You are a fireball of energy, blazing through life. You want to savor it’s rawness and be strong in all your might, and you are strong. But it’s okay to cry, and let the softer parts of yourself show- even for a moment- even if it’s just to yourself. Because deep down, through all that strength and valor, you still have the innocence of a child. Not everyone will understand what it’s like to be so authentic in the core, and that’s okay. You are you, in all of your wholeness and that should be shameless. Your childlike innocence doesn’t take away your strength, it gives you an impenetrable shield.
When you look in the mirror, what do you see? Do you love the person staring back at you, Do they fit the definition of what you find as beautiful? Look deeper, past the skin, past the tangible, and feel- do they feel Beautiful- If not, why not? If the answer has anything to do with other people, listen close. Beauty is subjective but you embody it, you are Earth in her purity, natural and cunning. It’s okay if you don’t always see, but always try to feel it. People don’t always understand the beautiful things in life and that’s okay, as long as you are aware of it yourself- you are akin to a flower blooming. No matter the petals, you are aromatic, intoxicating. Not everyone stops to smell the flowers, but take this as a reminder you always should.
You are a whirlwind of everything around you, and it’s quite remarkable. No one can pin you down, as you can hardly grasp yourself. You are a curiosity, as no one understands you, some days you don’t understand yourself. That’s okay, life is about perpetual learning, and not just about knowing. Knowledge may bring comfort, but it doesn’t secure it. You are a tornado, and it’s natural not everyone can keep up, and that’s okay. You are light-hearted being, with light that needs to dance and smile. Don’t let anyone take your smile away, and or erase the many facets of who you are. With so many faces, you aren’t fake, you’re just multi-dimensional.
You are sensitive and passionate, with a hard shell protecting everything you love. Life comes to you in phases, and you follow your passions wherever they may lead you. You shine brightly in the dark, when all is still. You are a contradiction, like most wonderful things- hard on the outside with a softness inside, both nurturing but harsh. It’s okay to be all of these things, and it’s okay to trade them out through time. You are the moon, and the moon is constantly reinventing herself.
You love fearlessly and boldly, and not everyone can handle that. Some are blinded, some are envious, but that’s okay, as long as it doesn’t dull who you are. You shine for those around you, because you love them and you need to know they love you too. It’s okay to love like you do, it’s okay to shine as bright as you do. You have a childlike adoration, and attention serves as validation. Praise strokes the fire in your heart, just remember not everyone has learned about love in it’s pure form. Love them as you would any other stranger, because they need it just as much, but don’t let it drain you. It’s okay to love the world, just know when to it’s time to move on, and be someone else’s sunshine.
You are the oil in the gears that make the world run smoothly. You are anxious, making double sure you’re perfecting your part in the world. It’s natural to want to feel appreciated, as you do so much for others. You might not always do the glamorous things, or be in the center, but you always are doing something. It’s okay to want to be thanked, it’s okay to want to be adored- because you deserve it. Just know, you have to appreciate yourself before anyone else does. Some people don’t see all of what you do, and you can’t change that. You can change who you service, and you can change how you percieve yourself. Always remember to adore yourself, and give yourself credit for everything you do. Without you, this world would be chaos, so remember you are important.
Who are you ? I’m sure you ask yourself this quite a lot, and it’s okay if the answer changes daily. It’s okay if the answer changes, because whether you believe it of not, there is no definite answer. People around you may seem solid in who they are, but their not, and that’s okay too. You are not less than them, and you a more than just a reflection, even if that’s others see you. Your identity is fluid, and it changes based upon the people- and that’s why being alone sometimes can be so scary. You are left unarmed as to who you are, with only the scraps of thoughts to keep you together. And sometimes those thoughts aren’t so pretty, and that’s okay, because you’re also more than what ugly thoughts have to offer. You are beautiful, in and of yourself, you are an egnima.
You are a curious being plopped in a curious world. There is so much mystery, so much hidden depth. Of course you want to explore it all, to you, there is no such thing as an unanswerable question, and every wonder has a right to be answered. This frightens the world at large, because the world isn’t always ready for the truth you bring. It’s okay that you wonder those questions, no matter how dark or taboo. This isn’t a fault with you, because the world is heavy in denial. This is your virtue, because you walk the path so many are hesitate to glance down. Always ask, always discover, always seek, just remember security isn’t always found in the answers. Sometimes the answers break the security you thought you had, and this begs more questions. It’s okay to vulnarable, it’s okay to be exposed sometimes, especially to those who mutually love you, as you love them. Perhaps it’s this way, you’ll find the answer you’re looking for through yourself? But that’s just another question you’re going to have to answer- and it’s okay if there’s more after that.
The world is an adventure, and an experience to indulge in. You are a wildfire, untamed and wild, It’s okay to wander. Beings like you aren’t meant to be caged, you are meant to drift and discover, to teach all those who listen. It’s okay to want to befriend the world, just remember not everything is friendly. You know this, but you’re brave and luck always seems to be on your side. It’s okay to believe in luck, always count your stars while you can. If by some stroke of chance you loose them, know that you can always find them again, or better, create your own lucky stars.
The world is dark, it is hollow, but you fill a much needed crack within it. You are the cement that holds the foundation for many different people, and that’s why the world feels so heavy. It’s okay to feel brittle after holding so much weight for so long. It’s okay to feel exhausted, because this world is mericiless and you brave it well. Your ambitions is what carries you and the ones you love. Just remember, you are also human, and not a machine, even if others don’t see it that way. Remember that, it’s okay to rest, and that you can always carry on in the morning.
When people imagine colors that don’t exist, they think of you. You function on a plane that many people never ventured on, because so many people are afraid of what they don’t know. You embody what people are afraid of, not because you’re scary, but because you’re different. Different- that’s an adjective that’s used so much in reference to you, it’s practically a synonym to your name. You are just you though, and that’s the magic of it. It’s okay if people don’t understand you’re unique sense of self, it’s okay if they don’t understand your compassion for the world. Its okay if some nights are lonely because you feel misunderstood, some things aren’t meant to be understood by everyone. You aren’t alone for this, you are united because of it. It’s through your eccentricity that will bond you with the few people that truly understand.
The world consumes you, as you unknowingly consume it. You a radar of sensitivity, picking on the undercurrents that most people don’t notice. Some days it feels like your drowning in those waves, and no one understands. They don’t, and that’s okay. They don’t understand you, because often times, they are half blind to the world around them. You hold unimaginable depth, and some people don’t know how to handle that. You are a sponge, soaking up the world’s vibrations and empathy. This may seem like a curse, but it’s a blessing to see the world so vibrantly. This world consumes you, but that’s okay, because you also have the power to capture it.
I walked into the room, avoiding direct eye contact with the alien waiting for me. Its huge eyes just looked like a jet black sclera set in a sack of vaguely damp, wrinkled gray leather. If eyes are a window into the soul, this creepy little guy would give satan a run for his money. They just put me on edge, somehow. I’d have to make eye contact anyway, but it could wait.
I strode up to the meeting table, pulled out the chair, and sat down. I shuffled around in my bag for a moment before pulling out a small piece of tech, which I set on the table in front of me.
“Before we begin, I want to be sure of a few things. This device you’ve provided us with, it is 100% effective at understanding and translating languages, correct?”
The alien across from me nodded. It’s a nice little allowance they’ve made for comfort, learning our body language, but its bulbous head threw the whole gesture off. It made me think of one of those old inflatable toys with a weight on the bottom, that would lean too far to the side before bouncing straight back up. Woobles or something. It didn’t really matter.
“Nearly. We occasionally find a race with one or two concepts that it has trouble with, but that’s easily smoothed over.”
I took a deep breath, and waited a moment to compose myself. This whole thing was going to be more trying than not interrupting old man Higgins up the street while he went on about whatever racist sentiment was in his head at the moment.
“One or two…okay. That’s odd.”
The alien blinked. Eyelids came in from not just the top and bottom, but also the sides. That’s just plain creepy. Reminds me of one of those really old movies they threw on the media blacklist pretty much as soon as first contact started. Something in black. Whatever it was, I remember seeing it as a kid, and that guy at the beginning had nothing on this alien’s eyes.
“Have you already found something it can’t translate?”
I nodded, then pulled out my communicator and scrolled through a few documents. I really needed to clean this thing out. Can’t believe I didn’t get around to it before coming to such an important meeting. Imagine the debacle that would result if I opened exactly the wrong thing. Never can know what that might be, honestly.
“Of a sort, yes. Mind humoring me for a few minutes?”
The alien steepled its hands together, and leaned forward. That’s just plain creepy. I wonder how they learned such context specific body language? Not that it really matters, I guess. Not my problem.
“Certainly. After all, it can take years to accept a race into the Federation.”
Nodding again, I pulled up a document on my communicator, then leaned back in my chair as I began. This was going to be more interesting than that time your classmate Jimmy found some old matches somewhere and almost burned the school down by mistake.
“Excellent. This shouldn’t take much time. I mentioned that we found some issues with your device. Allow me to demonstrate: Espionage.”
The little device on the table beeped, and a red light flashed.
“ERROR: NO ANALOGUE FOUND”
I sighed. That one had been an accident. We just had the thing sitting in a conference room while we discussed the implications of the visit when it came up. But, when something that simple for us to understand came up, we had to try for more.
Again, a beep and a flash of red.
“ERROR: NO ANALOGUE FOUND”
And again with the beep. This was going to get irritating if I didn’t speed things up a bit. Too bad we hadn’t managed to find a mute option for that feature.
The device gave off a series of distressed beeps, punctuated by rapid blinking of the little red light. I almost felt sorry for it. Almost.
“TOO MANY ERRORS DETECTED. REBOOTING. RUNNING SELF DIAGNOSTIC. NO DISCREPANCIES FOUND,”
I paused, and glanced across the table at the alien before looking back down at the translator. This was going to hit it harder than a washed up holovid actor with no auditions and less money hits rock bottom.
The chair across from me clattered to the ground as the alien practically fell out of its seat. I don’t blame the poor thing. Of all the aggressive, militaristic words we tried, that was one of the ones we least expected to translate. I mean, really. Who has a word for the intentional extermination of an entire sapient species when they don’t even understand fundamental hostile international mechanics like spying?
“Why do you have a word for…what was all that just now?”
I chuckled a bit while motioning for the alien to sit back down. His reaction had been pretty good, perfectly suitable for one of those hammed-up old dramas where the hero realizes they’ve been working with the villain all along.
“We were confused about that too. So we took a look at the information you sent as part of first contact with us. We noticed something interesting. Every single race in your Federation is carnivorous. Why is that?”
The alien seemed smaller somehow as it settled back into a seat. It looked kind of like a balloon slowly losing air, if that balloon was made of moldering gray leather with eyes that made your spinal column decide it wanted a holiday in Fiji.
“First contact has always been made after sapient races make it to multiple worlds. We’ve never found a sapient herbivorous race which failed to destroy themselves in resource wars and aggressive action. We’ve never found herbivores capable of surviving long enough to leave their own world.”
I leaned forward in the chair and smiled while finally making direct eye contact with the alien. I think the poor thing shivered when I did that. Not that I blame it. Imagine your reaction when you start to put the pieces together and realize that your friendly, upstanding next door neighbor might be the world’s most wanted criminal.
“And the races you have found, while commonly using threat displays, do not waste resources on wars they cannot easily win, correct?”
The alien nodded as it slouched a bit in its chair. It looked kind of like it was trying to hide. Who wouldn’t want to hide from the monsters in their closet?
“Wasted resources means decreased likelihood of survival.”
I shrugged. That was true enough, though rather coldly logical. Dispassionate logic like that has never been our strong suit. Then again, that’s why I’m in this situation in the first place, so it evens out.
“And yet herbivores constantly waste resources on aggression, on movement, on having more young than will possibly survive.”
The alien was staring at me. I’m not sure when the last time it blinked was. I wonder if those eyes need some kind of lubrication to keep from drying out. Probably, they looked a bit less creepy than they should’ve. Looked like they were losing their shine.
“And they die for it. That’s exactly why we’ve never encountered spacefaring herbivores. Their inherent aggression is their own demise.”
I held eye contact. I’d almost swear the alien was a weird statue right now. Don’t know who would commission a statue made of old greasy leather, but I’m sure there’s someone with too much money and too little sense who would give it a shot.
“Indeed. Now, back to the subject at hand. I’ll ask you before we continue: what can you offer humans for joining your Federation?”
The alien sputtered as it started moving again. I’d swear it looked offended. Maybe it doesn’t see where this is going. Not that it really matters, I guess. I mean, it probably matters about as much as posting a formal complaint to a new corporate policy, which is to say not at all.
“We’ve already sent the offer. You’ve seen that, I’m sure.”
I nodded, and began to tap out a staccato rhythm on the table with my fingers. I never could remember where I learned this stupid tune. I’ve known it as long as I can remember, and it just moves into my head on occasion and sticks around like that one couchsurfing friend who doesn’t understand the idea of wearing out their welcome.
“And I’m asking, what else do you have to offer?”
The alien just shook its head again, staring at the device. I wonder if it thought we might’ve tampered with it. As if we knew how. That little thing is way beyond our current abilities. We had some scientists pry it open and look inside, just to be sure.
“Nothing. I’m not sure why you’re-”
I raised my hand, cutting him off. Huh. Not sure why that worked. Did they learn that much of our body language? That’s still really creepy, if it’s the case. Or, maybe I just have it on edge. I dunno. I guess it doesn’t matter.
“May I have permission to connect my datapad with my ship’s computers?”
The alien glanced away from me for a moment. I assume it was checking in with superiors somehow. Maybe it was psychic, to an extent. Or maybe they just had an implant of some sort. We’ll find out eventually, I’m sure.
“Yes, if you like.”
I sighed. I guess that makes things easier for us. I don’t think anyone was going to like what I was about to do. This whole thing felt kind of like one of those holovids of an accident, where you know what’s coming and don’t want to keep going, but for some reason you just can’t seem to stop and pull yourself away.
“Computer, show video: Hiroshima”
A screen appeared in the air above my datapad. It started playing back an old, grainy video. Shaky, taken by hand in an aircraft in a firefight. Below, you can barely see a city being blotted out by a massive explosion. A cloud of smoke, fire and debris was rapidly climbing into the sky, billowing, growing, blooming into an eerie and easily recognized mushroom cloud.
“That’s…you’re using weapons of that scale on a population center? How recent was this?”
I shrugged, and closed the video. The screen on my datapad went back to the document I had up earlier. Gotta love how well they managed to predict this whole thing. I made a mental note to recommend a raise for whoever set up that document for me.
“Three centuries ago. Prior to our invention of spaceflight. Part of a much larger conflict. This is a relatively minor example of “overwhelming force”“
“ERROR: NO A-”
“Shut it. Computer, show infosheet: Battle of Stalingrad.”
A series of graphs and diagrams appeared above my datapad. They showed resources, time, maps, battle plans, and death tolls. Images were interspersed throughout, as were annotations on the tactical value of this, the emotional value of that. Prominent among them was a single apartment building, including notes on sniping from the roof and support via tunnels.
“That…what purpose would that…why w-”
Again, I raised my hand to cut him off, before closing the infosheet. Maybe it was both. Nah, couldn’t be. Only way it was both having this guy on edge and our body language is if it somehow had our body language built in. Unsettling thought, but not exactly likely.
“Because Stalingrad was an advantageous location and the people who died there were considered ‘Acceptable losses’“
“Computer, show gallery: General Sherman’s March to the Sea.”
A multitude of images appeared over the datapad. Rail lines and roads intentionally broken and destroyed. Farms and fields scoured clean and left to fallow. Buildings and towns razed to the ground. A broken people left to mourn and starve.
“So much waste…that can’t be intentional, can it?”
I glanced at the images, the wanton destruction that campaign caused, and the very orders that caused it. That kind of thing may be considered morally reprehensible now, even a war crime, but it wasn’t always. At the time, the strategy was extolled as one of the reasons the war ended the way it did.
“It was intentional.”
The alien stared at me, its reflective black eyes bigger than I’d ever seen them before. Creepy as all hell, that’s for sure. I’d rather not deal with these kinds of meetings in the future. Maybe after this I could negotiate for some kind of retirement.
I tapped my datapad and closed the gallery, then leaned back and tossed my feet on the table. May as well relax, I already knew how this was going to end.
“Because it rendered the enemy unable to use resources Sherman couldn’t keep. Computer, assemble and show video grouping: RTS Games”
A large grid of videos came up, showing a huge range of scenes. Largely battle, the settings varied from open space to deep ocean, from early history to the far “future.” Even battles across space and time could be seen.
“The translator can’t have gotten that right. Those are military tactical simulations. Higher level than anything I’ve ever seen or heard of.”
I laughed as I closed out all of the videos and turned back to the alien. Creepy and unsettling as it might be, I’m pretty sure I was terrifying the poor thing. Not that I really felt sorry for it. Not at all.
“No. They aren’t. Those are games. Toys. For. Fun. And they’re a couple hundred years out of date. From what I’ve seen, nearly every human capable of coherent speech is capable of tactically overwhelming your Federation. And since we’re already here, in space, it’s too late for you to say no. So, I’ll ask again:
The Chiron in Aries wound relates to your identity. Feeling like you are not worthy, that your qualities are not acknowledged and a fear that you have no value at all- all of these are indicators of an Aries Chiron. This is your silent wound: feeling unworthy and self-neglect, impotence of the self. This results in hypersensitivity to criticism, offended dignity and difficulty in asserting yourself. It also suggests physical abuse, wound, deformity and other issues.
The Chiron in Taurus wound relates to neglect. Feeling like you didn’t get enough of something (emotional, physical, material, mental, spiritual, etc), also expecting to receive more attention than you did, feeling unfulfilled and undernourished in some way- all of these are indicators of a Taurus Chiron. It all comes down to your sense of worth; a kind of void that won’t go away, and even if you try to fill it, you can’t as it seems like a dark hole. This is your silent wound: feeling neglected, in some way or another. Either because people don’t value you as much as you deserve to be; or because you’re expecting too much from them.
The Chiron in Gemini wound relates to a pain of doubting yourself, your ability to communicate clearly and feeling misunderstood. Feeling like you are not capable of speaking effectively, or that no one will listen to you or believe what you have to say- all of these are indicators of a Gemini Chiron. This is your silent wound. Even if you try to cover it up by emphasizing your mental capacities, you are very sensitive (psychologically) to what other people say.
The Chiron in Cancer wound relates to lack of nurture/ love. Feeling like you’ve been abandoned, or like you can’t form strong ties, personal protection and belonging issues, fearing challenges and seeking safety above all- these are indicators of a Cancer Chiron. It’s also very common for people with this placement to feel unworthy of love to some extent, and thus, always give more than what they get.
The Chiron in Leo wound relates to not being able to fully express the things that are within you. Feeling like people don’t give you the chance to shine, having a life that doesn’t stimulate your essence, not being able to feel joy at its fullest, not believing in your abilities, and not being recognized for your gifts and talents - all of these are indicators of a Leo Chiron. It all comes down to your self-expression; and this is your silent wound: lack of self-expression and hurting ego, in some way or another. Either because people don’t let you be yourself; they overlook your talents; or because you for some reason feel like you shouldn’t express yourself.
The Chiron in Virgo wound relates to compulsive behaviors fueled by perfectionism. Feeling like you can never do something perfectly, or that you are not good enough are indicators of this placement. It suggests anxiety, pressure and stress issues, uncontrollable urge to control everything around you/yourself as much as possible. Self-doubt is very common- you’re too critical at times. Your silent wound is the need to fix in order to make thing perfect.
The Chiron in Libra wound relates to hurtful relationships. Feeling like you trust the wrong people, getting hurt over and over, getting caught in a co-dependent relationship, unrequited love- all of these are indicators of a Libra Chiron. You may feel like people in general keep disappointing you, or maybe you feel like it’s you who are disappointing them. This is your silent wound: hurt when it comes to relationships. Either because they’re abusive or play with your feelings, or because they’ve made you cold and you don’t know how to trust anymore.
The Chiron in Scorpio wound relates to fear. It can have many manifestations, depending on which house it is placed: fear of loss, of the unknown, of persecution, confrontation, death or ever change. As Scorpio is also the sign of ‘power’, this position brings about many power issues, such as you being drawn to dangerous situations to feel empowered, or constant feeling like you’re out of control.
The Chiron in Sagittarius wound relates to feeling confined in a mundane existence. Wanting to break traditions or spiritual teachings, feeling like they have no deep wisdom, feeling like they can’t achieve glory, searching for the truth desperately - all of these are indicators of a Sagittarius Chiron. This is your silent wound: a desperate need to find meaning, in some way or another. It’s common for people with Chiron in Sagittarius to feel like they are an eagle inside, but are tied and cannot fly. There’s a lingering fear that you can never be glorious or live life like an adventure.
The Chiron in Capricorn wound relates to not being recognized. Feeling like you are not heard, that your efforts are not acknowledged and a fear that no one will listen to you and recognize your value- all of these are indicators of a Capricorn Chiron. It all comes down to how you’re seen regarding your potential. This is your silent wound: feeling underappreciated, in some way or another. Even if people recognize what you have to offer, in your own mind there’s always a deep-rooted fear of failing people, not doing your best at something or not succeeding, which would imply an identity crisis.
The Chiron in Aquarius wound relates to feeling different. Social rejection, fear of large groups of people, a need to withdraw from the public- all of these are indicators of an Aquarius Chiron. You may feel like you don’t belong, or you don’t share the same interests with the people around you, so you feel alone, isolated. This is your silent wound: not fitting in, somehow. Either because you’re disconnected from the world, or because you feel like the world disappoints you.
The Chiron in Pisces wound relates to the pain of disconnection. Feeling like you’re not “whole”, you’re not who you’re supposed to be, or that you can’t come to terms with higher forces or even with humanity in general- all of these are indicators of a Pisces Chiron. You can lack faith in yourself, in others and in the universe. You may feel like you can’t quite understand how the world works, like you know God works in mysterious ways but you can’t fully accept this. You don’t trust your ability to survive.
by crystal melbourne | within the zodiac | these are excerpts from my upcoming book. pre-order it via e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org
“People say, ‘She only got that [role] because of her mom.’ Yeah, yeah I did.” Lourd admits with sincerity, “But what would you have done if you got offered a role in Star Wars? Say ‘no?’ That’s even more pretentious.”
Here are my experiences with working with Aphrodite (specifically, although these can likely be applied to most, if not all deity) These are exclusively my own individual experiences and by no means the rules or structure.
✩ Your altar to her should reflect the type of beauty you wish to radiate, On my altar I have a statue of her sitting on a platform to help raise her as the focal point, surrounded with dried roses, honeysuckle, jasmine and hibiscus flowers. fresh flowers are fantastic but not always financially permitting, unless you grow them or have access to them I don’t believe it is essential to always have fresh flowers, however I will touch base on this later on. My altar also includes rose quartz chunks and various sea shells.
✩ I began my relationship with her the same as I would an acquaintance, I don’t believe you would ever approach someone in reality and immediately ask them for a favor without knowing them, the same goes for deity. You should build a relationship, shes an intelligent entity, she knows you want something from her so by making it clear from the get go, you will likely see better results (you scratch my back I scratch yours kind of logic)
✩ Sitting down in front of her altar and talking to her as if she was your friend really helps improve the relationship, sure it sounds crazy sitting in your room chatting to a statue or a photo of her, but this helps immensely. I would come home from a long day and chat for about 20 minutes - “I hope your day was well, I did this and that…”
✩ if you see a pretty flower or crystal whilst you are out and about, bring it home and set it out as an offering, stating that this is a gift for her. The same goes for lighting a candle, I would make an effort to at least twice a week set a candle on her altar and as I lit it, would announce “I light this candle in your honor”. The goal is to make her apart of your life as much as you can, within reason.
✩ Look for any signs, for example, recently I went for a walk up to the forest, which is known for its dense bush, with ferns and tall trees and lots of greenery, upon meditating I asked if she could send me a blessing, as I walked off I was inclined to leave the beaten path and explore the woods, I followed the deer tracks through the dense woods, and found, to my surprise 3-4 large pink rose bushes!
(the birds must’ve carried the seeds)
The love that was radiating from them made me feel incredible! This was my definite sign she was listening, as she is commonly associated with roses and they are never found in the wild where I live.
✩ If you notice things starting to go well in your life, in regards to feeling better about yourself, having more people look you over, improved relationships with loved ones or even more messages on the dating app you use, as opposed to normal. take it upon yourself to purchase fresh flowers, place in a vase on her altar as an offering of thanks, of course this can be costly, but I have noticed that if you practice the art of giving, especially with Aphrodite, you continue to gain her favor and hopefully a life long working relationship with her.
Aphrodite is an incredibly loving and forgiving energy, she is easy to work with so long as you show your thanks and trust her.
I hope this helps some people in where to start, there is no right or wrong way, and often just offering what you have will be enough. I wish you all the best of luck!
Someone out there is ready for exactly what you have got to offer. They will know how to appreciate you and reciprocate all that you give, but most importantly they will never try to undercut your value or question your worth. But in order to attract that person, you have to become that person. Focus on getting ready for your blessings and you will never have to worry about your burdens.
my good friend @lena221b recently reminded me of a series of drabbles i wrote in response to anon asks aaaaages ago. i couldn’t find the original posts (we’re talking years ago, that’s too much scrolling for one mortal girl) so i decided to lump them all together here. the following are a few short snippets of derek and stiles’ life together. in my head they’re all part of the same universe. enjoy!
“I dream about riding you sometimes.”
Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.
Stiles doesn’t seem to notice, just tries to roll himself back over. ‘Tries’ being the operative word, because he somehow manages to get himself tangled in his hoodie and then he’s just struggling on the ground with his head trapped in the sleeve.
Ordinarily Derek would help him, would feel guilty about dropping him in the first place, but right now he’s too preoccupied with choking on his own spit.
Stiles fights his way out of his clothing and gazes up at Derek.
“You’re so big though, I’m not even sure I could get my legs around you.”
Can werewolves go into cardiac arrest? Because it’s happening, Derek’s pretty sure it’s happening.
“And you’re so strong, too. I bet I could just climb up on there and you could keep going for hours.”
Stiles smacks his lips and wiggles on the forest floor and seems completely unconcerned with the way Derek’s world is rearranging itself around him.
“Such a scary wolfy,” Stiles mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. “You’re also really fluffy though.” He reaches out and starts patting Derek’s boot. “Preeeetty.”
Derek steps carefully away from Stiles and smashes his head into the nearest tree. A cut appears on his eyebrow and then heals before he’s even wiped the blood away. Because Stiles is talking about riding Derek in his wolf form. Like he’s some kind of glorified pony. And Derek is so pathetically gone on this boy that he’d let him. He’d growl and snarl and snap his jaws and then he’d get down on his haunches and carry Stiles wherever he wanted to go.
He’s absolutely, definitively not disappointed that Stiles isn’t talking about riding him in his human form because that would be gross and creepy and taking advantage of Stiles’ intoxicated state.
Right, Stiles, who is drunk, and burrowing into a pile of leaves.
Derek sighs at his life and stomps over to pick Stiles up again.
“Whoa, spinny!” Stiles shrieks and clutches at Derek’s collar. When he’s got his feet back under himself he looks around and frowns. “Nooo, no standing, it’s nap time.”
“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” Derek grumbles.
“Which is why it’s nap time,” Stiles insists, like it wasn’t his idea to get smashed in the woods in the middle of the night like an utter moron.
“You can sleep back at the loft, okay?” Derek bargains, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and hauling him forward.
“Mmm your bed,” Stiles groans, stuffing his face into Derek’s neck. “Been trying to get into your bed for months.”
Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.
The first time Stiles walks into Derek’s loft and finds him cooking he’s so stunned that he forgets to actually stop walking and crashes into a table.
Derek raises an eyebrow without looking away from where he’s blanching (blanching) vegetables. Once Stiles has stopped rolling around on the floor he uses two bar stools to pull himself right-side-up and brushes himself off as nonchalantly as he can manage.
“You cook?” he asks, trying his hardest not to appear incredulous, but Derek is wearing oven mitts so it’s not really going too well.
Derek levels him with his patented ‘why am I dating an idiot?’ look. It’s very, very flat.
“Yes, Stiles, I can cook,” he says, and pokes at something sizzling in a pan. Stiles boggles. Derek raises his other eyebrow this time. “Why is this shocking? You know I eat.”
“Well, yeah, objectively,” Stiles agrees. “I just always assumed you lived off a diet of Hot Pockets, squirrels, and the tears of your enemies.”
So very flat.
“Well, I’d hate to disappoint. I’ll throw this in the bin and then head out to rustle up some woodland creatures.” He goes to turn off the burner and Stiles dives across the kitchen.
"No, no, no. This is good. This is — What is this?” Stiles takes a whiff and just about hits the floor again. “Oh god, feed me.”
(Stiles can cook too, but his speciality is sweet things. Derek couldn’t bake a cake to save his life. They’re a match made in culinary heaven.)
"No,” Derek says sternly, giving Stiles everything his eyebrows have to offer. “Absolutely not.”
“What! Derek, come on, you know you want one,” Stiles wheedles, waggling his own eyebrows at Derek. He looks ridiculous and definitely not appealing.
“I have my hands full enough just trying to look after you.”
"Hey!” Stiles squawks. “I resent that! I am a fully functioning adult, thank you very much,” he says, puffing himself up.
All Derek has to do is glance pointedly at the thing curled up in Stiles’ arms and he puffs right back down again.
“I’ll keep her at my place! You won’t even know she’s there. I’ll take such good care of her, I swear.” Derek remains unmoved. Stiles pulls out the big guns. “Babe, please.” Damn him. “Just look at that face. You can’t say no to that face.”
The thing is, Derek is dangerously close to letting slip just how true that is. He’ll never be able to say no to Stiles. He might put up a token protest, but Derek knows that the second Stiles asks him for anything he’s already screwed.
And right now Stiles isn’t pulling his punches either. He’s got the big eyes and the pouty lips and his neck stretched out at the most perfect angle and Derek’s ready to fall to his knees and offer Stiles everything.
Except, what, no, not this time, Stiles is starting to make him legitimately insane.
“Who are you?! Hagrid?!” he exclaims. “Put the dragon down, Stiles.”
Stiles pulls this heartbroken face, and Derek is almost swayed except dragon.
“But she’s just a baby!” Stiles wails. “She doesn’t know how to look after herself.”
“She just singed off Scott’s eyebrows,” Derek says flatly. “I think she’ll be fine.”
(On the walk back to the Jeep Derek offers to buy Stiles a cat in place of the dragon, because they’re basically the same thing anyway and Derek is a sucker.)
“I told you not to do it,” Derek sing-songs, condescendingly, not even looking up from his book. The ass.
“No you didn’t,” Stiles moans from his place on the couch. He removes his arm from his face to glare weakly at said ass. “You said, ‘As if you’d ever get your nipple pierced’. Which was basically a direct challenge. Which means of course I did it.”
Derek doesn’t even stop reading to roll his eyes at Stiles. He just kind of widens them slightly with a long-suffering look on his face. The ass.
"This is entirely your fault,” Stiles whines. Derek doesn’t respond at all.
Stiles wriggles around making pitiful noises until Derek snaps his book shut with a growl. “What.”
“It hurts,” Stiles sniffles.
“Well that’s because you poked a piece of metal through your flesh,” Derek bitches, but he gets up and walks over to the couch anyway. He lifts Stiles’ legs and settles himself down, Stiles’ thighs splayed across his lap. Then he curls his hand around Stiles’ knee and begins leeching his pain.
“Better?” he asks, and Stiles hums in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut.
He’s just about to drop off the edge of consciousness when something hot and wet envelops his nipple. Stiles jerks violently and finds Derek staring up at him from his chest, eyes dancing. He grins wickedly and flicks his tongue against the bar and Stiles melts.
(Derek ends up loving Stiles’ nipple piercing. Stiles lords it over him for months until Derek comes home with a piercing in a much more sensitive place. Stiles’ mouth is busy doing other things after that.)
Derek went into this relationship with Stiles with his eyes wide open. Which basically meant he was expecting a lot of sex, because every second word out of the kid’s mouth was innuendo and he smelled constantly turned-on. And Stiles did not disappoint. There was a lot of sex. A lot.
Derek was not expecting the cuddling. But five months in Derek’s beginning to wonder if Stiles is actually a were-octopus and just hasn’t told him yet.
No matter how aggressively he spoons Stiles when they’re drifting off to sleep, he’ll always wake up buried under warm, clingy boy.
When Derek joined the Stilinski’s in visiting the Sheriff’s mother over Thanksgiving, he passed out alone on the couch and woke to Stiles wrapped around him, his face shoved under a throw pillow.
Stiles holds him in the shower, tucks Derek under his arm at pack movie nights, plasters himself to Derek’s back in the kitchen when he’s soft and tired-eyed.
The first time Stiles grabbed Derek’s hip and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder while they were both brushing their teeth Derek spent two whole minutes staring at him in the mirror. The first time. Now it feels weird whenever he’s not lopsided during his entire morning routine.
For years after Kate, Derek was uncomfortable being touched. Other people’s hands made his blood pump harder and his breathing turn shallower and his muscles coil up. Now, the safest he ever feels is when Stiles’ arms are snug around his heart.
Ah, the sugar baby allowance. Even the most experienced of us can find ourselves getting squeamish when it comes to talking money with a potential sugar daddy.
Here are our top 10 allowance tips to help you get what you want gracefully and effortlessly.
1. Get Comfortable Asking
The most important step to getting what you want is asking for it. We all know this, but hey, it can be so uncomfortable to ask for money.
If the thought of asking for what you want makes you a little queasy, take the time to make yourself comfortable with it before you begin talking allowance with potential sugar daddies.
We recommend this little exercise. Practice makes perfect, so rinse and repeat ’til you can state what you want without so much as an eyelid bat.
2. Allowance Après Date
This is such a simple, yet effective, means of negotiating allowance: Don’t discuss it on your first date with a potential sugar daddy. Concentrate all your first date efforts solely on impressing him wildly.
A genuine, interested sugar daddy will bring up the allowance on his own. If he mentions it during the date, take it as a sign that he’s definitely interested, smile and tell him that you’d like the first date to be focused on simply getting to know each other.
Suggest that if he’s interested in an arrangement with you, he could call you to talk about the allowance after the date.
This simple move immediately does a few things for you:
Sends the potential sugar daddy the message that you’re more interested in a suitable arrangement than money. And that little message also sends another message: that he cannot control you or gain your interest with his money alone. This makes it easier for you to discuss the terms of the relationship, set boundaries, and negotiate your allowance. Makes it clear that you are nowhere near desperate and while you are interested in him, not overly so. This lack of overt interest gives you more control of the sugar relationship from the get-go. Plus, utilizing this tip lets you take advantage of the next allowance tip…
3. Take Advantage of the Phone
Unless you’re really, really comfortable asking for what you want – you might prefer the distance of the telephone over a face-to-face discussion.
As they say, 93% of communication is non-verbal. If you’re not completely confident in what you’re asking for, the potential sugar daddy might be able to glean that through your expression, your hand gestures, your body language.
On the phone, however, all you need to control is your voice. Inject it with confidence and prepare to discuss allowance.
4. Know Your Options
Your sugar daddy might already have his preferences on how to give you your allowance, but it’s still a good idea to get to know your options.
How often do you want to receive your allowance? Weekly? Monthly?
How do you want to receive your allowance? Cash? Pre-paid credit card? Monthly bills paid? Read more about popular methods to receive a sugar baby allowance here.
There is no right or wrong answer to these questions – it’s just important that you know your options and go with what is most comfortable for you.
5. Do Your Research and Know His Range
Sugar daddies hail from various professions and income brackets. Before discussing allowance with your sugar daddy, do your part by researching what his range might be.
What’s the average income for someone in his profession in the city you’re living in? Is he an employee or does he own his own company? Does he have a family to support or is he single? Does he own his home or does he rent?
You can often find all this out by actively listening to the things he says as well as putting Google to good use.
Based on what you estimate to be his earning potential, you will know the reasonable range he can afford. Plus, you can weed out the men who are promising certain allowance amounts but clearly cannot afford it.
According to Seeking Arrangement, the average sugar daddy in 2013 earned a little over $270,000 and the average sugar baby allowance in 2013 was a little over $60,000. That comes to sugar daddies paying a little over 20% of their income toward their sugar babies (hey, we’re actually cheaper than US taxes). That’s a reasonable estimate of what you’re sugar daddy should be able to provide you and what you can expect from a sugar daddy.
Calculate his reasonable range and then negotiate.
6. Forget Ladies First
A genuine, interested sugar daddy will usually bring up the topic of allowance by asking you what you want.
If you’re not totally comfortable with stating your amount first, forget the whole “ladies first” thing and ask him for his range first (‘though you’ll already have an idea based on your research). The easiest way to do so is to approach the topic indirectly by asking if he’s had previous arrangements. Ask how they went, what the terms were, how the relationship was, and what the allowance arrangement had been.
If he hasn’t had previous arrangements, keep in mind that people are more inclined to answer an uncomfortable question after being asked a range of more comfortable questions so start out the discussion by asking your potential sugar daddy questions like, “What does your ideal arrangement look like?” “How often do you want to meet me?”Continue asking questions about the arrangement and then pop in the question of what allowance range he’d be comfortable with.
If he low-balls you, when you know his range can very reasonably be higher, rebut with something like, “Oh, I was thinking more like $x,xxx.”
7. A “Yes” is a Given
When negotiating allowance, assume that he’ll give it to you.
When he asks you for the allowance you want, tell him simply and matter-of-factly: “I’m thinking $x,xxx.”
Keep a smile on your face, maintain eye contact, and say it as naturally as you would tell him what you’re ordering off the menu. Your amount might seem high to you, but remember that SDs have probably heard it all: girls asking for $10,000+, cars, etc., so you reasonable allowance range is probably not that surprising.
Don’t low ball yourself. Ask for what you want.
8. Remember: You’re Just Getting Your Due
This is a key point that all sugar babies must remember at all times: Asking for allowance is NOT asking for a handout.
You’re negotiating an allowance for a number of services being rendered to your sugar daddy.
And sugar daddies may be a lot of things, but they are not financially stupid. Your potential sugar daddy is not giving you an allowance out of the kindness of his heart. He is getting something valuable out of it. He knows it. You should too.
You listen to him talk about work. You make him laugh. You remind him of his youth. You are there for him physically, emotionally, mentally. He’s not doing you a favor by giving you allowance – he’s reciprocating for how you make him feel. This is no small service – people spend the majority of their money to be made to feel a certain way. It’s a considerable service so don’t ever spend any of your energy feeling bad about asking for whatyou want.9. Your Allowance = Your Money
Some sugar daddies might express shock or surprise when you state your allowance range. Some will even ask you what you plan on doing with all that money, as if you need to justify your allowance to them.
You don’t have to.
An allowance is not a handout. You’ve earned it.
Can you imagine a potential employer asking you what you’re going to do with all that income you’re earning at their company? Of course not. That’d be preposterous – once the company pays you for your services, it’s your money. Not theirs.
Same thing with the sugar allowance. You don’t need to justify the amount you’re asking for. Don’t talk about your debt, your bills, etc. – there’s no need for all that. He’s asking you how much you require and that’s all you need to say.
If he asks – don’t tabulate anything, don’t justify anything. Say something simple and sensible like, “A girl’s gotta save, you know…” and end it with a smile.
In our experience, if a potential sugar daddy keeps on asking why you would needall that money – chances are, he’s not going to make a great sugar daddy to begin with as he simply doesn’t understand that by providing him a service, you have every right to spend the allowance that you earn any way you want.
10. Prepare to Say “Next”
Some sugar babies may disagree with us on this one, but we have this rule: If a potential sugar daddy does not agree to the allowance asked for (which is reasonable and within what we know is possible with his income range) – politely end the dinner and cross him off the potentials list.
In our experience, men who understand your value as a sugar baby are willing to pay for it. They know you’re worth it. They want what you have to offer. And like companies who want to recruit the best talent, these sugar daddies are prepared to give you what you’re asking for.
These men make better investments in the long run because they already know you’re worthwhile.
We don’t recommend ever begging or trying to convince any sugar daddy to give you what you want. If he doesn’t already see you as a worthwhile investment, he’s not going to be a great sugar daddy anyway.
And by settling for less than what you want – you’re not going to be happy enough to keep him happy. It’s a two-way street. Your needs must be met. The good sugar daddies know this. They show it by giving you what you want.
Bonus Tip: 11. There are Exceptions
At the same time, sometimes you’ll run into a potential sugar daddy who you have a great dynamic with…but he does not make enough to give you the ideal allowance.
In those cases, we’d say: go with the sugar daddy you like even if his allowance is a little bit lower than ideal. An enjoyable arrangement comes from more than just allowance.
She knows she has a lot of potential, but she can’t seem to express it and convince people of it. Newt sees all that potential in her. I think that’s a lot of what falling in love is. You feel someone else recognizing what you are, what you have to offer. - Katherine Waterston
The Virgin and The Sex God: Chapter One- Dean x Reader
The Virgin and The Sex God: Chapter One Summary: Dean finds out you’re a virgin and begins to try to charm his way into your pants. Little does he know he’s about to fall in love. Word Count: 2,227 Warnings: Potty mouth Dean. Potty Mouth Reader.
I’m so addicted to all the things you do When you’re rollin’ round with me in between the sheets Oh the sounds you make, with every breath you take It’s unlike anything, when you’re lovin’ me… From Addicted by Saving Abel
You made a noise through your nose and rolled your eyes hard as you watched Dean Winchester making a move a boozed up bimbo. The both of you had agreed to get some celebratory drinks together after a successful hunt. You had meet the Winchester brothers a few years ago and had occasionally hunted with them. Personally you were more of a solo hunter, but you made a few exceptions every now and then.
The Winchesters you had considered friends and you liked spending time with them. You groaned when the blonde woman giggled as Dean whispered something in her ear. The tightening in your stomach made you want to hurl your bottle at the pair.
It wasn’t that you were jealous of the woman- you knew what would come of her night. The walk of shame at six in the morning. You were jealous and angry of the idea that Dean would rather chat up a chick then spend time with his friend. You hadn’t seen him in over a year and this was how he was choosing to spend his time? Taking a chug of your beer, you climbed to your feet and stomped over to him.
Putting on your best dramatic face,with a few fake tears to boot, you began to yell at him for being an unfaithful bastard. Dean’s eyes lite up and his face flushed. The blonde looked on horrified as you proceeded to punch him in the arm.
“You bastard! A sick baby and wife at home! And this is where I find you! Cuddled up with some floozy?” You screeched as you gave him another whack for good measure.
“Wife? This is your wife?” The blonde managed to squeak out as she backed away from the two crazy people. She held up her hands as she did.
“What? No. I’m not married. She’s just my good friend.” Dean managed to get out before you whacked his arm again.
“Really? REALLY?! Ten years of marriage and a baby!! And I’m just your “good friend”?!” You wailed.
The blonde woman had enough at this point and ran the opposite direction from the pair of loons. Dean watched after her and turned to scowl at you. You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a hefty smirk.
“God Damn it, Y/N! That was a sure thing!” He barked as his scowl deepen. Your hands snapped to your hips as you leaned forward towards him. You matched his scowl perfectly before answering him.
“Serves you right for trying to abandon your friend for some one-night stand!” You hissed back as you pegged him the shoulder again. Dean grunted and reached up to rub the sore spot. You watched as his features soften as he thought about your words. His hand came out to rest on your shoulder and he gave it a squeeze.
“Yeah. I’m sorry sweetheart. I wasn’t thinking.” He sighed.
“Oh you were thinking alright…. Just not with the right head.” You said in a matter of fact tone. You gestured to his crotch for emphasis and Dean’s eyes flicker downward. You chuckled when his head snapped back up. He made a face and reached up to rub his neck. It looked like he wanted to make a come back but nothing was coming out.
“Yeah… Whatever…” He finally managed to get out and you were giggling again. Dean squinted his eyes at you and an unreadable emotion flashed in his eyes for a moment. You smiled at him and reached out to tug on his arm.
“Come on Winchester, you can make it up to me by buying me a drink or ten.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” He muttered as he started back towards the bar. You followed behind him giggling louder this time.
Dean sank down on a bar stool and motioned for the bar tender. You plopped down beside him and ordered a beer. He turned to you and as you brought the mouth of the bottle to your lips. As the bitter liquid passed down your throat, Dean’s eyes flashed with a dangerous thought.
“You know… You could always make up losing my booty call for me by going back to my room.” He said in a low grumble. His hand reaching over to touch your thigh. Your eyes widen as that damn tongue of his dragged itself across his bottom lip.
You made a choking noise as your beer went down the wrong pipe. Sputtering, you placed your drink on the bar top and grunted when Dean’s hand smacked you across the back. His dark chuckle caused your eyes to darken. Inhaling deeply, you turned to snarl at him.
“Public sexual harassment isn’t cute, Winchester.” You said in hoarse voice. Dean’s chuckled grew louder at your words and you rolled your eyes.
“What? Don’t want a chance to sleep with a bona fide sex god?” He said with a smirk so big you just wanted to snatch it off of him. This time your eyes rolled all the way into the back of your head.
“Oh shut up, Winchester. If I wanted an STD, I’d go to my local alleyway.” You grunted into your beer. Dean gave you a hard stare before pressing the issue.
“I’m being serious, Y/N. I’ve always thought that you were pretty. Why not give it a try? Ummmm. I’ll make it worth your while.” He said with a sincere look in his eyes.
You blanched at his words and shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Your eyes glazed over as a thousand and one thoughts ran through your head. You were certainly flattered that Dean thought your were pretty.
You hadn’t really heard him describe many woman as pretty. You bite your lip as something unfamiliar bubbled in your stomach. You hadn’t really thought of Dean in that way much. Though weren’t blind and you knew he was unmistakably gorgeous. There;however; were two reason that this wouldn’t go over well.
One- you were and wanted to continue to be good friends with the Winchesters. You liked them and most of all you trusted them. A rarity for you. Second and most pronouncing- you were still a virgin. What the hell would you have to offer a man, who by all accounts, was a sex god?
“Yeah… No thanks. Dean. I’m good.” You mumbled into your beer. Your eyes adverted to the other side of the bar when he pressed closer to you. Leaning over, Dean whispered in your ear.
“Haven’t you even thought of me before? I know I sure as hell have thought of you. Ever since that first hunt when you took out those three vamps all by your pretty little self.” He whispered hotly against your ear. You shuttered and nearly swallowed your tongue. This was quickly getting out of hand and not how you had pictured the night going. You never, in a million years, would have thought Dean would think of you in that way. Hell’s bells, you weren’t even sure you thought of him in that way.
Dean’s hand had now settled at the top of your thigh. He lightly ghosted over your clothed inner thigh and you had to suppress a moan. Your head began to feel swimmy as you subconsciously pressed yourself closer to him. A warm feeling spread from your stomach and down your thighs. Ok, so maybe you did think of him in that way. That still didn’t mean that you wanted to give it up to Dean Winchester- Mr. Womanizer himself. You flinched away from his touch and slid off the bar stool. Dean looked at you with a dark smirk on his lips.
“Suddenly so shy? What happen to that girl that was demanding my attention earlier?” He mused as he stood up and moved towards you. You gulped audibly when you found yourself pinned between him and the bar. Your hands went up and pressed themselves into his chest so that you could give yourself some room.
The scent of Dean filled your senses and his warm hard body pressed against yours in a way you had never experienced. Your whole body flushed as you tried to squirm away from him. You you could feel your heart skip a literal beat when you felt something hard pressed into your thigh. You squeaked when you realized that Dean was indeed very happy to see you.
“Deeannnn…..” You whined as you felt yourself becoming overheated. You shifted and squirmed underneath him. The sudden clearing of a throat brought you both back to your senses. Your head snapped to the side to find the old man bartender looking at the pair of you in disgruntlement.
“Take it outside you two.” He grunted in a low raspy voice. You blanched when you realized that the whole room was staring right at you. There was a groan of disappointment from a few of the patrons when Dean stepped away from you. Your face turned tomato red as your hands flew up to your face. You were going to kill him.
You heard Dean mumble something about, too damn cute, before he grabbed one of your hands. He was nearly dragging you through the bar door before he stopped just outside. His hand dug into his pockets for his keys and you had to look away. There was still a noticeable bulge in his pants.
Once the keys were in his hand, he proceeded to continue to drag you all the way to Baby. You were squealing again when his hand were suddenly digging into your hips and his weight shifting you into the side of the car. Your hand came up automatically to cover his mouth when you saw him bend down to kiss you. You shook your head wildly as he pulled away to look at you in bewilderment. He began to protest your lack of kissing but your voice ringing out cut him short.
“I’M A VIRGIN!” You squeaked out a few octaves higher than your natural voice. Dean’s eyes flew open at this revelation and you heard him say something. It muffled against the palm of your hand and you pulled away so that he could speak to you.
“What did you say?…” You asked shyly.
Your face was going to be permanently pink by the time this man got done with you. The biggest secret you had in your life had just been revealed to him and the six other drunks in the parking lot. You were mortified, turned on, and confused.
“I said, God damn. Just god damn.” He said with groan. His eyes looked like they had the devil himself dancing in them. You giggled nervously as you flatten yourself against Baby.
“So… Uhhh… Can you back down some…. I… uhhh.. You’re making me nervous.” Shuttered out as your hands once again went to his chest. His very firm chest.
Dean’s smirk was never bigger with those words as he pulled back from you. You let out a shaking sigh of relief and turned on your heels to put some distance between the two of you. You tried to ignore the discomfort that throbbed painfully between your legs.
Sometime later, you both sat in an uncomfortable silence as you drove back to the motel. Or at least for you it was. Dean was still smirking away and would chuckle every time he glanced your way. Finally, after the fourth time his chuckles began to get on your nerves.
“What?” You growled at him as your eyes threw daggers his way.
“Nothing…. It’s just I was wondering…. How did you make it to 28 and still manage to stay a virgin?” He said with a another chuckle. Your stare darken immediately. Was the asshole making fun of you? You swore that if he hadn’t been driving you would clock him in the jaw.
“Well not all of can be sluts Winchester. Or in your case a manwhore.” You jeered at him.
“Ouch… That one hurt.” He said with feigned hurt in his voice. “What I meant to say, even though I came off like a complete asshole is… How can someone as sweet, pretty, and caring as you still be a virgin?” He ask with the hint of an apology in his voice.
“Hoho, Flattery eh? Don’t think that’s gonna get you in my pants.” You said with a snort.
“Almost worked earlier.” He quipped. You rolled your eyes dramatically for the third time that night.
“Shut up. It did not.” You grumbled as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. You frown and huffed at him. He was chuckling again before you could blink.
“See, it’s that shit right there. How the hell has someone as cute as you not had a roll in the sheets?” He asked with a shake of his head. “What a waste…”
His eyes scanned your body and you felt yourself stiffen. Was he ogling you? Your eyebrow twitched a bit.
“I just never found a guy that I liked. At least not enough to go there….” You murmured lowly.
“Do you like me enough?” He asked in a husky whisper. His voice was even lower than it was naturally. A shiver ran through you and shook from the force of it.
The man was trying to kill you.
AN: So this is a smut series. Starting in the first few chapters. Not for kiddies. ;) Please know that I am going to be updating my other Dean series soon. Please forgive me for starting yet another story. LOL. Happy friday y’all!
People were interested in me doing a thing like this, so here we go! I figured I’d do a short little blurb about each writer, including one or two of my favorite works by them. So, in no real order (like, I literally randomized the list) here are some of the most talented people* whose art I’ve had the pleasure of reading:
*Please note that some of these people haven’t written for bellarke in a while! That doesn’t mean you should pester them about it! Appreciate the heck out of what they have written instead. Cool? Cool.
Maria’s written a good variety of longer and shorter fics, and each of them is excellent. (She’s also an amazing human/friend, but that’s more of a side perk.) She’s currently writing Things We Shouldn’t Do which is what everyone wants out of a multi-chap, fake-dating, actors AU. Or for something shorter, check out T.O.P. S.E.C.R.E.T. for some friends-with-benefits/feelings-reveal goodness. And maybe if she loves me she’ll finish Let’s Go to the Mall but it’s nbd.
I read The Squire (multi-chap, medieval AU) when I was pretty new to the fandom, and I’m still completely in awe of it. Steph’s also written a million other amazing bellarke fics, like this fluffy-af youtubers AU (and, recently, some fucking amazing Jyn/Cassian stuff, if you’re into that) so make sure to check out all of her incredible writing.
Chash has written a million and one amazing fics, so obvs read everything she’s written, but one of my particular faves is Some Cheese With That Whine. It gives me all the best-friends-to-lovers feelings. Amazing. Plus she likes all my posts when I’m flailing about ffx <3
Lana’s another one of those writers where I know I’ll like everything she publishes. She’s like, the queen a soulmate AU’s. Her most recent one is here–a cool iteration where you feel whatever pain your soulmate feels. As with all the other authors here, don’t forget to check out all her other stories!
I discovered Kacka this summer, and her stories saved me from boredom on the countless train rides I was taking across Europe. By which I mean you should just read through everything on her AO3 page, like I did. Everyone loves a good coffee-shop AU, right? Check out Got to Find Those Extra Cups to Fill. She’s a fantastic, inspiring writer and an even lovelier human being.
Bri’s another one of the authors I first read when I joined the fandom! She doesn’t write much bellarke anymore, but it’s all still up on her AO3 along with a ton of quality Jyn/Cassian fics, if that’s your jam!
Kayla’s the first person I ever considered my “favorite fanfic author” and the title still fits, even if I do have about a million “favorite” authors now. Full Circle is an older, post s2, fic of hers, but it’s undeniably still one of my faves. A more recent fave is: this is your heart (can you feel it). These are both canonverse, but she writes amazing modern AUs as well. <3
Is it getting old for me to keep saying I like everything insert-name-here writes?? I’d stop, except that it’s TRUE. Mel is fantastic. Her last installment in Good Times Gonna Come is so cute I can’t actually stand it. Something In The Air (That Night) is also super good. (She also writes Sethkate and Jyn/Cassian!)
(Okay I’m running out of time for these last few–gotta get to class–so I’ll just do one fic rec from each writer, BUT they’re all such fucking talented authors. Everything they write is amazing.)
OKAY PHEW. I think that’s everything. As a last note, don’t forget to appreciate your favorite authors! A comment or reblog here and there goes a long way. Kudos and likes are lovely, but not quite as tangible as comments and tags.