. “You and Father James…” 
“He said he could see me struggling with my faith,” you lied quickly, your neck burning with the marks he gave you. If you craned your head and looked at yourself in the rearview mirror, you could even see the red patches that would bloom to purple overnight. “And he helped me pray.” 
“And what else?” 
You swallowed thickly. “He asked me to dinner,” you said carefully. 
“Did he?” your mother asked smoothly. “Anything other than that kiss?”
“I-I didn’t ask for him to,” you said quickly. “He just… Did. And he apologized for it.” 
“Are you still going to dinner with him?” your mother asked, and you nodded quickly. “Be careful. Father James might be a holy man, but he’s still just a man. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 
“I won’t get hurt,” you said. “Not so long as I have him by my side.”
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badaziraphaletakes · 12 days
Text
In which some poor innocent unsuspecting reader submitted an ask and I respond by throwing an entire textbook at them
Like seriously i won’t even be upset if no one reads this PhD dissertation, like actually what is wrong with me omg
The ask:
I want to start by saying I love this account and really appreciate the rebuttals I see here to some of the messed up stuff the fandom’s spit out over the past few years. That being said, the most recent post about “the creepiest take you’ve ever seen,” was one I disagreed with strongly. It’s entirely normal to enjoy watching media where characters have breakdowns. It is not a desire to see a person breakdown. It is a desire to watch a good story.
(Edit: Just realized I somehow omitted to include the full text of the ask here. I apologize for the error! Will fix it soon. -Mod X)
My response:
Hi and thank you for your kind words! (Also idk why there is this huge gap in the text here, sorry haha!) If it were a necessary part of the story, or a part of the story that made sense, I would agree. But it’s not necessary (esp not at this point in the story) and therefore wouldn’t be “good”, if we are defining good art as being emotional truthful, which I imagine is a pretty uncontroversial definition.
Side note: We already saw him have this exact shattering breakdown in Uz. So that renders most of what I am about to say (and arguably some of what you have said) somewhat moot. But I’m going to continue anyway because some of the points brought up here touch on issues that I think bear re-visiting often.
It’s cathartic, it’s engaging, and it helps people who’ve been through the same thing see themselves reflected. For example, I like watching someone on tv hit rock bottom with their addiction because I’ve been through that, and seeing them finally realize they have to work on recovery and actually do it is motivating and empowering.
I’m so sorry you’ve been through that. I haven’t (although I am estranged from an entire side of my family due to alcoholism and meth addiction, which is a whole fun thing), so I can’t comment on this too much.
But addiction is not the same as an ab*sive relationship. (I do have knowledge of those, both from life experience and from my previous job in ab*se research. I edited a newsletter about family violence research for several years.) Seeing a person suffering from addiction realize they want to work on recovery, and realize that the substance they are addicted to is messing up their life, can make sense. Especially if they're in a place where they're able to work on it and have the opportunity to try to change.
But seeing an ab*se survivor “realize they need to get away from their ab*ser because they’re evil and have a breakdown about it” doesn’t make sense, because being trapped in an absive situation is not about “motivation” or what they think about the abser or even, really, about "empowerment". (Side note that word is thrown a lot to delude women into thinking our capitalist system is working for us rather than oppressing us. But I digress.) It boils down to the fact that they are in danger if they leave. The situation is not within their control.
(This next part is not directed at you, but at the general readership, in case this is helpful discussion for anyone: A lot of addictions aren’t within people's control at all either. It depends very much on the drug we’re talking about, the health of the individual, the quantity and duration of the addiction, whether the person has access to the healthcare they need to be cured, and whether there’s a way for them to get free from the broader societal dysfunctions that led to them being trapped in this situation in the first place.)
Also, with addiction, people can absolutely get past that without losing their sense of self and their identity. If they go through that kind of crisis in the process of healing from addiction, I would argue that something is very wrong. (Not with them, but with the society around them). In a best-case scenario, a person suffering from addiction would have access to the kind of mental and physical healthcare and support system that lets you get free from that without a shattering breakdown or loss of sense of self.
Besides, not everyone who has an addiction has toxic beliefs about themselves or their own identity or other people, etc etc. (Babies who are born addicted come to mind, if we want to talk about the most extreme example.) So I find the idea that addiction is down to toxic beliefs about one's self very suspect. I would argue that 95% of the time, addiction happens because your life sucks. The mental health community is starting to have this conversation about depression and anxiety - Cognitive Behavioral Therapy to work on one's "limiting beliefs" and "destructive thought patterns" can only do so much to help you feel better when your whole life is shit anyway. And it can actually make it WORSE if the victim is made to believe that their depression is the fault of their "Faulty thoughts" rather than a reasonable reaction to a shitty situation. Not necessarily saying we should throw CBT out the window altogether, but I am saying that mental healthcare will be a LOT more effective when it learns to truly take the broader societal context into account. I suspect, I hope, we'll soon be having a simialr conversation around addiction.)
And that’s doubly the case for ab*se survivors. They’re not stuck in that situation because there’s something wrong with them that they need to fix. They’re stuck in that situation because there’s something wrong with the ab*ser.
Regardless of the victim’s personal worth as an individual, regardless of whether they’re a good person or what-have-you, they don’t deserve to be ab*sed.
(I'm just waiting to hear about how some therapist tells a victim to work on their "limiting belief" that they need to stay with their ab*ser in order not to be killed, and/or tells them that fearing their ab*ser will kill them is a "cognitive distortion", and tells them to stand up to their ab*ser and/or leave, and then the ab*ser kills them. But I digress.)
And the loss of self when separating from a toxic system that’s defined your whole life is a real thing some people go through. It’s not bad consider that Aziraphale could also go through that, or to want to see that experience reflected.
I want to be very clear that I don’t have the smallest objection to people wanting to see that in a show. But a. that’s not what the person was saying, and b. they were also saying it’s necessary. IT’S NOT. I can’t emphasize this enough.
Loss of self is the worst-case scenario for how something like that goes. Nothing good comes from that. That is a side effect of ab*se (because the ab*ser’s the one who says that “Everything you are is bound up in me and you’re nothing with me"), not an integral part of the process of getting away.
Trauma is not necessary for character growth.
The way these things should go is that the person is able to gradually and mindfully work through the beliefs that are poisoning them with the help of a therapist, trusted friends, etc.
I know what I’m talking about. I worked in trauma research for over seven years. Please trust me on this one.
And again, Aziraphale can’t “separate” from them anyway. There’s nowhere he can go where they won’t find him. So his beliefs are irrelevant to his situation. And if the show implies that his beliefs “need to change” as part of the earth being set free from heaven-hell’s tyranny, or that he “needs to change” in order to be free, I will be writing a strongly-worded letter to the creators.
But more importantly, *they didn’t just say giddy.* They also said apprehensive. Perhaps they’re apprehensive because they know it could be painful to watch. Or because they don’t want to see it handled poorly.
“Giddily apprehensive” sounds an awful lot like “excited” to me. I admit it is ambiguous, though, so I’ll give you that one. I maintain that the OP expressed themselves with an exceptional lack of grace, however. And fwiw, they’d be FAR from the first person to want to see Aziraphale suffer because they are mad at him. I think I have good reason to believe that's what they're getting at here, given how many people in the poster's orbit say the same kinds of things and how many other things I've seen the OP say that are along those lines. I acknowledge I should have made that clearer in my original post.
They aren’t giving this advice (if one could call it that) to a human. They’re saying they’re excited to see a character breakdown. Character arcs like that are common and enticing for good reason.
I have yet to see a reason why I should believe that the things people say about Aziraphale are different than the things they say about people in real life.
I would point you to a couple lines down where you say yourself that we respond to characters the same way we respond to real people.
Personal growth ≠ character growth.
But what makes a good character is that they act like real people.
As an audience, character growth (even negative) is engaging.
Yes, absolutely. But we can absolutely do character growth in a way that does not spread harmful mindsets or misinformation about what ab*se and recovery from ab*se looks like. In fact, I would argue that character growth can’t happen if the writer doesn’t write the characters to behave in a way that is realistic to real life.
Characters follow the same rules, though. We respond to characters the same way we respond to real people. The same general rules of personal development and so forth apply.
The idea that “Aziraphale realizes his ab*sers are terrible” is something he needs to do for his “personal development” is highly objectionable. He doesn’t need to grow in this area. He just needs his ab*sers to leave him alone. Side note: We should give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he already does think they’re terrible and only stays with them because he is terrified. Even if this hadn’t been strongly and frequently hinted at in every episode going all the way back to S1E1 - almost every scene, in fact - we should still give him the benefit of the doubt.
Also, even if we say, for the sake of argument, that Aziraphale was a terrible, awful, horrible person - I know you’re not saying that, to be clear - even then, he still wouldn’t “need to realize his ab*sers are terrible” or “have a complete breakdown” or “lose himself” in order to grow. That's not how growth works. The best growth happens when people are at peace and safe and loved. Not frightened and confused and alone. He never chose them in the first place, he never wanted to be on their side. If he were left alone, he would just spend the rest of eternity reading his books and eating Eccles cakes and snuggling with his former-demon. That’s who he really is. There’s nothing about him as a person that needs to change. I agree a story where a person loses their sense of self after escaping from an ab*sive system would be interesting to watch, but I maintain that it does not make sense for the context of this particular story. And, such a story would NEED to make clear that the person wasn’t bad or wrong for deriving some part of their sense of self from the ab*ser and that they shouldn’t have had to have a catastrophic breakdown in order to develop their own sense of self. No one should have to go through that.
It’s not the same thing as asking for personal growth from a real human being.
Good characters do not operate according to different emotional and psychological rules than we do, though. If they didn't, we wouldn’t have millions of people sobbing about how real Aziraphale and Crowley feel to them. We would be the biggest dodos in the world if we were reacting this way to paper dolls 😄
Comparing the desire to see a character go through a dramatic storyline like that (and to come out of it strong and shining) to fundamentalist rhetoric is… just total bullshit.
You said this blog has been a good place for you and I want it to continue to be that way for you. So I want to give you a chance to revisit this part and see if you can say something more constructive. Because I've gotta admit, this really made me upset and I can't let it go without saying something. It’s not cool to call someone’s commentary “bullsh*t” like this.
I heard the line “we must die to ourselves” many, many times from the high-control religion of my childhood. It is a classic cult line. Hence why so many cults have "burial and rebirth" rituals, make people change their names, etc.
I am not just making up a comparison. This is a real phenomenon. Controlling ab*sers are the ones who’ve given us this idea that “death of the self” is character growth. It’s not. Character growth happens in spite of those excruciating emotional crises, not because of them.
Growing as a person is supposed to feel good overall. Not always easy, but on the whole, it should be a positive experience.
Also - Again, they said he “needs” to do it.
And they didn’t say anything about Aziraphale “coming out strong and shining”. You added that in. I think it's wonderful that you want to see that for him (so do I) but that’s not what this person was saying
If they'd said that, I wouldn't object to it at all. But they didn't. That part was left out. Which I think may be very telling in itself.
There are a myriad of reasons someone could have that desire, including having gone through something similar themselves.
Having gone through something similar doesn’t necessarily mean it makes sense for another character. It also doesn’t mean it’s necessary. And having been through something that went a certain way does NOT mean that it happening that way makes sense for someone else.
Deconstruction from a religious upbringing is different from leaving an ab*sive relationship
Aziraphale doesn’t have religious trauma. (I’m not going to talk much about religious trauma and deconstruction here, because it’s outside the scope of this blog, largely because - as attested by no less an authority than Neil Himself - Good Omens is not about religion. But I’ll say a little bit.)
Heaven and hell are not a “religion” in his world - they’re real. His fear of hell (and of heaven) is absolutely, one hundred percent, completely legitimate and appropriate, and NOT something he should be “reasoned” out of. Saying otherwise gives “your ab*ser isn’t actually that evil and scary”. But regardless, in either scenario, that kind of traumatic personal crisis is not a necessary part of the healing process. My heart aches for all the people whose deconstruction process was emotionally shattering. But what makes it ache even more is how for so many of them, the takeaway is somehow that that kind of crisis is necessary - rather than "dear god, i hope no one else ever has to go through that kind of hideous experience to get away from their shitty religion", which surely is what the takeaway should be (assuming there even is a lesson to be learned at all from an experience like that, which is doubtful) - and they go on to demand it of other survivors and gatekeep against people who haven't gone through the exact same thing they did in the process of getting away.
How, HOW did we get to a point where so many people’s deconstruction is a fucked-up, scarring experience that we think it’s inevitable for deconstruction to be that way????? I grieve.
I know the idea of killing one’s old self is inherently wrong to many people.
It’s not about whether it’s *wrong*. If that's valid for someone and they get where they need to be - you do you. It’s about the fact that it’s painful and it’s unnecessary to the process of growth.
Furthermore, it is the kind of thing ab*sers WANT to see happen to their victims when they leave. They want victims to think that they have to have that kind of crisis if they want to leave them. Because then they’re less likely to leave. When we encourage that kind of thinking, we are playing directly into their hands.
What should happen is that the victim should be given the opportunity to realize that all along there was much more to them than their ab*ser.
I don’t personally desire to watch Aziraphale do that, especially because there are so many wonderful aspects of the Angel he’s been since the beginning
Agreed.
But fwiw, this is giving a faint whiff of perfect victim syndrome. Even if he were an asshole, he still deserves to just have his ab*sers leave him alone, not to have some kind of shattering, soul-crushing emotional breakdown. They will always, always be worse than him.
but it’s not wrong to want to see that. People do go through it, and their stories are incredibly compelling.
I don’t disagree. For me it’s rather about the place this is coming from. OP was saying it’s necessary. There’s a difference between wanting to see a show address this issue overall because it’s interesting, and demanding that a specific character go through it because you think it’s necessary, or that their process of leaving and healing won't be legitimate (or whatever word we wanna use) if it doesn't happen.
And, as you said, it doesn’t make sense for Aziraphale. If the character is an asshole, I’d be able to see it a little more (although again, I still very much question the entire idea in the first place) But he's not an asshole. I find anyone’s thinking it “makes sense” for him to be highly questionable.
I know Aziraphale is much more than a character to many people
Speaking as a (very, very, very slightly, lol) professional writer and actor - every character should be “more than a character”, if they’re well-written. They should feel real if the writer and/or actor has done their job well. I like NG's line that "If you write someone who is utterly and completely themselves, you get people coming up to you and going 'Oh my God, you wrote my life!'
a desire to watch him go through a psychological breakdown is not some poorly concealed desire to watch real people go through that.
It may or may not be. I agree that it isn't always.
In this person’s case, though, I very much did get concerning vibes. Poorly concealed. (As an ab*se survivor, you start to know the vibe of victim-blamers after awhile.)
Regardless, though, the way we respond to characters is the way we respond to people in real life. Story is a primary vehicle through which people learn how to interact with one another and their environment. If it wasn’t, discussing media along these lines would be pointless, and I'd just spend all my time talking about how good David Tennant looks in those tight pants 😁 Or, probably, I would take up a different hobby altogether.
I wouldn’t have wasted my time starting this blog if the things people say about this story and especially about Aziraphale didn’t have real-world applications (not to mention making a lot of ab*se survivors feel very unsafe in the fandom - before we turned off anonymous asks, I got an average of two messages a day from ab*se survivors and other oppressed people telling them how this blog has made them feel so much safer in the fandom) - and if their views about the characters didn’t mirror the kinds of things they’d say about people in real life. (All the anti-Aziraphale autiphobic takes come to mind.) I flatter myself I have enough judgment that those takes wouldn't have troubled me so deeply if they weren't reflective of real-world societal problems and indicative of problematic attitudes in the people who write them.
In this case, the wording is identical to the kinds of problematic things people say about real-life victims/survivors. Yes, the person may not actually consciously want (or want at all) to see real-life ab*se victims/survivors suffer. But I absolutely, one hundred per cent guarantee you that anyone saying this has some major problematic biases/assumptions that are contributing to how ab*se survivors are maligned, degraded, and oppressed in our society. (I never want to see Disabled people suffer, but if I say ableist things, I’m contributing to it whether I mean to or not. I may not want to see women suffer, I am a woman, well more or less anyway lol, and I've identified as a feminist my entire adult life, but nevertheless there have certainly been times in the past when I've said sexist things. It's something all of us will always have to be vigilant against in ourselves. I suspect at this point I'm preaching to the choir, because you do not strike me at all as a bigoted or ignorant person, but I figured I'd re-iterate all that again anyway, because screaming it through a megaphone as often as possible is what this blog is for lol. :)
And what’s worse, they are spreading that rhetoric. I’ll be damned if I’ll let it go by without saying something.
Hope this makes sense and cleared some things up.
With love and respect,
Mod X.
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evansbby · 29 days
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YESSS!! the whole immaturity thing is so trueee. i dated this 38 year old when i was like 18/19, and in every argument he had to bring up the fact that i’m younger than him. i remember once this woman was flirting with him and i got angry and he said that she was an old friend and that ‘I don’t understand because i’m too young’ like what??😭 then why are you with me if i’m too young wtf. and there r so many instances where i just didn’t know if it his behaviour was normal but then he’d say that i’m inexperienced and should just trust him and what not. (he wanted me to move in with him 5 months into dating so he’d have “easier access” to me😭😭). PLUS HE HAD 3 KIDS LIKE WTH AM I GONNA DO TAKE CARE OF THEM??? he definitely clung onto the fact i have daddy issues bc he would use that against me so many times 💀💀
i met him when i worked as a barista, i was freshly 18 as well. like seriously there were so many red flags i ignored, idk why😭 he was love bombing the fuck out of me, and then when we’d have a argument he’d use that against me and say “i did all of this for you and this how you repay me, thank you so much” THIS MANIPULATION AT ITS FINESTTT. and i would feel so bad as well 💀
so…dilfs are better left as a fantasy 👎🏼👎🏼
😭😭😭😭
I feel lowkey bad for all the teenage girls out there who went through the canon event of dating a 40 year old manchild. Like that man should’ve known better bc why is he dating someone THAT much younger than him? Other than to manipulate her bc she is more naive than the women his age who know better.
And I agree with you, the dilf fantasy is just a fantasy. Most of the time. Bc look, I grew up reading dilf fanfics from like the age of 12/13. I was reading huge age gap fics and I was like “omg yes, I need an older man! They are more mature and better etc” then I grew up and realised there’s a reason I was/am so attracted to dilfs from the fanfics — bc they were WRITTEN BY WOMEN. They are a woman’s fantasy that oftentimes is NOT a reality. In reality, the dilfs I met were always lowkey creepy bc like… why are you interested in a teenager bro!!!??? I could be your daughter!
I realised that just bc they’re older, doesn’t mean they aren’t immature. This isn’t always the case but most of the time it is. Now despite all this, if I met a dilf who acted exactly like he was written by a woman writing a fanfic, someone like SUGAR DADDY ARI LEVINSON, then yes I would marry him in a heartbeat idec he could be 50 lol.
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justagalwhowrites · 11 months
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Prompt 91 babyyyyy
OMG Hi Bestie
Thank you so much for sending in this suggestion! I LOVED this prompt and @1soff also shared it.
This is starring Joel and a new FMC who you'll likely be meeting soon (probably this fall?) who Joel calls Goldie. This is going to be a no-outbreak modern AU Joel romantic dramady fic. They were best friends in high school but had a falling out at the end of their senior year and went their separate ways until Goldie moves back to Austin when they're in their early 30s. This scene isn't going to be canon for their story BUT you'll at least get a taste for Joel and Goldie!
Thank you for being here! I hope you like Joel and Goldie! Love you so much!
Pick Me
You and your high school best friend, Joel Miller, reconnect after years apart.
Based on Prompt 91: “Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (nicknamed Goldie)
Warnings: None :) No use of Y/N.
Length: 1.8K
“You’re not going to make me like this damn town,” you said, taking a drink off the flask and passing it back to Joel. Your legs were dangling over the rock toward the river below, the stars bright overhead. “Doesn’t matter how many times we try to act like teenagers breaking into the state park, it’s not going to work.” 
“I’ll wear ya down,” he said, taking a drink himself. “If you’re stuck here, may as well try to enjoy it.” 
You sighed, looking out at the Austin skyline as Joel handed the flask back to you. You took another drink. 
This stupid fucking city held what seemed like everything bad that had ever happened to you. Your father, how your mother died, Anna’s descent into addiction that you knew was at least partially your fault. 
But it also had Joel. 
The one, incredibly determined bright spot that had been here even as you tried as hard as you could to run from it. Liking Austin was dangerous. Liking JOEL was dangerous.
“How’s the school treatin’ ya?” He asked after a minute. 
“Pretty good, actually,” you nodded. “Better than Ohio did when I started there.” 
“Fuckin’ Ohio,” Joel said, glancing at you with a sly smile on his lips. You snorted. He held out his hand. “You’re bogarting the booze, Goldie.” 
“What, you think it’s yours or something?” You teased, handing the flask back. 
“Unless your last name is suddenly Miller,” he teased back, tapping the engraved side of it. He took a swig. “But they got you teachin’… fuck, whatever the interesting shit is English professors get to teach?” 
You laughed a little. 
“Yeah,” you said. “I have 18th century British Literature which is a good one for me, anyway. Literature for writers is another one I’m liking so far. Plus some workshops. It’s mostly upperclassmen so they’re all kids who are there because they care about the subject, not just to fulfill some requirements to graduate.
“I think the school is sucking up to me a bit, though,” you said. “I picked a good time to have my life completely implode and need to job hunt. I had some good name recognition from my book. They want to try to keep me around so they’re letting me teach the cool shit instead of needing to work my way up.” 
He nodded slowly and handed you the flask back. You ran your thumb over the engraving, watching his name catch the light of the moon. You took another drink. 
“You’re still too smart to be hangin’ out with me,” he smiled a little. “Not arguin’, just pointin’ out some truths for you.” 
“You’re still too cool to be hanging out with me,” you smiled back. “Think we’re even.” 
“I was never that cool,” he replied. 
“Oh I know,” you laughed. “I was just a huge fucking loser.” 
He laughed at that. You handed him the flask. 
Joel was sitting close to you, so close that your leg sometimes brushed his when it swung out over the water below. His hand brushed yours as he leaned back on the rock, his fingertips slipping into the gaps between your own. You took your hand back and lay down on the stone, looking up at the sky overhead. 
The whiskey had set in, a pleasant buzz running over you as you watched the lights from distant planes flying overhead. You wondered idly where they were going, if the people aboard were excited for vacation or traveling for business or on their way to a funeral. You always wanted to know things like that. It was your curse, that’s what your mother had called it. That you had all these questions about how the people around you moved through the world, like you wanted to crawl inside their skin and live as them for a day, just to see what it was like to occupy the same space as another person, have their heartbeat, feel the creases in their flesh as it existed to them. 
“You ever wonder what would have happened if you’d stayed here after high school?” Joel asked. You looked over at him. He took another drink. “Gone to UT and shit instead of runnin’ off to Columbia?” 
“All the time,” you replied. “But I think about a lot of different versions of myself. In some alternate universe there’s a me who went to Iowa for undergrad and never met fucking Brad…” 
“Fuckin’ Brad,” Joel echoed. You looked up at him and caught a glimpse of his smile. 
“There’s another one who moved to London and never went to college,” you said. “She’s just waiting tables and writing shitty poems in an apartment she shares with three other people. But she’s pretty happy there, so good on her I guess.” 
Joel paused before looking down at you. 
“The version who stayed?” He asked. 
You sighed. 
“I’m really not sure,” you said. “I’m sure we would have stayed friends the whole time instead of falling out of touch…” 
“We weren’t talkin’ when you left,” he said. 
“I know,” you sighed. “But I think we’d have moved past that pretty quick if we were in the same damn city.” 
“Makes sense,” he agreed after a moment. 
“I’m not sure about her beyond that, though,” you said after a moment of quiet.
He was quiet but lay down next to you on the rock, looking up at the stars. His body was warm, even from a few inches away. 
“Missed you, you know,” he said, turning his head to look at you. 
“Missed you, too,” you said, smiling a little back at him before looking back at the stars again. “You know, more than I think about staying here, I wonder what would have happened if we’d never… you know. If we’d just stayed friends.” 
“Yeah?” He said. His eyes were still on you, you could feel him watching you. “What do you think would’ve happened?” 
“I wouldn’t have married fuckin’ Brad,” you laughed. “You’d have seen right through his shit and talked me out of that one real quick.” 
He snorted. 
“I only met the guy once but he was a fuckin’ dick,” he said. 
“See?” You smiled. “I needed someone to point that out to me, I couldn’t see him for what he was. I needed someone who could.” 
“I probably wouldn’t have Sarah,” you heard him frown then. “Shit, that’s weird to think about… I doubt I’d have gone to the bar and hooked up with her mom that night if we’d still been friends.” 
“That whole ripple effect thing,” you sighed. “Change one thing and the whole world shifts. But assuming you would still have Sarah - that girl is inevitable, you cannot deny her. She’d will herself into existence if you weren’t there to help her along - what would be different for you?” 
He laughed a little and then sighed. 
“Might have actually done the community college thing,” he shrugged. “You would have been on my ass about it until I fuckin’ enrolled…” 
“Damn right I would’ve,” you replied. 
“I’d probably have just flunked out though,” he said. “Then I’d have a bunch of loans and nothin’ to show for it.” 
“Damn,” you sighed but smiled slightly, turning your head to look at him. “Who knew I’d be such a bad influence on you.” 
“Nah,” he smiled. “My mom’s never wrong about that shit and she liked you. It’d be good.” 
“Oh, well, if I had Mrs. Miller’s blessing…” you teased. 
You just lay there, looking at each other for a bit, the rock cool below you, the river drowning out the sounds of the city that lay just out of reach on the horizon. There was a knot in your stomach when you looked at Joel for too long, something that seemed to want to dig into you, something that had lingered whenever he came to mind for years. 
“Oh hey,” you said, desperate to have something else to talk about. “How did your date go the other night? The one girl you were doubling with Tommy and Maria with?” 
“Oh,” Joel paused for a moment. “It was fine, I guess, but we didn’t really… I dunno, click or whatever the fuck you wanna call it. We’re not goin’ out again.” 
“She was that bad in bed, eh?” You teased. Even in the dark you caught his frown. 
“Wouldn’t know,” he said. “Didn’t fuck her.” 
“Really?” You frowned a bit, surprised. “Well, good for you.” 
“Feel like you’re implyin’ somethin’ about my dating history, Goldie,” he smiled a little. 
“Just that you’re good at charming the pants off your dates,” you smiled back. “Which I’d think most men would take as a compliment.” 
“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, going quiet again. 
He was so close to you, so close it felt dangerous.
“Still talkin’ to that one guy?” Joel asked. “What’s his name?” 
“Eric?” You asked. “The guy whose texts I showed you to see if you thought he was a whack job?” 
“That’s the one,” Joel laughed a little. 
“Yeah, actually,” you smiled a bit. “We’re going out this weekend, some concert he wants to see. Who cares as long as it gets me out of my damn apartment…” 
“Don’t go on that date,” Joel cut you off. 
“Why?” You breathed, your heart pounding against your ribs. The sad, homesick longing you’d had for him for what felt like your entire life was sharp and hot inside your stomach. 
“You know why.” 
“Say it.”
“I love you, Goldie,” he said, looking at you so intently that you could feel it in your blood. “I’ve loved you since were fuckin’ 16 years old and…” 
“Don’t do this to me, Joel,” your voice broke as you said it. “Don’t treat me like one of the girls you date where you say whatever it is you say to them to get them into bed…” 
“You think that’s what this is?” He rolled onto his side so he was looking down at you, his body just inches from your own. “That any of that shit wasn’t to make up for not havin’ you when you left?” 
“That’s not…” you began but he cut you off. 
“You’re it for me,” he said. “Knew it when we were 16 years old, knew it on prom night, knew it the day you left town. 
“Don’t go out with that fuckin’ guy. He seems… fine. He does, Goldie. He seems better than fuckin’ Brad but Jesus, you deserve so much better than fine. Let me try to be somethin’ close to what you deserve. Don’t go on that date.” 
“Joel,” you breathed. 
“Don’t go on that date.”
“I won’t,” you said softly. “I’ll…” 
And, for the first time in 14 years, your best friend kissed you, his hand slipping around to the back of your head, pulling your face closer to his own as his lips met yours all soft and sweet. It left you breathless when he pulled away. 
“Good,” he said. “That’s… good."
"Yeah," you said. "I think it is."
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Text
✧ About me (and him) ✧
This is a side blog, main is @vampiresluvr
Hi! I'm Cassie, and I'm 19.
I'll refer to him as S ♡
We've known each other for about a year, and I was convinced he hated me at first. As a result of his behavior towards me, I disliked him as well. Somehow we started talking more, and I realized I was falling for him the better we got to know each other.
About me:
Psych major
I love music, writing, and reading
I'm pretty shy
If you have a tc and want to be friends, message me! :)
Obviously delulu, I officially have a tc blog
About S:
Business professor
23 year age gap
He's extremely intelligent
Huge nerd, like omg
Such a sweetheart!! He's always asking me questions about my life and what I'm interested in, and he's just the best dad to his kids
He has a really great sense of humor, and he always makes me laugh
He's married and I respect both him and his family. So no matter what I say on here, there is no way I will ever make a move
To all the grown ass men in my dms: just because I like older men doesn’t mean I like the creepy ones who try to seduce me on tumblr
DISCLAIMER:
I DO NOT SUPPORT P**DOPHELIA OR MINORS GETTING TOGETHER WITH THEIR TEACHERS/BOSSES/MENTORS/COACHES/ETC
If you are a minor and an adult is flirting with you, making advances at you, or more, please tell someone you can trust. It doesn't matter if you're romantically interested in them or not, AN ADULT SHOULD NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, BE PURSUING YOU.
Even if you're of legal age, getting together with someone significantly older than you may not be the best idea. Getting together with your teacher, boss, etc. could end poorly, so wait until they are no longer your superior if you must go after them. Also- It's possible that they won't have your best interest at heart, and it could end up being an unsafe environment for you. Please be careful.
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error4343 · 11 months
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After all those years of not having references, it's finally here... Let me present to you:
Fanon Skyvik timeline + bunch of my personal headcanons for their relationships!
To see actual timeline - click on image.
Before diving deeper: This timeline isn’t very well thought out and mostly based on headcanons, so there can and likely is huge divergence from the canonical timeline!
Pre-teen years
Viktor’s parents preferred him to play on the highest levels of Zaun so he wouldn't breathe Antresole's toxins. That's how he met Sky.
Nothing special happened in this period of time. Just two kids messing around, dreaming of becoming the greatest scientists of all Runeterra. 
Their senior-assistant dynamic was firstly established, but not quite reinforced.
From early years Sky became protective over her friend. Viktor was (and reminds) not very happy about it, but in the harshness of Undercity protection was necessary.
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Early puberty
Oh boy here we go, first romantic shenanigans. 
It was time when Sky understood that she likes her friend not only as friend. It wasn't a serious romantic interest, more like “Omg he’s so cute”.
BUT BACK THERE IT WASN’T ONE SIDED!
Anyway, because of Sky’s shyness and Viktor’s fear to ruin their friendship, they never confessed their feelings to each other. 
It was time when they both slowly, but steadily came to realize they’re not only into the opposite gender.
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Teens
The most bitter-sweet moment in the timeline. 
On one hand, those years were a peak for their friendship: both kinda lost their romantic interest, kept being supportive pals to each other and started to try to date someone.
Viktor even came up with the idea to set up their workshop so they can start to make money. So they did and it was a success.
On other hand: shit started to go down between Zaun and Piltover and also with their parents' health. 
Even though they never wanted to leave their hometown, Viktor started to think if he could be more useful if somehow he gets into Academia, but for the time it was impossible due to ban of zaunits (it’s a pure hc).
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Bridge rebellion & Aftermath 
Suppression of Bridge’s rebellion was so horrifying, that the Council decided to lift zaunit’s ban in order to soften the edges. At the same time, due to the failure of the rebellion, inner conflicts started (hc: which led to a split between Silco and Vander). 
But not only this: Viktor’s parents died due to smoke poisoning and Sky mother’s health began to worsen drastically. 
Under the influence of despair from the failure of the uprising, the death of his parents and, in principle, the hopeless situation in Zaun, Vitya dares to leave the city and take advantage of the opportunity to enter the Academy.
During all of that stuff, both try to hold together their friendship and support each other, but despair ends up winning over Viktor.
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Some time apart
Both are going through some shit: Sky - though struggles with life, Viktor - though nationalist intolerance and general struggles with adapting to Piltover.
Sky’s mom didn’t make it. 
After 1-2 hard work in the Academy, Viktor proved himself as worthy for the dean assistant position, and, thanks to that, was able to help Sky get to the Academy too. 
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Act I
Even after reunion, relationships between those two never would be the same as it was in Zaun. But it would be more apparent in Act II.
At the same time, Sky’s romantic interest reincarnates, but this time it’s more mature and serious.
It was a time when Sky met Jayce! 
Funny thingy: due to gap in age and education, Viktor became thesis supervisor of Sky (I’m sure it’s not one of the reasons why they never got so close again).
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Act II
Вon't have headcanons for this part of their lives for obvious reasons, but keep the homemade reference anyway!
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reallifemarvbruh · 1 month
Text
NEW INTRO !!
hello and welcome.
this is my official new intro because the other one was waayy outdated.
people call me by a couple different things, those things being Zebruh, Travis, and Gamzee.
my pronouns are he/they and im a t4t trans dude.
THIS ACCOUNT IS AGELESS
if you have a problem with that then please see your way out. i post mainly dead dove content and nsfw concepts.
if youve made it this far then we can get into the good shit.
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i am a fanfic writer and role player, specifically into dead dove and angsty porn although i do like fluff and normal shit.
i have been writing and role playing since i can remember and am pretty good at it.
im always open to role play or make new friends.
toxic yaoi<3
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FANDOM
i am always online and am into fandom related spaces.
i enjoy
homestuck
hiveswap
sally face
warrior cats
boyfriend to death
your boyfriend
aqua teen hunger force
smiling friends
maxley
popee the performer
and many more.
this account is mostly homestuck and hiveswap with some other stuff mixed in.
i have been into fandoms ever since i can remember and it is literally what my life revolves around i love fandoms so much omg…
they give me life and help me through everything
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I AM A ZEBRUH APOLOGIST
i love zebruh more then anything he totally didnt do anything wrong at all he deserves all the love and respect in the world no matter what. for sure.
i am a HUGE marvbruh shipper if you couldnt tell already, i will defend them until the day that i die.
if you dont like that then why are you here?
they are literally my babies and they are in love i dont want to hear a WORD about it.
marvus hypes up his loser boyfriend alright deal with it.
i am on a sinking ship and i am the captain.
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WHAT ABOUT >>ME<<?
i am a freak beyond understanding. i am something otherworldly.
im a scenemo kid, i have black hair with side bangs and purple/blue raccoon tails.
i love music of all different kinds, mostly music thats about darker topics such as stalking, suicide, necro, cannibalism, age gaps, etc.
im also a rollercoaster enthusiast.
i have two cats that probably hate me but pretend to love me.
i have an awesome group of friends and THE BEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WORLD.
pray for him he puts up with my shit.
his blog is @dirtymaidpanties go give him love.
we’ve been together for four years and hes probably so tired of me posting and promoting him LOL i dont blame him im crazy.
i have a discord but youll have to beg on your hands and knees for it.
im a huge history and music nerd. i can talk about it for hours.
i have a myriad of mental health disorders.
i am hypersexual and have a porn addiction.
i love all fucked up characters.
bro, gamzee, cronus, it doesnt matter i love them all equally.
im also a furry.
and i cosplay.
!!!I HAVE NO DNI!!!
you can interact if youre anti, proship, or whatever else. our lives are too short to judge solely based off of one thing alone. if i dont like you ill just block you its that easy. plus dnis are dumb.
if you wanna yell at me for that i dont really care.
you guys are so judgmental its fucking crazy holy shit.
if you wanna make fun of me and be a bitch i wont block you though. that shit makes me horny i have a kink for that.
anyways bye kitties remember to support your local marvbruh fan.
pictures ehehee
i am literally zebruh guys i can confirm that marvus loves me very very very much hes my boyfriend
(he just doesnt know it yet)
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hello-nichya-here · 7 months
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Girl.... Imma need all the tea abt Michael's brothers being leaches.
I do remember that one of them said that there wouldn't be no Michael Jackson without Jackson 5. BFFR. omg.
Just look at Spotify monthly listeners. I tend to compare artists who debuted at the same time and if they are still alive or not.
Marlon Jackson: 945
Jackie Jackson: 1'180
Tito Jackson: 15'148
Jermaine Jackson: 771'648
The Jacksons: 2'862'021
The Jackson 5: 8'607'046
Michael Jackson: 43'067'506
I know Spotify listeners aren't everything in terms of success or talent. Just look how Selena Gomez supposedly has more than Beyonce. But here I mean the gap is huge.
And the fact they NEEDED him for the Victory Tour otherwise no one would have showed up.
...Anon, I'm gonna be honest here, I completely forgot Jermaine wasn't the only of MJ's brothers to try and have his own solo career. And it says a lot that even though he was the most sucessful of MJ's brothers, he was nowhere near as relevant as he wanted to be - let alone as relevant as Michael.
Also, I know that showbusiness is cruel, especially to child stars, and the music industry is super unfair and buries really talented artists while promoting others that are not even good - but lets not kid ourselves here.
Like you said, the very fact that they had to drag him into that tour to make it relevant already says a lot - but there's even more to that. Michael decided, on his own, that this was going to be the LAST tour, and announced it at the last concert, without discussing it with anyone. He didn't just quit, he essentially ended the group.
They tried to carry on without him a few years later, and it went nowhere because nobody cared about them if Michael wasn't there. Meanwhile, he had random dancers/back-up singers stand in for his brothers whenever he'd ocasionally perform "his" old songs, and nobody except their mom ever complained. I strongly suspect some people didn't even notice - first time I watched some of the performances of the Bad Era, I sure didn't.
They had a reunion in 2001 - in some concerts to celebrate MICHAEL's career, with a moment dedicated to some Jackson 5/the Jackson's hits. They tried for a reunion and their own TV show in 2009 - the same time Michael's final tour was supposed to happen. When Michael died, all the interest in the projects of his brother's died too, with their proper reunion only happening a few years later... in a tribute to Michael.
But by far the biggest evidence that Michael didn't need them was Motown 25. He performed with his brothers, and even though he was obviously the star, they were still great, truly fucking awesome, you can clearly tell they are all giving it all their talent and energy.
Then he performed Billie Jean and did the moonwalk without a breaking a sweat and it was like his brothers never existed. Their big moment was Michael's warm up, and his big moment had him on stage by himself, singing the biggest hit of his SOLO career, overshadowing everything that came before it.
The only one of his siblings that ever managed to not be in his shadow was Janet. And even then, despite being HUGE, she was not KING OF POP huge. Probably because literally nobody else, before or since, could do what Michael did.
For fuck's sake, look at "We Are The World." Pretty much every famous singer of the decade was there, every single one of them giving it their all - and Michael is still clearly the star, because he wasn't just better than his siblings, he was better than everybody.
And I think that's the reason why his brothers never fully let go of all their envy. Pretty much everyone in that family exploited Michael for his money/relevance, but since his brothers were once his bandmates, they felt full on entitled towards not just Michael's money, but his career in general - because their time as a band was the most sucess they were ever gonna achieve, but it was quickly becoming just "Michael Jackson's early years, when he was not as famous as he is right now, but was already way more famous than his brothers will ever be." They were dependent on him, and were now being told "No, he won't let you all tag along forever."
Hence them demanding to be part of "Off The Wall" and getting mad when Michael didn't let them, making him tour with them singing the band's biggest hits instead of doing a tour for Thriller, fucking raiding his house for valluable stuff, using his money to buy mansions for themselves and raise their kids/pay child support, claiming that if things had been just slightly different their own solo careers totally could have been just as big as Michael's, etc.
It wasn't just that their sibling slowly became way better than them and eventually didn't need them to be sucessful. Michael NEVER needed them. He was always the star, the one people were more interested in, the one with the most talent, and eventually he realized that, if he continued letting his family pressure him into ignoring his own goals and focused on "paying his debt to his siblings (and father)" he was at best going to be held back forever so his brother's could stay relevant at his expense, and at worst he'd ruin his own career completely just so they could all fail together and his brother's egos would be spared.
Again, see how HE basically ended the band (or at least the version the public actually cared about). To them, it wasn't Michael going solo, it was him kicking them out. Like they would have TOTALLY made Thriller with him, or could have each done it on their own. Like his solo works are theirs by extention just because they used to do things as a group, and therefore they deserve the profit and the credit for something they were not involved in.
Joseph, of course, did not fucking help make the situation any better. I already mentioned all the physical abuse he put his children through during reharsals, but there's one more thing: he'd sometimes deliberately compare his other sons to Michael when they made a mistake while dancing or singing, to make them feel worse about themselves for not being as good as their brother. OBVIOUSLY that led to a ton of misplaced resentment towards their sibling for them, and to Michael feeling guilty about something that wasn't his fault.
Joseph is also the person who taught them their very warped idea of "family." He had always said that family was the most important thing in the world - because he was one of these parents who believed that, since he was responsible for them being alive, they owed him literally EVERYTHING and thus had to put up with EVERYTHING.
He wanted to beat them with a belt whenever they did anything wrong? They should just shut up and endure it, it's just discipline, and they wouldn't be going through that if they could just do what they're told.
He wants to control their careers, have "his share" of their money, and then use said money to cheat on their mother? Doesn't matter, he is still the man of the house if he's not the one making the money, and thus they owe him respect and shouldn't meddle on what he does with his life.
Michael is clearly depressed about all the trauma he was put through and the childhood that was stolen from him? Oh please, he should be thankful that he was made to work like a dog for most of his life, it's the thing that has allowed the whole family to live not just comfortably, but luxuriously - with his money. That he totally only made because of Joseph, so they really don't owe anything to Michael.
It's really no surprise that, after being raised by that man, Michael's brothers turned out the way they did. Their complaints were "God, he told me to buy a smaller house since I can't afford a mansion instead of buying said mansion for me, the watch he gave me for my birthday is only worth ONE million dollars instead of two, and he will only let us do a medley of our Jackson 5 hits during his show, not tour with us again, how selfish!" meanwhile Michael was complaining that since everyone, including his own family, was only ever thinking of how being close to him would benefit their image/lead to them making money, he was incredibly lonely and miserable.
Nine times out of ten, Michael helped his family out of "obligation" - because that's what they turned their relationship into. A transaction, a contract. Michael "paying his debt" to people that cared about his money and fame so much that they often forgot he was a person that, even after all they did, STILL loved them.
But I guess "We are totally responsible for his sucess, and in fact could have totally been just as famous" is a much more pleasant version of the story than "We completely failed our brother, and we should thank God everyday that he never fully broke free of this AWFUL family, because otherwise we'd be broke and even more irrelevant."
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onthearrow · 2 months
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hello arrow~ just curious, were you ever into game of thrones, and if so, who was your favorite romantic pairing (canon or not)? and did you ever at some point in time considered writing fanfiction about them?
Oh anon THANK YOU for this question I will now be putting on my GOT hat.
I loved GOT (and was ultimately disappointed like the rest of us) but still return to fic browsing occasionally. I've got two fave ships, the first of which is Jaime/Brienne. Jaime has a very compelling redemption arc (we are NOT talking about the last episode THANK YOU) that is hugely influenced by Brienne. She subverts so many of his expectations of what it means to be a knight and a lady and through that he begins to find the essence of his true self. Jaime himself is a fascinating character (the dyslexia?? omg) and the slow burn he has with Brienne is just *chef's kiss*.
As for Brienne, I really sympathize with her character. I was bullied as a kid and spent years feeling misplaced amongst my peers. I ended up determining my own path and coming into myself much as she has---I even took up fencing! And I love how she WANTS Jaime to be an asshole and he ends up un-asshole-ifying. In a way, he subverts her expectations too, they become equals, and they become a team. That shit is ROMANTIC.
My second-favorite ship will offend people, I'm sure, but there's a caveat to it so stay with me before sending me anon hate (that will be deleted, sorry). I LOVE Sansa and The Hound*. ASTERISK, BIG ASTERISK, because the age gap in the books is enormous and Sansa is a literal child. I cannot ship that romantically in good conscience, but platonically I'm obsessed with the dynamics of this relationship. In book 1 Sansa heads to the capital with her head full of beautiful princes and fairytales and castles and happily ever after, only to find out that her prince is the most sadistic fuck in all of Westeros and that the capital is cruel and that the good guys don't always win (her own father's execution???).
And then there's The Hound, the most objectively terrifying person around with the most hideous face, a complete perversion of the knights she grew up reading stories about. And yet he ends up being the one who shows her kindness. He gives her his cloak when Joffrey tries to strip her in front of the court. When he flees King's Landing, he offers to take her with him. I think there's a scene where she gets beaten and he offers her a handkerchief, too?
So while I can't ship a thirty-something alcoholic knight with a fucked up psyche with a literal teenager, I think this relationship is key in the recurring theme GRRM has going of subverting expectations. In canon, I'd like to see Sansa reunite with Sandor and ask him to be her sworn shield as Queen of the North. I think that would be a fitting ending for them. In fic, I love AUs where she's aged up and he's aged down and the author leans into the potential romanticism that that creates. It's just a straight-up no for me in canon.
Would I write fic for either of these? I don't think I'd write SanSan, but I would absolutely love to write for Braime at some point. Like at least an AU one-shot, but if I was going to go hard, I'd probably continue off from where we left them with Lady Stoneheart and give them a proper ending. (Unfortunately, I don't think GRRM is ever going to finish the series.)
This was a lot of information--sorry if it was too much anon! But I am happy to discuss GOT with anyone 😅
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