ARIES: I heard that somebody with icicles in their chest once told you that spring was only for people that know how to be wanted but they were lying. Hardly anybody takes care of honesty the way that you do and somehow that’s still a surprise. Take the weight of your insecurities and lay them to rest underneath a gravestone. When wildflowers grow from what you buried don’t bother to pick them. They’ll always be there. Don’t you know what it’s like to come back to things?
TAURUS: The peach pit on your dresser has been sitting there for years and it’s okay that you can’t throw it out yet. Okay that you can’t put it back into the fruit and unbite all of the soft and the sweet and the “maybe this time it’ll be different” that leaked out onto your fingers on the nights that your teeth feel too used to be desired. Wash your sheets and dry them outside. Lay underneath the clothes line and listen. Unclench your fists. Rewrite the grocery list.
GEMINI: It isn’t your fault that not everyone can swallow the parts of you that have sharp edges. You’ve been spending too much time forcing yourself down the linen aisle when you should be finding the nearest comic book store. There’s a reason superman is nicknamed “man of steel” and you deserve all of the iron-throated hearts that you can find. Invest in a metal detector. Don’t be ashamed of what you find.
CANCER: The way you bare your chest to the world is terribly brave and I don’t want you to continue feeling responsible for the people you’ve kissed that have taken advantage of that. Skin-deep damage does not make you unlovable, it gives you new perspectives. Don’t apologize for the ways you have tried to survive this. You’re better than the fires you’ve walked through and the storms you’ve caused. Suck on a peppermint until it loses its flavor. Name the taste after your last heartbreak. Now spit it out.
LEO: Your chest caves in whenever you think about the past and nobody’s ever told you that everything is temporary. Well, honey, I have some news for you. Start checking the mailbox again before the neighbors start to worry. People still want to stain paper with your name and martyring yourself over words is something you’ve become too talented at. Take a break, now and again. Burn the television set if that’s what it takes. Air out the smoke and look into a mirror, admire how powerful you seem as you step out of the haze of what’s gone.
VIRGO: Oh, baby, you’ve made mistakes and you’ve drained the bottles but you’re not the only one who’s felt like this. I know that it’s hard to let yourself feel these things but you have to try, you have to let the light in. It’s so dark in the room you’ve been using to store your regrets and your pallor has become a reflection of the ghosts you’ve been taking orders from. You were made for the sun. Let it kiss you without repercussion. Allow yourself to kiss it back.
LIBRA: So maybe you dropped too many pennies down the wishing well and now your wallet is nothing more than negative space. So maybe you forgot who gave you that good advice that one time and you’re still beating yourself up over it. Go ahead, admit to your faults. Set a place for them at the table and scold them for being late. Eat their portion and kick them out. Being familiar with every side to your geometric personality is not something to be ashamed of. Remember the angles, and keep moving. People like you are not meant to stand still.
SCORPIO: I think that your ears were made for listening to things that break. The shattering of a vase. The cracking of a heart. Does it ever get exhausting to be so awfully aware of how things sound when they forget to function? Nobody expects you to take every smashed hope and piece it together on your own. You are not a bottle of glue no matter how much you feel disaster sticks to you. I promise. You don’t have to carry that toolbox around, anymore. It looks heavy. Set it down.
SAGITTARIUS: You have your father’s mouth and consequently have dreams where you’re ripping it from your face. Somebody told you once that you were inadequate and now there’s a bruise on your ego and you can’t seem to stop touching it. Why are you so obsessed with how long it takes to heal? Why are you so afraid of letting people see you cry? Take off your armor and let your skin breathe. There’s still time to be okay with the idea of loss. You’re not too late. You’re not too late.
CAPRICORN: Stop using the word pathetic whenever anybody asks you to describe yourself. The people that hold you accountable for the abuse you’ve endured are the ones that turn away whenever they see it. You don’t need them, you never did. Can you feel that prickling sensation running up your arms? It’s tomorrow knocking and it wants to show you something beautiful. Let it. You’ve handled tragedy, surely you can handle tenderness.
AQUARIUS: You’ve been fucked over so many times it’s hard not to see yourself as a hotel room on the outskirts of town. Dark red bedsheets and rusty doorknobs and a lampshade that hasn’t been touched in a decade or two, this is where you lie and try to erase the memories from your naked body. You don’t want to belong to anybody almost as much as you don’t want people to believe they’ve changed you. They haven’t, you know that right? No matter how many people hike up mount everest it’s still a mountain. It’s still bigger than what’s stepping on it. It still keeps its name.
PISCES: You’ve become so good at sacrificing yourself for the possibility of something worthwhile that your body looks more like an altar than an assortment of bones. If this is your church I hope that your god looks like your nine year old face whenever somebody asked what you wanted to be when you grew up. I hope your prayer sounds like an exhale and that your choir sings in harmony and that every donation tastes like honey. Don’t forget to bow your head every once in a while. Remind yourself of your feet. Of how fast you’re able to run.
sorry, but do you have any tips for making poses/ full bodies? Whenever i try i end up giving up and crying. If you don't wanna answer that's okay too :)
why do I have a feeling that I know you…
I’m gonna sound like any other artist, but seriously, ref is kEY. Try studying it,(trace over it if you have to but please don’t post that) just do whatever to understand it. When you think you’ve got a hang of it, you can try sketching it without reference. (if it turns out disappointing than you can always go back)
If it’s a more dynamic pose, try loosening lines and strokes, make them curved and don’t add sharp edges.
it goes for stiller poses too:
but yeah, that’s all I got :D Please don’t cry. You’ll improve if you put your heart into it >:D
I am the one who will overload your senses, I am far too much of everything, but you will try to encompass all that I am. I will be the one who teaches you exactly what you want from “the one.” With me you will see things as though the lights were turned too high on the dimmer so that you could only see me and the music too loud that you couldn’t quite hear anybody else. With the next girl you end up with she will shine just brightly enough that you will be able to see everything you couldn’t see with me and the volume of her music will not leave you deaf when the song ends.
I will help you grow by pushing you to the extent of your limit, I will call you out when you’re wrong, I will ask you to do a little better than last time, and I will love you with a love you didn’t even know could exist.
It will feel as though one hand I’ve given you to hold holds all the love in the world and the other holds the words my tongue lashes out with no filter. But with those hands you will learn both the love you deserve and how to finally not hold back how you truly feel. These hands will teach you to speak freely without fear of condemnation and condescending judgements. They will teach you to love and touch everything that you find beautiful as you pull your hands through her hair or frolic through a patch of flowers and pull the petals to your face to smell their fragrance.
You see after me, you’ll learn not only how to love yourself, but love her. She will tell you that she’s never experienced a love quite like yours and you’ll never tell the secret that you learned it from me.
You see, I am the one before the one.
But like that scar you got from scraping your knee on the climb up your favorite mountain, you won’t forget me.
When pieces of her emanate me, I will be present in the breath you hold in just a second too long at the memory of me, the sharp feeling on your tongue as you bite down as my name starts to slip through your mouth, the butterflies in your stomach as you remember the way my eyes lit up at your presence. Her smooth edges that represent who she is will often remind you of my jagged edges, the ones that cut you but you still loved to climb. And for all those moments you’re reminded of me, you’ll touch your knee and realize you hadn’t climbed your favorite mountain to your favorite view in a while. You’ll wonder if instead of the common smooth edged rock you’d found on the ground, the one you could buy for five dollars at your local farmers market, you could’ve had a fine cut diamond with jagged edges.
And as you look into her eyes and see your reflection you’ll wonder if the pressure of my love could’ve made you a diamond as well.
There is two types of anger. There is an anger when you can’t see because your eyes are blurry from the tears you can’t stop crying. When your laying on the bathroom floor shaking hopelessly. Then there is the kind where you face is stone cold, you have nothing; no way you can express yourself. You voice gets sharp and you feel nothing. The difference between these two seems to be that you care too much, or you’re completely done. I honestly don’t know which is worse, but I can tell you that once you feel either of these over something; you shouldn’t feel it over that same thing again. A mistake happens once, if it is done again it is a choice. Remember that.
darling, I know you’ve been feeling down lately, so I wrote this really quick for you. I’m not sure what you had in mind, but I went to a 100 % unicorns place, so I hope this makes you smile a little.
A shadow falls across Stiles’ worksheet and he looks up to
see Lydia, mouth pursed, staring down at him. She says, “What do you know about
“About as much as the average eleven year old boy,” he says,
which is: not much. Horse-like, pointy horn, something to do with virgins.
Of course, he goes home and finds out everything he can
about them immediately. Both because Lydia asked, and because now he can’t stop
thinking about it.
Lydia has forgotten all about their conversation by the time
he’s ready to dazzle her with his knowledge, so alas, his mad unicorn skillz
lie dormant for years, until all the shit with the werewolves.
Stiles is cat-napping in a spill of sun when all his warmth
is blocked—he makes an irritated sound and opens his eyes to find Derek looming
over him, frowning. Stiles kicks out a
foot and rolls over onto his side in the grass.
Derek says, “What do you know about unicorns?”
Stiles yawns and says, “A surprising amount for a teenage
“Human?’ The girl cocked her head the other way. He caught a glimpse of pink gills under her chin. ‘My sisters told me stories of humans. They said they sometimes sing to them to lure them underwater.’ She grinned, showing off her sharp needle-teeth. ‘I’ve been practicing. Want to hear?” —Julie Kagawa, The Iron King
It’s the last class of the day and you can’t wait for it to
end. Your head hurts from the pale lights, the stuffy, unventilated room is
making you sick and you just want to go outside and inhale the cold air.
Finally you get up from your seat and storm out of the room
in the middle of the lecture. For once, the building wasn’t filled with
students and you could clearly hear the tapping sounds of your shoes as you
quickly rushed down the stairs.
You could feel little bits of fresh air coming in your direction
as you neared the already open front door.
The first thing you lay your eyes on when you exit the building is the black
G-Class Mercedes-Benz and instantly, you can feel your stomach twisting –
you’re excited, but there is fear in your body and you can’t explain why.
Jeon Jungkook of BTS x reader (Y/N) smut. Plain and simple.
Halloween, your favourite time of the year. You had always loved dressing up, even as a little girl. Your family had always hosted a Halloween party and just because you were now an adult and off at school, it didn’t mean you were going to stop the party. Hell no. If anything, you knew it’d be crazier than any party your parents could throw, after all, it’d be full of young adults getting drunk in fancy dress and no doubt fucking in any corner they could. You made a mental note to lock your bedroom door before people started to turn up.
Most of your housemates had gone off to different parties around the city and only one remained, Taehyung. He had been almost as excited for the party as you and insisted on helping you plan and set it all up. He also insisted you went in matching outfits, dressed as an old-fashioned couple he saw in a painting in the loft that thoroughly creeped him out. That painting was now the pride of place above the drinks table for the duration of Halloween month, as you called it. Taehyung hadn’t entered the living room since you put it up and it always amused you seeing him avoid it at all costs.
“Get the door Y/N!” Taehyung yelled from his room where he was well, you didn’t know what but you didn’t want to even question it after the last time you did and he went into explicit detail about the fantasy he was having while masturbating.
You groaned but dragged yourself to answer the front door, having barely heard it over the music you had playing.
On the other side of the door stood a male with dark hair and brown, doe eyes. He was wearing a pizza delivery uniform, a piece of paper in his hands.
“You’re early.” You mumbled, taking in his outfit. “Pizza delivery guy, huh? Honestly never seen that one before.” You mused, flashing the attractive stranger a grin. He blinked a few times then showed you the paper. “Wait, you’re actually a delivery guy?”
“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “Am I at the wrong place?”
“No, I just wasn’t aware we ordered anything. One sec.” You backed up into the hallway to stand at the bottom of the stairs. “Yah! Did you order pizza?!” You yelled. Taehyung grunted back a yes in response, sounded breathless. “Ew.” You shuddered and returned tot he door. “Guess you definitely are.” She looked at the paper, reading the order. “How fucking much did he order?”
“Having a party, I assume?” He chuckled, looking at your outfit up and down.
“Nah, I just like dressing like a sexually frustrated Victorian woman in my spare time.” He let out a breath of understanding.
“We all have our kinks.” He teased and you gasped, reaching out to nudge him in faux offence. He giggled and you couldn’t help but smile, laughing to yourself.
Were you really flirting with the delivery guy? You looked him over again, slower to really take in every inch of his being. Yes. You were definitely flirting with the delivery guy.
“So, should I start bringing it up?” He asked, pointing over his shoulder to the car parked on the road.
“Oh right, yeah, I’ll help.”
“Okay.” He grinned, glad for the help and together, you ferried the takeout from the car and into the kitchen.
He looked down curiously as you set up the boxes on the counters, around already existing food displays.
“Wow, you guys really like Halloween, huh?” He spoke, looking at all the decorations in awe. A lot of which you had made by hand the months before ass it was cheaper than buying some that probably wouldn’t even fit your ideas anyway.
“We hate it.”
“You’re really sarcastic, huh?”
“Never.” You looked at him then to see him grinning at you in amusement. “You know, you kind of look familiar.” You tilted your head at him, knitting your brows together.
“So do you. Maybe we’ve crossed paths before?” He suggested, looking as lost as you felt trying to recall why you felt like you’d seen him before.
“Yeah maybe. Do you go to school here?”
“On campus?” He pointed to the floor, signifying the campus your house resided on.
“Nah, I meant the playschool down the road. You’re a child, right?” He squared his eyes, giving you a playful warning glance. “Aw, isn’t it cute when little boys think they can scare grown-ups?” A gasp of surprise left your lips when he suddenly closed the gap between you, your chests almost touching, his head tilted down to look at you menacingly, a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.
“Want to call me a little boy again, huh?” He challenged, licking his lips. “See where it gets you.”
“Oh, honey.” You scoffed, snapping back to yourself. You bravely took the last step between you, your toes touching, your chest gently pushed against his, not missing how he inhaled sharply and flicked his tongue out to wet his lips again. “You can’t be suggesting you can make me take back my words.” He nodded confidently. “Oh little boy, you can’t make me do shit.”
“Watch me.” He growled cockily before pushing you against the wall, his lips crashing to yours.
He had only knocked your door ten minutes previous and here you were making out with the delivery guy in a room chock full of sexual tension you two quickly created. He let out a breathy moan when you bit his bottom lip gently. It was the single hottest thing you had ever heard and you knew you were wet.
“Fuck, is this seriously a thing that is actually happening?” You panted out, looking up into his eyes that were suddenly a lot darker, turning you on further.
“I really hope so.” He confessed.
“Fuck, me too.” You nodded and pulled him back down to lock your lips together, wasting no time and flicking your tongue out. He parted his lips and your tongues met, rubbing together earning moans from the both of you.
“When does your party start?” He asked when your lips parted only for yours to trace that intense, sharp jawline of his.
“Seven.” He checked his watch.
“It’s half six.”
“Plenty of time.” Without warning, he picked you up and sat you on his hips, pushing his body to yours. You gasped feeling his growing erection through all the layers of clothing between you.
“Okay I know this outfit probably took a lot of time but you need to take it off before I fucking rip it off.” He warned, practically growling as he glared at the layers of fabric that made up your skirt. You giggled and reached around to pull on the ribbon holding the back closed. He watched in impatient fascination ad you quickly removed the bottom half of your dress, leaving you in the tight blouse and underwear. “I shouldn’t find this as hot as I do but fuck, I really do.” You giggled and circled your hips, rubbing against the large bulge in his trousers making him moan lowly.
“I can tell.” You teased.
“You’re saying I’m the only one turned on right now? Because I can feel how wet you are through my pants, sweetheart.” Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Surely he was lying, it wasn’t possible to feel such a thing, right? A shakey moan left your lips when he slid a hand between your bodies to touch his long fingers to your clothes heat. “Oh, babygirl, you’re fucking soaked.” He cooed, smirking at you when your cheeks darkened. “Don’t be embarrassed."He pressed teasing kisses across your jaw as his voice dropped, whispering to you in a tone that was so low it shot straight to your core. "It’s so fucking hot.” He growled before his lips attached to your neck, sucking on the skin. You gasped and gripped his shoulders, fingers digging in when his fingers started to rub at you through your damp underwear.
“Wh-what’s your name?” You stuttered, his fingers hooking under your underwear to touch you directly. Your eyes closed and your head tipped back, absentmindedly grinding your hips down onto his digits as they teased you.
“Hm? My name? Why do you want-”
“I want to know what I should moan out.”
“Jungkook.” He rushed out without hesitation making you chuckle. “What’s your’s?”
“Y/N.” He hummed against your neck before saying your name in a breathy tone that made you moan his name back at him.
“My name sounds perfect coming from your lips.” Your legs tightened around him when he slid a finger into you. “God, you’re so fucking wet, my finger just slides right in. I bet you can take another huh Y/N? Think you can take more princess?” You nodded and a second finger followed his first. You moaned and held him tighter as they curled inside of you.
“J-Jungkook.” You almost pleaded breathlessly.
“I-I don’t want your fingers.” He stopped his movements, ceasing abusing your walls with the pads of his fingers in search for your g-spot.
“What?” He looked rejected and leant back slightly, pulling his fingers out of you. “Should I leave?”
“No.” You laughed and brushed your lips over his. “I want your cock, baby.” His eyes sparked with lust again and he nodded. He put you down to unbuckle his belt, hands fumbling in anticipation. You giggled seeing he was growing frustrated with the button on his jeans that just wouldn’t open. You put your hands over his and opened the fly easily. He dropped his hands to his side, licking his dry lips, eyes not leaving your figure as you lowered onto your knees in front of him, pulling down his jeans as you went until they were around his knees. Your eyes lifted to meet his gaze as you pulled down his boxers too. He bit his lip and threaded his fingers into your hair to tug you closer suggestively. It was clear what he wanted you to do, where he wanted you but he didn’t want to make you do anything you weren’t comfortable with.
A smirk lifted your lips and you stuck your tongue out, flattening it against the underside of his erection before licking from the base upwards, swirling your tongue around the tip. Jungkook moaned, his fingers gripping your hair tighter. His eyes wanted to close and focus on the pleasure but you looked so damn sinful on your knees in front of him like that he couldn’t pass up the chance to drink in the sight.
It didn’t take long for your teasing motions on his erection to really wind him up. He was breathing heavily, body tensed, watching to thrust into your mouth but not following his body’s wishes, by the time she gripped your shoulders and pulled you up to your feet.
He spun you and pushed you against the wall. Your hands flew out to slap against the brickwork making you hiss in pain. But the hurt left almost instantly. Jungkook all but ripped your panties in his rush to get them off.
One large hand gripped your bare hip to hold you still, pull your arse towards him more.
Jungkook grabbed his dick with his free hand and allowed himself a few pumps, spreading his precum up and down his length, as he took in the sight of you bent over, braced against the wall with legs spread, waiting for him to fuck you. As soon as his tip lined with your entrance, he started to push forward, entering you slowly. Satisfied moans left both your lips at the feeling. It felt as if you had been waiting for that moment for a long time, months not way under an hour.
Jungkook’s hips met yours as he bottomed out and he allowed you both a few moments to get used to it, soak in the feeling of him filling you so deliciously before he started to rock his hips. His thrusts were slow and pretty shallow at first, testing the waters before he picked up his rhythm, fucking you harder and deeper than anyone had in a long time.
Your fingers scraped against the wall, moans shamelessly leaving your parted lips as he hit deep within you.
Jungkook had his jaw clenched tight, trying to make as little noise as possible. As much as he was enjoying himself, he was almost enjoying hearing your noises of pleasure just as much.
You realised you could only hear the occasional grunt of effort from him and closed your mouth, sulking.
“W-what’re you doing?” He panted, slowing down slightly to talk without his voice breaking too much.
“I want to hear you.” You spoke.
“What?” He chuckled and fell still. You pushed up slightly and looked over your shoulder at him. He licked his lips at your dark expression, his hips shallowly thrusting into you again without him even really registering so.
“I want to hear how good you feel Jungkook. Moan for me baby.” You encouraged.
“You want that?”
“So fucking much.” He pulled your back to his chest making you whimper as he reached a new, better spot inside you, to kiss you heavily. You moaned into his mouth when he returned to snapping his hips into you. You had to pull out of the kiss, unable to focus on it when he was hitting the perfect spot inside you that made you see spots.
“You’re so fucking hot.” He moaned, wrapping one arm around your waist and pressing his palm against your chest to keep you against him int hat position. His other hand reached over to rest against the wall once he had moved you both forward before his hips went fucking wild.
You were practically screaming in pleasure, your nails dragging down his forearm, leaving red marks. Jungkook was certain you had even broken the skin but it only spurred him on.
“Fu-fuck, Jungkook.” You whined, your legs starting to shake.
“Are you going to cum?” He panted into your ear, his hot breath making you shiver as it fanned over your neck. You nodded. “Good, cum on my cock like a good girl, Y/N.” A loud moan left your lips as the pleasure in your stomach exploding sending your hips jutting as your orgasm hit you.
Jungkook gritted his teeth, determined to last a little longer despite your walls clenching and spasming around him. But the second you moaned his name, he lost it and his hips slammed against you roughly a few times as he came, squeezing his eyes tight and burying his face in your neck.
Your walls clenched a little tighter at the sound of your name falling from his lips like a fucked out mantra.
Slowly, you both came down from your highs and caught your breath back. Jungkook’s face scrunched into a wince against your neck as he pulled out of you before letting you go, a little reluctantly it felt, to pull his clothing back up and tuck himself away.
“Well, that’s the best tip I’ve ever gotten.” He sniggered and you rolled your eyes before laughing too, collecting your clothing. You turned to look at him sternly upon finding a hole in your underwear, at the waistband.
“Jungkook!” You exclaimed. He looked at the garment before grinning sheepishly at you. “These are my favourite ones!”
“I’m sorry, I’ll replace them.” He offered, taking them from your hand quickly to look them over. You ignored him to put your skirt back on, glad it was floor length and there was no chance anyone would know you were without underwear.
“Right, okay.” You held your hand out. He held the item closer. “You’re seriously going to steal my ripped underwear?”
“I need them so I know what I’m replacing.” He argued. You gave him a disbelieving look. “Like you want them back now they’re ripped anyway.” He scoffed and tucked the item into his pocket. You simply rolled your eyes again. “I should get back to work. I still have another delivery to do. My boss is going to kill me for being late. They’re going to get free pizzas now.” He sighed heavily.
“I’m sorry for letting you fuck me.” You retorted and he chuckled at your sarcasm.
“Never apologise for that. I’ll give away all the pizzas free if I can fuck you again.” You bit your lip, pretending to think as you walked him tot he front door. “So, can I see you again?” He asked turning back to walk tot he door after walking down the porch steps.
“You do owe me underwear.” You grinned. He grinned back and nodded. He checked his watch before looking between his car and you, debating something. He rushed over and held your face to press a heavy, lingering kiss to your lips. “What’s that? So I don’t forget what you taste like?” You joked.
“Always leave them wanting more.” He winked then practically ran to his car to speed off for his next delivery. You rolled your eyes and returned to the house, stopping at the hallway mirror to check your reflection and make yourself presentable.
“Did you just fuck the delivery guy?” You jumped hearing Taehyung’s teasing voice at the stairs. You looked over at him with a smirk and he started to cackle. “That’s my girl!” He high fived you before helping you get back into costume properly.
It was two hours later when you stopped in shock, seeing a familiar face stood at the bottom of the stairs with Taehyung, the pair goofing around with some of Taehyung’s other friends. You had just come up from the haunted house in the basement.
“There she is!” Taehyung cooed spotting you. The boys all turned to look at you, the friends of Taehyung’s you had met pulling you to them in drunken affection.
“Alright, boys.” You laughed pulling away to stand between Taehyung and the familiar face.
“Oh, you haven’t met before, have you?” Taehyung drawled, shuffling drunkenly to lean against the stair railing. “This is Kookie.” He spoke pointing to your right, at Jungkook. You looked at him to see he was already smirking at you.
“Ah, the infamous Kookie.” You spoke nodding slowly. “Tae tells me you have like no balls when it comes to girls.” Their friends laughed as you insulted Jungkook. You smirked and he raised his eyebrows at you.
“Guess you know that’s a load of shit.” He replied, voice low.
The conversation was quickly pulled away from you two as Hoseok screamed as a fake spider landed on his head. Everyone erupted in laughter as he ran off to chase the culprit, promising their head on a spear. The remaining group returned to the conversation, not even noticing as Jungkook moved closer to you and slyly put a hand on your arse.
“Still not wearing any panties huh? Naughty girl.” He teased, groping your flesh roughly.
“I’m not and it makes it that much harder to stop your cum running down my leg.” Jungkook sucked in a breath at that and you looked up at him bravely, not caring that your friends could catch you two flirting so openly, sexual tension already building between your close bodies. “I bet you’d like to see that, hm? Your cum spilling out of me.”
“So fucking much.”
You smirked and excused yourself, walking up to your room. You knew Jungkook would follow shortly and you had a feeling every orgasm he gave you was going to be better than the last and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to take every chance to fuck your delivery boy.
I’m always searching for music that ignites and feeds my magickal energy, so here are a few of my very favorite artists that influence my practice.
I hope one inspires you <3 (Thoughts coming from a Solar Pisces/Lunar
SEVDALIZA (a Virgo)
Like a divine author equipped with the forces of nature, she
writes new laws of physics, crafting a universe in her music that exists purely
to express her mind. Listen to her and your body will feel a little heavy, mind
a little slower, and there will be a bloom of unity between physical sight and the inner eye.
(Grounding & personal power, cursing, protection, cleansing)
Listen to: Human, That Other
Girl, Sirens of the Caspian, Clear Air
BANKS (a Gemini)
I listen to Banks at night. She captures that gloomy, dark,
almost erotic feeling of camping alone or skinny dipping under a full moon. Her smokey voice makes me think of dark forests and nocturnal animals, rum and
lighting cigarettes from embers. She makes me creative, like illustrating my grimoire or arranging my
altar. (Moon magick, love & sex work, past life regression, potions)
Listen to: Mother Earth, Goddess, Gemini Feed, Weaker Girl,
Poltergeist, Fuck With Myself
Liraz (a Gemini)
Liraz has an energy that flies into your heart and creates wings.
Her voice is the voice of a river goddess who travels to villages during summer
festivals and nourishes them. I hear her and I feel like I can conquer the treacherous deserts of
life or simply wish them into an oasis. When I’m trying to manifest my goals, I
can borrow her confidence and sharpness to get my work done. (Manifesting,
self-love, full moons, kabbalah)
Listen to: Age Ya Rooz, Love Me Like You Do, Nozi Nozi, Zendegi,
Bon Iver (a Taurus)
I think everyone who listens to Bon Iver would agree that the
best word to describe Justin Vernon’s style is “ethereal.” He has had a
lot of influence on artists like Kanye, too. When I listen to Bon Iver, I feel
my mind being exercised into finding patterns and meaning where I would otherwise
look passed them. (Divination, healing, numbers, sacred geometry & sigils, crystals)
Listen to: 715 CR∑∑KS, Moon Water, Holocene, 666, Heavenly
Father, Blood Bank
FKA twigs (a Capricorn)
Her moon is in Sagittarius
and her music makes that so obvious. It’s a journey with her, an adventure of
twists and surprising pitches and beats that are difficult to identify. She is
a master creator of a painted almost royal world. Like a candle or sand falling through my hands, she’s as familiar as she entrancing; a
reality slightly altered. (Astral projection, dream work, tarot cards, astrology)
[flourishing a paper dramatically] for my next batch of weirdly specific and irrelevant headcanons, i give you: voltron driving hcs
pidge – too young to drive, but when she turns 16 literally no one is surprised to discover she is an awful driver. her turns are too sharp, her stops are too sudden, and she doesn’t watch her speedometer (“ma'am do you know how fast you were going?” “uh…35” “60”). i’m not entirely sure that she even passed her driving test, but i am totally sure she takes matt’s car anyway.
hunk – also not a great driver. he just. never really gets a feel for driving. in the first six months he drove, he got three flat tires and countless dents. good news: he’s good at fixing cars. he just cannot drive them.
lance – honestly, a good driver, but he always has music blasting and is always dancing and it scares the life out of hunk (“lance please put your hands on the wheel!” “lance please stop tapping your foot, that’s the gas pedal!” “LANCE YOURE GONNA MISS THAT TURN–”). he has never been in an accident, though, and genuinely enjoys driving. therefore he is the official driver between himself, pidge, and hunk.
keith – That Asshole who thinks traffic laws don’t apply to him. has never gone the speed limit in his life. common conversations in his car:
“keith, stop tailgating that guy, he’s going the speed limit” “well it’s too slow!!”
“keith stop that’s a red light” “don’t worry, there are no cars around and this intersection doesn’t have a camera”
“please slow down oh my god that’s a sharp turn yOURE GONNA FLIP THE CAR” “[laughing as the tires squeal]”
again, though, he is a genuinely Good Driver and has never been pulled over, much to lance’s annoyance.
shiro: everybody /thinks/ he’s a good driver bc he’s the model of safety whenever he’s driving the kids (“i’m not pulling out of the driveway until everyone is buckled up”). then, one day, the kids are driving on the highway and they see shiro’s car speed past, going at least 90mph and weaving between traffic. incredible.
allura: doesn’t drive often, but when she does, she has RIDICULOUS road rage. like, she’s a good driver otherwise, but whenever someone cuts her off or something, she’ll hold down the horn and then rant at her unfortunate passenger (usually shiro) for a solid minute. at least.
coran: perfect driver. uses turn signals perfectly, smooth turns, effortless merging. if he’s running late for something? all of that way past the speed limit. best driver.
matt: could be a good driver in theory, but never focused on the road. he zones out so easily that, like pidge, he’s almost constantly over the speed limit. “[staring unseeingly at the road for five minutes] shiro do you think gerard way is happy?“ "please god let me drive”
Ask sent by Anonymous, “Reaction request: Y/N being to embarrassed to moan? I love your page. You’re amazing 💗”
Note: I’ve been hella sick and missed two weeks of college and because of this, I have become a lazy ball of asocialness and refused to work on anything but watch Naruto. come at m e. but tysm anon youre so cute
“Jagiya,” he whispered as you sat on his lap, bare, with your head laying in the crook of his neck. He could feel your sharp intakes of breaths, feel your flaming cheeks against his skin as he tried to see your eyes only to find them hidden beneath strands of hair. “Are you fine?”
He found your embarrassment cute, per se. Nothing could be heard as you nodded, your breaths seizing as the sound of slaps on skin bounced throughout the room.
His heart melted at the sight of your watery eyes, looking to the side as you bit your lip to prevent yourself from moaning. “Babe,” he whispered, and your eyes quickly averted to his, red cheeks and damp skin glimmering slightly from the moonlight seeping through the curtains. “It’s okay.” He assured you, corners of his lips tilting up as he softly smiled.
Leaning down, his lips latched onto yours as he thrusted into you, the feeling of you moaning through the kiss being enough for him.
He couldn’t help but chuckle softly as his chest melded with yours, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he hovered over you. Just seeing you trying to hold yourself back from making noise had his fingers slightly wiping the sweat trickling down your temple to the side as he leaned close to your ear.
“You know,” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine, “if you moan, you’d feel so much better.”
He found it rather rejuvenating seeing your shirt pulled above your breasts as your bra laid undone on the obsidian asphalt — your back was pressed roughly against the brick wall of the building inside the dark alley, yet, you did everything your power to keep quiet. You gripped onto his beanie, and through the serenity of the chilly wind, no one noticed you two painted beneath shadows.
But, he said nothing, only enjoying this moment and seeing you squirm in embarrassment.
It was too quiet, yet, so much was happening.
He bit his lip, stomach coiling as he watched your hands clench into fists as your body trembled beneath the evanescing dimmed lights of the studio. The power was out, but the life still roared within him, gasping softly as he fell into you whilst still moving with so much power. “Don’t hold it in, jagi,” he whispered harshly, kissing your cheek, “let me hear you.”
His hair was dripping with sweat as his eyes were clouded with longing, his visionaries boring into your own teary ones as the inside of your elbow covered your mouth to keep you from muttering any sort of sound. Carefully, he used his arm to unravel yours away from your face — a tear slipping down your cheek from his added warmth grasping your limb.
“Don’t be shy,” he breathed, his finger moving to flick your bottom lip as his hips continued to move with much more strength, “I love you..so much.”
To him, you were art.
Slouched on the couch as the tv flashed in the background, he pressed paused on his video game as you lazily sat on his lap — moving sloppily as your hand cupped over your mouth, becoming too anxious if Jungkook would ever take the chance to tease your moans and compare them to a character from the game. But he never did, placing his controller to the side as he gripped your hips and slammed into you. “You’re beautiful,” he grunted, “you know that, right?”
Hello hi! I have a prompt if you're feeling up to it? There is so much of Andrew looking after sick!Neil but can we have it reversed? I think Andrew would low-key (highkey) love the focused attention from Neil (also,,, Neil not being sure how to look after sick people and turning to advice from the other foxes as discreetly as possible bc there's no way Andrew wants them knowing he's anything less than impenetrable)
(I did my best w this prompt from one POV, sorry it took so very absurdly long! lots of Andrew thoughts with a side of useless boy dialogue)
He wakes up bleary and dry-mouthed, his tongue catching on his hard palate like papers rustling together. Andrew squints into his pillow, pressing two fingers into the eyelid of one streaming eye. The sun is too dilute to touch him, and the breeze from the cracked window chills him so much that it hurts, muscles locked and shivering.
He knew he was getting sick when the hurt that lives inside him flared real, visible and disgusting. All this hacking, running, sweating makes him vulnerable, loud when he wants to be quiet. Neil had called him overdramatic. He’d dragged the covers to his side of the bed in reply, battered sleep’s door until it splintered.
Now he feels like he always felt in the heart-racing countdown to withdrawal, fighting through sweat and aches and cracking lips, cracking skin, cracking strength. Whiskey won’t help him here though. Nothing will help him here, after rowing through the confused, freezing night and only now washing up in foggy morning, fever lapping at him.
Something drips onto his hot forehead and his chest pumps hard, startled. His eyes flash open.
Neil is frowning, looming over him and holding a cold rag that’s a bit too wet. It’s clumsy, but it feels better when Neil arranges it on his sweaty brow. His hand stays on the compress, a sustaining pressure, like he’s healing with just his hands and his willpower. Water runs into his hair like tears.
“How are you?” Neil asks. His other hand walks from the bedspread to Andrew’s side, he can feel the fingertips becoming a full-palmed press. It’s the comfort of a person who always feels better when he’s touched hard and deliberately, alive in a way he can feel.
Andrew doesn’t reply, but he knows that his closed eyes and relaxed body mean something to Neil. He trusts him with his hot forehead and his bedside.
“You look bad,” Neil continues.
“I am not playing,” Andrew says hoarsely. “If that’s what you’re angling for so tactfully.”
Neil’s hands retreat, Andrew’s forehead folds under the rag where no one will see. “I’m here because you’re my— I’m not worried about our goalie, I’m worried about you.”
“You’re here because this is your room,” Andrew corrects.
“Fine,” Neil says, voice full of the opposite. “I’m going to practice, anyway, since that’s all I care about.”
Andrew feels him leave their bed, and he finds that the wet smell of his hair was keeping his headache at bay. Another drop of water rolls down his temple, and he scrubs the compress from his face so he can watch Neil leave, but he’s already gone.
It haunts his heart, for a while, the snapped olive branch, the hurt that put its fist in its mouth and left the room so Andrew wouldn’t see it properly.
He knows, deep in him, that he’s not being any different than usual, but he also knows what Neil might have expected, seeing him spread out in their bed with his eyes wet. He’s trying to fix Andrew’s surface like he never tries to fix what’s underneath.
Neil doesn’t have the vocabulary for sickness that isn’t terminal, though. He can’t fathom something between a bandaid and a prosthetic.
He drifts, for hours, so thirsty that he can feel it in his skin, so stuffed from throat to nose that he can only breathe dry and heavy through his mouth. He can hear the wheeze inside of him.
In foster care, they would make him sleep in the garage when he got sick. They didn’t want him to infect a house full of already difficult children. He remembers watching the shadows of feet moving in the light under the door, the way the cold only made him sicker and angrier, a yoga mat between his body and the concrete.
He blinks and his eyes are crusted together. He can taste salt. He thinks of Neil and the pain in his chest changes. He latches onto the feeling, like the garage door opening in the morning, letting him back into the warmth.
‘Do you not fucking speak english?!’ You screamed over at Bucky. The two of you were meant to meet for dinner at one of your favourite restaurants after you had finished work. You booked a table there for 6, giving you enough time to get home and change before you got there.
‘Yes, I speak over 30 languages’ Bucky yelled back at you, taking off the gym clothes he wore to meet Steve earlier that day. According to your boyfriend you had said seven so he thought he could finish at the gym at 6;30 giving him half an hour to get ready. Only when he got home you sitting on the bed, all dressed up and fuming from having to wait for him.
‘Ok. I’ll say what I said to you yesterday is Spanish. Seis!’ your hair was pinned back and styled so you took it out, facing the mirror but you could still see his reflection.
‘You said seven!’ He was now taking off his hoodie and shirt. You were so mad at him but he looked so good.
‘I said six!’
‘No, you didn’t’
‘Why would I book a table at six then tell you seven? What, you think I want to spend quality time with my glass of fucking water’ you finally turned to look him in the eye, but he couldn’t look at you. For a second you weren’t sure if he was angry or upset. But then you heard the metallic whirring of his arm, it was very distinctive when he was angry
‘I’m not doing this right now’ He turned away from you, his hands in the air. Then stormed off into the bathroom, slamming the door hard behind him.