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lovecoatedwords · 2 days ago

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”Promised vows”

part two

featuring: poly marauders x reader (arranged marriage au) angsty but also fluff (later on)

a/n: hello lovely! I am so sorry for the wait, I had some imp exams so I couldn’t quite get the time to write but here it is! I wrote this in parts so it might feel a tad bit different but I am really happy with how this turned out.

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The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the tall windows,. You moved quietly, your steps very light on the floor, fearing being too loud would make you unwelcome.

The kitchen smelled like tea and toast and a life that didn’t include you.

James was already at the table, back straight, sleeves rolled up. There was something harsh about the way he read the morning papers—his eyes scanning the pages like they’d personally offended him. Across from him sat Remus, who seemed to be, half-asleep, whilst stirring his tea without drinking it. His book was open in front of him, unread.

Neither looked up when you entered.

No “Good morning.” No “Did you sleep well?” Not even your name.

There was a plate on the table. Toast. Eggs. Nothing fancy. Just… there. Waiting, ceremonious but no warmth or meaning behind.

You pulled out the chair slowly, wincing at the scrape of it. It being the loudest thing in the room. Still, they didn’t flinch. Just… kept on with their morning activities, on which you seemed to be unwelcome

You sat down. You tried to eat.

Your hands trembled a little. You blamed the cold.

Sirius wasn’t there.

You almost asked where he’d gone. Almost. But stopped yourself. It didn’t matter.

Maybe he’d left before you woke up. Maybe he’d gone to work. Maybe he’d left because being around you was too much. You seemed to think he was a bit more pettier than the others

You looked up at them, the men you were now married to. And it hurt.

Not because they were cruel. They weren’t.

They were just… Beautiful. Untouchable. Distant.

James’s jaw clenched as he flipped a page. Remus, stayed quiet but looked weary and tired, his hands trembling just a little when he reached for his tea.

You stared at them for too long.

And neither looked back.

They didn’t even notice.

You wondered what they saw when they looked at you—if they ever did. A burden? A duty? A girl too young, too soft, too in the way?

You swallowed hard around the lump in your throat and forced down a bite of toast.

It tasted like nothing.

Remus finally said something, voice low. “Sirius had to meet someone in the city. He’ll be back tonight.”

You nodded. You didn’t ask who. You didn’t ask if it had anything to do with you. You didn’t ask if they even cared that you were sitting here, trying not to cry into your breakfast.

The hours after breakfast stretch on like a second silence layered over the first. TheNo one speaks to you. No one checks on you. The men have disappeared into whatever quiet parts of the estate they belong to—and you to your room

By mid-afternoon, the ache in your stomach is sharp enough to be distracting. It isn’t hunger, not really. It’s the gnawing discomfort of not knowing where you are allowed to exist. Not knowing if you are even allowed to ask.

You wander into the kitchen slowly, cautiously, like a child entering a room not meant for them. The air smells faintly of cinnamon and old wood. Everything is spotless, in order. Lived in, but not by you. You pause near the counter, unsure what to do. The idea of opening the cupboards feels wrong. You don’t know if you are meant to cook your own meals or wait for someone to notice you. No one has said. No one has said anything.

You reach out to open a drawer, maybe find a plate—maybe just something to prove you can do something for yourself—but before your fingers can close around the handle, James’s voice cuts through the stillness.

“You’re hungry.”

He doesn’t look up from where he stands by the far counter. His tone is flat, disinterested, as if your hunger is just another point to account for. Nothing more.

You blink, startled. “I—yes.”

He reaches into the bowl beside him and picks up a pale red apple. Walks over to the drawer you haven’t opened, pulls it open with practiced ease, and retrieves a small paring knife. No words. No warmth. He places both in front of you—apple, then knife—then steps back, as if the exchange has ended.

You hesitate. The knife looks too sharp. Or maybe it’s just your hands that feel too clumsy, too unsure. You pick it up anyway, trying to steady yourself, willing the trembling in your fingers to stop. It’s just an apple. Just a knife.

You press the blade to the fruit, trying to slice it the way you remember your mother doing. Your hand slips. The knife catches the edge of your palm, a clean, sudden sting. Blood wells up instantly, bright against your skin. You gasp and drop the knife. It clatters to the floor.

James turns toward you fully then, eyes catching the red spreading across your hand. “For fuck’s sake,” he snaps, voice sharp with something between disbelief and frustration. “You can’t even cut a piece of fruit properly?”

You flinch. The words hit harder than they should have, not because of what he said, but how he said it. Like it is proof of something he’s already decided about you. Useless. Helpless. A burden.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, not looking at him. The apology slips out too easily. Too naturally.

James stares at you for a moment longer, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling in silent aggravation. Then he crosses the space between you quickly and grabs a kitchen towel. He takes your hand—too roughly at first, then adjusts his grip, as if catching himself—and presses the cloth against the cut.

You don’t move. Don’t breathe. Just stand there and let him wrap the cloth around your hand, your eyes fixed somewhere over his shoulder. His hands are warm. Steady. You hate that your chest aches from the contact.

“You’ll bruise if you grip the blade like that,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

“I know,” you whisper.

James says nothing. Just ties the towel a little tighter, then steps back like the wound is fixed, like the moment is over. But your heart is still stinging, your eyes hot with tears you refuse to shed in front of him.

“I’ll… clean it up,” you say, voice trembling.

“Don’t bother,” James replies, already turning away. “It’s just a mess.”

He doesn’t say if he means the fruit. Or the blood. Or you.

You stand there long after he leaves, the apple untouched, the knife still on the floor. The towel around your hand is damp with blood. The cut has stopped bleeding hours ago. The towel is still wrapped tight around your hand, too tight now, the fabric stiff with dried blood. It throbs, but you don’t care. Not about the cut. Not about the ache.

Eventually, you end up in the library. The one room that doesn’t feel cold. You sit on the floor near one of the tall windows, back against the wall, knees pulled to your chest. The bandaged hand tucked against your side.

You haven’t meant to cry. The first tear slips out quietly. Then another. Until it turns into silent shaking, your breath catching in your throat. You press your uninjured hand to your mouth to muffle the sound.

That is where James finds you. He has something in his hand—a roll of proper gauze, antiseptic, tape. He stops in the doorway when he sees you. You don’t see him at first, but the sudden shift in the air makes you glance up, your eyes red, face blotched with the kind of crying that doesn’t ask for comfort.

James stares at you for a long moment. Not moving. Not speaking. Just watching.

Your voice cracks. “I’m fine.”

It is a lie and you both know it.

James steps in anyway, crossing the room in a few long strides. He kneels in front of you—not graceful, just efficient—and holds out his hand, palm up. “Let me see,” he says, quieter this time. “The bandage.”

You don’t move at first. Then, slowly, you uncurl your hand from where you’ve been hiding it, letting him take it. He unwraps the towel with a sharpness that doesn’t match the gentleness in his touch. The cut is red and angry now, a line of dried blood across your palm. He doesn’t say anything, but you see his jaw tighten when he sees how the fabric has rubbed raw against your skin.

“You should’ve changed it earlier,” he mutters, almost scolding.

“I didn’t know if I was allowed,” you say softly, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

That makes him pause. His hands freeze over the roll of gauze. His eyes lift to yours. “Allowed?”

You look down. “You didn’t… say anything. I didn’t want to bother anyone.”

There is something in his face that flickers—just for a second. Regret, maybe. Or guilt. But it is gone too fast to name.

He goes back to wrapping your hand, more careful this time. Slower. Like he doesn’t want to hurt you again. But the silence between you grows thick. And when you sniffle, trying to hide the last of your tears, he lets out a breath.

“You shouldn’t think this too much ,” he says, voice low, gruff.

You blink at him, startled. His eyes don’t meet yours. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

The honesty of it stings more than the words. But there is no cruelty in his tone—just exhaustion. Like your tears cracked something in him that he didn’t have the tools to fix.

You want to apologize. But you don’t. Instead, you say, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

He finishes tying the bandage and finally looks at you. “I almost didn’t.” Then, softer—barely audible: “But you shouldn’t have had to ask.”

And just like that, he stands up, collects the leftover supplies, and leaves the room.

You stay in the library, where at least the shadows are honest. You don’t cry again. You just stare out the tall window, watching the gray sky press down on the trees.

It is nearly evening when you hear the front door open. Voices follow—deep, warm, familiar. Laughter. Your heart stills. Footsteps echo down the hall, boots against stone. You recognize them immediately. Sirius. Then James’s voice, relaxed in a way it hasn’t been all day. And Remus’s low hum of amusement. The air shifts as they enter the main room across the hall. For once, the house doesn’t feel empty. Just full of something you aren’t part of.

You don’t move. But you listen. The sound of Sirius’s voice is louder now, full of warmth. “Missed you two,” he says, with a grin you can hear in the words. There is a soft, familiar sound. The wet press of a kiss. Then another. Your chest tightens. You don’t need to see it. You can feel it—but you don’t get any of it,

Another voice—Remus, laughing under his breath. “You’re late.” And Sirius’s answer, low and teasing: “You love me late.” Another kiss. Louder. Careless. Warm. You haven’t even realized you are standing until your shoulder brushes the edge of the doorway.

Sirius sees you first. He is still smiling when he looks over. Still flushed with wind and happiness, his hair messy from the cold outside. He looks like everything the house has been missing. Until he sees you. The smile falters—just barely. But you see it. The drop in warmth. The pause. His eyes flick to the bandage on your hand. A beat passes. He doesn’t say anything. No “What happened?” No “Are you okay?” No “I’m sorry.” Just a glance. Just a hesitation. Then he looks back to James, his hand still resting on Remus’s waist. And you are nothing again. Not a wife. Not a part of them. Just something in the background that doesn’t fit the picture.

You turn before anyone can speak. You don’t hear Sirius call after you. Because he doesn’t. You don’t run. That would’ve made it dramatic. Instead, you wallk with your bandaged hand tucked against your chest like something shameful. Like something broken. You don’t know where you are going. Just that you can’t stay there. Can’t stand the sight of warmth that doesn’t reach you. Kisses exchanged like stuff you’ll never be trusted with. Laughter you can’t translate.

Eventually, you end up in a room you haven’t been in before. The door is cracked, so you let yourself slip inside, small and quiet. It is a guest room. Bare. Undisturbed. The kind of room no one lives in. You like it for that. There is a chair by the window, worn at the edges. You sit in it, legs pulled to your chest, forehead resting against the cold glass. The garden outside is gray with frost. Empty trees. Wilted hedges. It matches how you feel—half-alive, barely holding on, trying to find beauty in being left behind.

You don’t cry. Not this time. You just sit there, still and small, trying to pretend you don’t feel like an intruder in your own life. You hear the door open behind you nearly an hour later. Light steps. Remus. He doesn’t speak. Not right away. Just stands in the doorway like he isn’t sure if he should come in. Like he isn’t sure if you want to be found.

“You always sit like that when you’re trying not to feel something.”

Your eyes flick toward him, tired. “You don’t know how I sit.”

He gives a soft, almost-sad smile. “I notice more than you think.”

You don’t reply. He crosses the room, slow and deliberate, and sits on the edge of the bed—not too close. Just… there. Near enough to reach you if you ask. Far enough not to assume you would.

“I saw Sirius,” he says gently. “Saw you leave.”

You nod once, gaze still on the frozen garden. “He looked so happy.”

Remus doesn’t answer that. Because you both know it is true.

“He kissed you,” you add after a moment, the words tasting like ash.

“He always does when he comes home.”

Your lips curve—not quite a smile. “I wouldn’t know.”

Silence settles again, heavy and understanding.

“You’re not angry,” he says finally.

You shake your head. “I’m not allowed to be, am I?”

That stops him. His hands fold in his lap. His voice is softer now, more cautious. “You think we don’t see you.”

You don’t answer. Remus looks at you—really looks. “You think we’re built for three. But not four.”

Your breath catches. He leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees. “We didn’t expect this. Any of it. We didn’t know how to fit someone else into something we thought was finished.”

You turn to him, eyes wide, voice cracked. “Then why marry me?”

He doesn’t flinch.

“Because you were worth saving,” he says simply. “Even if we didn’t know how to love you yet.”

Yet. That word sits in the air between you, fragile and terrifying. Your voice trembles. “You’re all so close. You know how to hold each other. You speak in glances. I don’t even know where I’m supposed to stand.”

Remus’s brow furrows, the pain in your words hitting somewhere deep in him. “Then we’ll learn,” he says, barely a whisper. “Where to make space. Give us time?”

You look down at your hand, freshly bandaged, still stinging. Remus reaches forward, slowly, and brushes his fingers over yours.

“I’m sorry James snapped at you,” he says gently. “He doesn’t mean to hurt. He just… forgets that silence is its own kind of cruelty.”

Your throat tightens. You don’t pull away. Remus doesn’t leave you that night. He doesn’t say anything grand or dramatic. He just stays in that bare guest room with you, sitting beside the window until your body slumps forward and sleep takes you under, bone-tired and emotionally wrung dry.

When you wake the next morning, your hand still hurts—but there is fresh gauze on it. And a cup of tea, still warm, resting on the nightstand. He hasn’t stayed in the bed. But he’s brought you quiet.

Days pass. Nothing shifts with James or Sirius. James still greets you with nods, never warmth. Speaks to you only when necessary, his words clipped, efficient. Always polite. Never soft. Sirius… Sirius is worse. He laughs with Remus and James. Slung arms around their shoulders, kissed their temples when he came in from long nights away. His smile returned the moment you left the room.

But Remus—he notices. He starts small. On the fourth morning, you find a second mug waiting beside his in the kitchen, steam curling from it like a quiet offering. He doesn’t say it is for you. He doesn’t have to. You understand and just nod appreciatively

On the seventh night, when Sirius and James have gone to bed without a word, you find Remus still in the library, half-asleep in an armchair, a blanket folded on the cushion beside him. No question. Just room.

By the end of the second week, he is waiting for you to sit at the breakfast table before starting his meal. He doesn’t announce it. He just makes space. And that is the first time in this house you don’t feel like furniture.

One afternoon, you find yourself in the garden. The cold has softened a little, enough for bare fingers. You kneel by the dead lavender, running your unbandaged hand along the brittle stems, half-remembering the way your mother used to braid them into ribbon when the summers were long.

You hear footsteps crunch behind you and don’t look up. You already know who it is. Remus crouches beside you, not touching,

“You used to like flowers,” he says, more observation than question.

You nod, fingers brushing one of the shriveled stalks. “My mother did. I think I liked them because she made them feel important.”

Remus is quiet for a moment. “Do you want to plant something new?”

You blink. “I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to decide now.”

You turn to him, finally meeting his gaze. There is no pity in his eyes. No sadness. Just presence.

“Do you always make room for people like this?” you ask softly.

He gives a small, tired smile. “Only the ones no one else knows what to do with.”

That makes you laugh, a small sound, startled out of your chest. It is the first time it doesn’t feel wrong to laugh here.

That night, you sit at the dinner table while James and Sirius discuss a meeting you haven’t been told about. James barely glances at you. Sirius doesn’t look at you at all. But when Remus passes you the bread, he does it without looking away from you. Not rushed. Not embarrassed. Just sure. a small smile showing peace and somewhat warmth.

Like maybe you aren’t an afterthough. Like maybe you could belong.

You casually strolled through the house after dinner, You hadn’t meant to walk past their study. Hadn’t meant to stop, either. But you did. The door wasn’t closed all the way. A sliver of light spilled out, golden across the stone floor. Voices followed. James’s laugh—low and rare, but unmistakable. Sirius’s louder, brash and bright, the kind of sound that used to fill entire rooms in the stories your father once told. And Remus’s, softer, trailing in after the other two like a breeze behind a storm. They were talking about something stupid. Some joke from years ago. Some memory you weren’t a part of. Their voices tangled like a language you didn’t speak. It was warm in there. Safe. Theirs. You stood outside the door and listened for exactly six seconds. That was all you let yourself have. You didn’t wait for silence. Didn’t risk being seen. Just turned, quietly, and walked away.

Remus noticed when you weren’t at the table the next night night. He noticed the untouched tea in the kitchen. The room that should’ve held you left gently cracked, but empty. He found you in the old sitting room on the first floor. The one no one really used. You were curled on the far end of the couch, arms wrapped around your knees, a blanket clutched too tightly in your fingers like it could hold you together. You didn’t look up when he entered. Maybe you didn’t hear him. He said nothing. Just walked over to the old bookshelf, browsed for a moment, then pulled down a worn hardcover, its spine cracked from years of quiet hands. He didn’t ask if he could sit. Just settled into the chair across from you. Let the silence breathe. Then opened the book. His voice broke the stillness gently, like someone stepping into a room they didn’t want to disturb. “‘It was the best of times but it was the worst of times…’” He didn’t rush. Didn’t look at you while he read. Just let the words fill the space between you.

You blinked slowly, watching the firelight dance along the edges of his face. The way his voice dipped and rose, not for drama, but for rhythm. Steady. Soft. Safe. After a while, you shifted. Loosened your grip on the blanket. Let your knees fall to the side. And you listened. Not because you liked the story. But because someone had chosen to share it with you. And that was enough.

You’d stopped pretending to follow the plot five pages ago. Your head rested lightly against the back of the couch, lashes growing heavier by the minute. Every few seconds your eyes fluttered shut, just for a moment. Remus didn’t seem to mind. He kept reading, voice soft, unrushed. The cadence steady, anchoring. Maybe he knew you were drifting. Maybe that’s why he kept going. Your body eased. And for the first time since the ceremony, you began to fall asleep without fear.

Then the door opened. Not loudly. No slam. Just the subtle sound of hinges and presence. Remus’s voice faltered, caught mid-sentence. He looked up. You didn’t. But you felt it. The air changed.

Sirius stood in the doorway, shadow outlined in firelight. He didn’t look at you. Not once. His eyes were only for Remus. There was no anger in his face. No jealousy. Just something tight behind the eyes, like he’d swallowed something bitter and was still deciding whether to spit it out. Remus didn’t move at first. But Sirius tilted his head—barely a motion, nothing more than a flick. Come. A silent command. Not cruel. Not kind. Just final. Remus hesitated. Then he closed the book. You felt it—your body twitched faintly at the sound. Your hand shifted beneath the blanket, just barely reaching toward where the warmth had been. He stood, slow, reluctant. You didn’t open your eyes. Maybe you were asleep. Maybe you were pretending. It didn’t matter.

Because Sirius still didn’t look at you. Didn’t say a word. Just turned, and left the door open behind them as he led Remus away. Like it was warning you: Don’t get comfortable.

A/n: hehe i think i did a good job at giving comfort in this part but then giving it An angsty end 😈 also if this seems a bit off track it’s because i wrote it with too many breaks in between :/ (exams )

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if you wanna be tagged, send in an ask or comment! If you have ideas for next or any feedback, my inbox is open :)

Btw: this is an ongoing request game I have going on rn! Feel free to check it out.

#remus lupin x reader #james x sirius #marauder #james potter x you #poly marauders x you #remus lupin #poly marauders x reader #james potter x y/n #sirius x reader #james x reader #poly marauders x y/n #poly marauders #poly marauders x reader angst #Angst #poly marauders x reader arranged marriage #arranged marriage au #promised vows

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astrolook · 2 days ago

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💬🌟 Talking Planets: How Your Synastry Speaks Volumes 🗣️💞

Note: These are all based on my personal observations and patterns I’ve noticed over the years. Western astrology based. Let me know in the comments if any of this hits home for you! And feel free to leave what doesn’t resonate.

Synastry placements in the 8th or 12th are my least favorite. First off, the 8th house is not just about sex, and honestly, it’s overrated. The 8th house is about what the house person can offer like sex, resources, finances, or all of it. Not just sex. I don't agree with astrologers who's like "Mars/Venus/Sun in 8th house overlay?, Wow! It's intense, karmic bond...bla..bla..bla" or some $#!T.

Most 8th house synastry I’ve seen is either one-sided, purely sexual, or has that gold digger vibe. The planet person usually wants something from the house person.

12th house overlays are heavily one-sided too. If it’s mutual, kind of like the 8th house, it can get toxic fast. If I’m really looking for intimacy, I’d check the 2nd,4th, 5th, or 7th house overlays.

8th and 12th house placements, in both synastry and composite, usually show up in hot, chaotic relationships that burn out pretty soon. These overlays are also common in gold digger setups, sugar mommy/daddy situations, "convenience" relationships, marrying for money and all that. Both 8th and 12th is not SOULMATE BOND.

Now with the aspects, personally, I don’t consider synastry aspects with more than a 3° orb. It’s just not as effective, at least from what I’ve seen over the years. Anything under 3° really shows up in real life, good or bad.

Also, conjunctions are seriously overrated when it comes to relationships, yes but it also point to no growth and stuck in the same place but when it comes to family members, friendships, etc conjunctions are great aspects to have and trines too. But what I’ve noticed is, people who had a lot of trines and squares in their synastry ended up having relationships or marriages that were not only successful, but also exciting, balanced, and helped both people grow individually. Like real soul growth.

And let’s be clear, just because you have something like Venus square Ascendant in synastry doesn’t mean the other person finds you unattractive or ugly. People always try to oversimplify these things.

Every aspect, overlay, or placement whether it’s in synastry, composite, or natal has multiple interpretations. It might resonate, or it might not. But there are so many layers. Am seeing often that Venus square ASC interpreted as Venus finding the ASC ugly / unattractive or aren't their type. Nope, there's more to that.

Like, Venus square Ascendant could mean:

Venus finds you attractive, but your style or habits are a bit off to them but they’re still into you anyway.

They’re genuinely not attracted to you, and that’s just what it is and it's the most common interpretation I have seen out there..

Venus is like, “You’re not even my type, but I don’t know why I’m into you... but here I am.”

Venus feels insecure around you, thinks you’re out of their league and doesn't know how to approach you and fear of rejection too..

Venus is intrigued because you’re totally different from the people they’ve dated before.

Venus finds you exotic or intimidating maybe you’re from a different background, or just someone they never imagined being into, but they are. Like a forbidden, unreachable kind of thing.

Do you see the difference now? It’s never just one meaning. Astrology is like peeling an onion. The more you peel the deeper you get.

Signs work in a way that’s way more straightforward than people think. If you’re a Gemini Moon, you’re gonna naturally vibe with other Gemini Moons, Suns, Venuses, or Mars placements, no matter where they fall in the chart. It just clicks.

Take my earlier example about Venus square Ascendant and if Venus is in the 8th house in Gemini squaring your Ascendant in Virgo, that can actually get along pretty well. Venus might see the Ascendant as a sexy librarian they’d wanna go out with and Venus be like "I kinda feel insecured but damn she/he is sexy, would they even look at me?". Totally different from Venus in the 8th house in Capricorn squaring an Ascendant in Aries. In that case, Venus in Capricorn would find the Aries Ascendant super exotic and alluring, but also probably a bit intimidating. It’s not as comfortably aligned as the Gemini example as it’s more of an intense, magnetic attraction. Venus is like, “I can’t explain it, but I’m drawn to you.”

So, signs matter just as much as the placements. The vibe changes completely depending on the sign involved. This is how I read synastry.

Aspects don't exist in a vacuum.

When reading a synastry overlay or aspect, even in natal, we have to look at where the planet is actually falling. For example, going back to my earlier point about Venus square Ascendant, the surface-level aspect alone doesn’t tell the full story. Venus square Asc in general is one thing, but Venus in the 8th house squaring Asc in Libra is a completely different vibe than Venus in the 8th squaring Asc in Capricorn.

That placement matters.

When I’m reading synastry, composite, or natal charts, I always look at where the planets are and what house they’re in when I’m reading aspects. Like, instead of just saying “your Venus conjunct their Saturn,” I look at where that conjunction is happening. Because Venus conjunct Saturn in the 1st, 2nd, 5th or 11th house is not the same as Venus conjunct Saturn in the 8th or 12th.

If it’s happening in the 8th or 12th… yeah, no thanks. See you next lifetime. But if it’s in houses like the 1st, 2nd, 5th, 7th or 11th or something with more grounding or shared values, there’s actually potential there.

It’s not just what aspect you have, it’s where it lands. That’s what really gives the context.

Also, reading synastry like “Sun in 1st house overlay” isn’t enough. That’s just the general version and it’s honestly basic like a default theme on your phone. I’ve already made posts on Moon and Sun house overlays, but if you really want to understand how it actually plays out in your chart, you have to look deeper.

Like, instead of just saying “your Sun is in their 1st house,” it should be “your Sun in 1st house Gemini falls on their 9th house Gemini.” That’s how I read synastry. That’s when the picture becomes clear. You’ll actually start to see what’s going on between two people, instead of guessing based on default interpretations.

It makes interpreting way easier too. Those general meanings might or might not resonate, but when you look at both people's chart placements like that, it hits. It’ll either confirm things or call you or your partner out on stuff that’s hidden or not being talked about. That’s the kind of synastry reading that actually tells the truth.

Also, if there are too many Moon aspects or Venus aspects to the partner, but the other person doesn’t have as many Venus/Moon aspects back to yours, it could be a sign of unrequited love or just a crush that’s not going to really develop into something deeper. It’s a one-sided vibe, and those rarely turn into anything long-term or fulfilling.

Similarly, if there are a lot of Sun aspects to the other person’s chart, it means the Sun person’s identity is probably way too tied to the other person’s validation. Over time, this can lead to some unhealthy dynamics where the Sun person becomes codependent, constantly needing the other person’s approval to feel good about themselves. It’s all about balance, otherwise it’s a recipe for emotional burnout and codependent behavior.

So, that’s all for today, go away now! ✌️😎🌙

Wanna go deeper into the layers of your placements? DM me for a complete astrology reading or a 5 year/8 year marriage report or synastry reading🌙💬 and check out my pinned post for pricing + details 💫💸

Let’s decode your cosmic chaos together ⭐

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campwillowpeakvn · 3 days ago

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Regarding Lily

Because it seems this isn't dying down and I'm a big octopus who puts my pants on one tentacle at a time, I'm gonna say my peace and give my apologies where they're due

Firstly, let me say I am no longer associated with Lily. Full stop. Aside from a comm I plan on refunding them when I have the means to do so.

And after being brought screenshots and hearing first hand testimonials of their repeated behavior and poor treatment of others, as well as my own growing issues, I no longer in good conscious can continue to do so

After looking at the whole picture and looking back on past actions I came to the realization that not only had I been manipulated through tactics such as love bombing, but I had been drug into dramas I wasn't even a part of on several instances, wound up, and used as an attack dog because yes. I am very loud, very opinionated, and have little filter and poor impulse control, especially when heated. Sorry but when I see 'Bring it to Ziggy' in things I'm not even a part of?... Yeah... Added to that are times where I've been left feeling used for both my blog/game's following.

Does that wash me clean of all responsibility? Absolutely not. I am a grown adult and at the end of the day my actions are my own, but that doesn't excuse outside factors that played a role either

On that note I would like to apologize to Saint and co. for the shit show that happened last year. Do I think they all are free from fault? No. The ball was still dropped on a few things, and admittedly on both sides, but at the same time it was drug WAY too far and for WAY too long and that should not have happened. I had no part in things like the doxxing and death threats and COMPLETELY disavow that shit. Did I talk shit and vent in private? Yes. Everyone has the right to vent in secure PRIVATE spaces. But everything else? That was fucked

So yes, Saint, I am sorry. I'm a big girl who can own up and give apologies where they're due. At the end of the day, we're all human, and mistakes were made

But yeah, I can't speak on what my friends went through personally with Lily cause those are their stories to share. But thats why I'm no longer associating with Lily and I hope that at the very least people can respect that and not send asks in regarding the situation or people involved

Thank you, Ziggy

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kk-iki · 18 hours ago

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it's been a long time coming, but. . .

enough is enough. i think i've moved in relative silence when it comes to some of the more odd things that occur in this fandom, but one instance in particular is giving me pause. this honestly feels like something better suited for a substack essay, but i'll hold off on that since i think everyone in this specific sub - tumblr ( ? ) should hear this first.

i feel like so much of the call of duty fandom is trapped in a constant woman - hating epidemic.

and i don't just mean 'oh, there's barely any female character x reader content, there's nothing for the girls who like girls'. that's an entirely different issue i may or may not bring up later.

i'm talking about how a good majority of the writing i read in this fandom is so geared towards men. and i don't mean that there's a surplus of male reader content, because there really isn't. i mean that there's so many fics i read that are drenched in the light of 'doe - eyed, pouty, submissive woman who is always eager to please her man, and the idea that the man may be eager to please her in return is such an incredibly radical concept'.

i click on any 'x reader' tag in this fandom, and i'm met with a tidal wave of two specific archetypes;

the doe - eyed, pouty, submissive fem reader who is always eager to please her man and gets off on him essentially treating her like property, or. . .

a reader who has no character. no structure. no personality. a reader who is meant to be vague enough to where the actual reader can neatly insert themselves into their shoes, but at the cost of any innate substance or realness. a reader who is essentially just a placeholder in words.

somehow, inexplicably, it's more often than not the first.

write and read for this fandom long enough, and you'll see what i see in droves. the attention that is lavished on writing within this fandom is relegated to the specific archetype of the tradwife who knows nothing but to cook for her husband and be a willing conduit for his post - deployment stress relief.

and what truly infuriates me the most is that it will be these kinds of writers who are so adamantly against the idea of tradwives. yes, you say you're against it, but can your words hold up when your writing is essentially tradwife propaganda in disguise?

and it just irks me so badly when these mentalities infiltrate the characters themselves. today's specific instance of this was when i was scrolling through the könig x reader tag and i came across this one headcanon list that advertised itself as "loser!könig". nothing innately malicious, of course, but then i saw the tags.

'but also, he's a sucker for the wife, which makes him a loser. say it with me now.'

i want to make it known that i mean no ill intent towards the original author of this specific headcanon list. i don't want any vitriol to be directed at them because i'm speaking my mind about this fandom as a whole. it most likely was meant to be an affectionate, "haha, he's such a malewife loser"-esque endearment. but this set of tags just. . .baffled me.

. . .because when did it become loser - like or a loser - adjacent trait to be a sucker for your wife?

this isn't even the first instance of this. i've seen it before, the way this fandom—sometimes subtly, sometimes unintentionally—pushes this narrative that has been setting us back decades. the idea that there is not only a beauty standard that women must live up to in order to be considered desirable by men, but there is also a mentality that a woman must have in addition.

there's another fic that i read, a 141 x reader one if memory serves me correctly. it featured a reader who was insecure about her appearance, which is absolutely nothing to frown upon. what startled me, though, was the fact that the author themselves referred to the reader as 'ugly'.

the reader is a single mother. she is stated in the fic to have love handles, breakouts, and a thick waist. she has messy hair and wears baggy clothes and has dark undereye circles. she required the love and special attention of four conventionally attractive men who moved in next door in order to feel beautiful.

she is said, by the author in the precluding note, to be meant as a way to 'show some love to readers who feel ugly, instead of petite girly readers'.

as if people with these traits should feel ugly. as if people with these traits cannot be girly.

i understand i may be reading too much into this. i may be making a mountain out of a molehill. but i'm angry about this and this is my blog and you've read this far, so clearly you want to see where this goes.

and this is where it's going.

i spoke about this briefly in a server i'm in and am extremely fond of—shoutout to the shitheads.

i said, quote: "are you nothing but a slave to the whims of a patriarchal society’s dictation on how someone must present in order to be considered desirable? or are you willingly feeding into this at the risk of the self image of so many beautiful people who cannot recognize their own enchanting presences because of people like you howling at them in your sweetest voice that they are anything but?"

i also said: "have you considered the reason for that might be because she’s a recluse and doesn’t go outside apart from making sure her child is getting sufficient vitamin d and is thus making assumptions about what people will think of her on the basis of one bad man’s words to her?"

maybe she doesn't feel ugly because you think the traits she has are ugly. maybe she feels ugly because she doesn't socialize. maybe, instead of just leaving that in the subtext, you should have started with that.

the writer, if i recall correctly, was a woman. by the way. which makes this worse.

it is so difficult for me to understand how the women in this fandom can be so cruel to each other, even implicitly. from the way we're written in reader - insert fics to how we react to each others' ocs and creations. . .it's just so disheartening.

more than anything, it makes me wonder how someone like me—a lesbian who exclusively writes women for women and tries to veer away from the reader and the character falling into any one archetype—is going to find any sort of platform in this fandom.

the bottom line is that there is so much casual misogyny in this fandom. frankly, i'm a little sick of it.

one might think i'm making a big deal out of this. i know. i'm being a killjoy, i'm being a hater, i won't let anyone have any fun. but we need to remember a couple of key points here:

art is always political because there is no way to create something without a modicum of bias.

the politics promoted by the art in this fandom—specifically, the writing—are pushing an agenda that has been consistently used to strip women of their rights and needs for decades.

most of these writers are women themselves.

obviously, there's nothing wrong with a submissive woman. obviously, the characters in call of duty that are most featured in reader - insert content are canonically framed in a lens that makes it seem like they would be the kind of men to only enjoy this kind of woman. obviously, not everyone in this fandom indulges this.

but it occurs enough. and it sets us back.

and i'm sick of it.

thank you for reading this far, and for hearing out what i have to say. i promise i don't do this often—but i also promise that i absolutely should. i love you.

kiki x

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lin-sterling · 23 hours ago

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I love the way Hans is looking for assurance from Henry here. he knows what's right and wrong, he's not dumb or weak or indecisive but he's constantly confronted by the conflict of duty vs. morality. does the end justify the means? can one questionable act be forgiven if it was done in name of greater good? has he done everything he could have and should have as someone with greater power than most? it's complicated and confusing for him, especially now that he's flown the nest so to speak, and is facing these questions for the first time in his own right as a noble lord.

the thing is, Hans probably would've been ashamed not to know the answer in front of someone like Hanush and wouldn't have asked for help. Henry though, he trusts Henry. and with exception of shit explosion that was pillory conversation, Henry doesn't make him feel shame. and so Hans turns to him for advice. not because Henry is some perfect person or an arbiter of good but because Hans feels safe to be vulnerable with him.

although, the way I personally play Henry, he does have an actual answer for Hans. he often does or says things he regrets but he always tries to make up for wrongdoings if they couldn't be avoided. the end does not really justify the means. the road he walks matters to him. it's not just about the goal, it's also about how exactly he gets there and he won't sell his soul for victory. in fact, the only person Henry would wreak absolute havoc for is Hans himself. but at the same time Hans would never ask Henry to compromise who he is, nor would he actually want that to happen. and Henry knows and appreciates this.

I think this sort of the summirizes my Henry's position regarding story decisions and even the romance between him and Hans: nothing ever happens the expected way, we keep stumbling our way out of multiple frying pans into multitude of fires and it's easy to lose yourself in this chaos. there's a plethora of things we cannot do and cannot be. but we won't give up. we will find a better way, always. and maybe we die trying but try we will.

and maybe it's a tad too idealistic. a little too hopeful. but I love the thought of them affirming each other's desire to do and be better, being each other's guiding light.

"did we do the right thing?"

"yes."

and fuck Hashek

#kingdom come deliverance #kingdom come deliverance 2 #kcd2 #kcd2 spoilers #kcd2 screenshots #henry of skalitz #hans capon #jindřich ze skalice #jan ptáček #hansry #hans x henry #sterling screenshots #sterling rants #sterling headcanons #god this is a mess #why do I write like this #weird

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usagi-chwan · 3 days ago

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Yes, I do (BSD x Reader) 1/2

🌸 Characters in this chapter: Kunikida, Atsushi, Oda, Chuuya and Dazai (Agency).

🌸 Spoiler alert: none, you can read without risk!

It was a request from someone on AO3, who asked me to imagine what the marriages of certain BSD characters with the reader would look like, and here it is!

I hope you like it, and no more discussions! Happy reading :)

Kunikida

- Everything is well calculated and perfectly organized. To the penny, to the detail.

- With him, expenses remain very reasonable (for an event on the scale of a wedding), but Kunikida made a big mistake, however. Yes, you are not dreaming.

- He had the extremely bad idea of selecting his groomsmen from among his esteemed colleagues. He simply wanted them to know that, even though he was often harsh with them at work, they were still counted among the people he cared about....

- Alas, it was not long before regrets set in: Ranpo ate the sweets intended for distribution to the guests, Atsushi broke his face following Kunikida to the altar, and Dazai...

- Alala, Dazai... If only he had not tried his medical strangulation technique with a flower garland at the ceremony, everything would have gone like a dream, according to the purest ideals of our dear Kunikida, despite the little blunders committed by their two colleagues...

- Apart from this... Unnecessary (and unplanned) "animation" from Dazai, the rest of your wedding went just as it was supposed to... Except for a few minor details, but trying to predict the actions of the likes of Ranpo and company remains a challenge that even Kunikida struggles to meet in its entirety. But he has not said his last word, that is for sure!

Atsushi

- He too made a small mistake, but not as big as Kunikida's.

- Speaking of Kunikida... He is just at the heart of the "little mistake" we are talking about.

- Wanting to have the best wedding possible, but realizing that he knew absolutely nothing about weddings, Atsushi looked for the most knowledgeable person when it came to organizing an event, and the answer quickly came to him: Kunikida, of course!

- But what he had forgotten was that there was a quid pro quo: accepting ALL Kunikida's "advice" (orders).

- But then, you can have the most magnificent wedding in the whole world, can you not...?

- If Atsushi had asked your opinion, however, your answer would have been slightly different from his; sure, you have definitely had one of the best days of your life, but...

- The most beautiful thing you saw that day was not the well organized garlands, or even the perfectly straight rows of guests... But the smile on Atsushi's face when he saw you walking towards him, waiting by the altar, in your magnificent wedding attire.

Oda

- A wedding with Oda means that the day will be as relaxed as if you were sitting on a deckchair at the beach.

- On the guest side, you will find only family and close friends (Dazai and Ango, over here!), giving a unique sense of security and tranquility for an equally memorable event.

- The smile he gives you as you walk up the aisle to the altar is so beautiful, in fact, that your knees almost give out... But you hold on, if only to avoid ruining the happiest day of your life.

- As for the children in his care (and you, too, for some time now), they have been commandeered to throw flowers down the aisle you are treading, to join your husband-to-be. And they could not be happier to do this basic, but fun, task!

- Oda holds your hand throughout the ceremony, gently squeezing yours without letting go for a second... But you are not going to run away, that is for sure!

- For the reception, you were content to reserve a small room, where you enjoyed yourselves like children until the first light of dawn. You had never seen him smile for so long, by the way! And especially in front of so many people.

- All in all, a simple, basic wedding, perhaps boring to some... But it was so beautiful that, even years later, you still get stars in your eyes when you talk about it.

Chuuya

- It is all about excess on your wedding day; to hell with restricting yourselves!

- He wants to show everyone how gorgeous you look in your wedding clothes (or how gorgeous you are at all), and so he does!

- Almost the entire Mafia is invited to the grandiose banquet following the ceremony, and itnis not for lack of trying to stop your future husband.

- With him, you are sure to drink the best wines, eat the best meal of your life, and knowing that you live with Chuuya every day... That is to say how much he spends his money!

- But for all that, Chuuya, like you, wanted the ceremony itself to take place in the strict privacy of his closest family and friends. Before, of course, you head off to the reception hall, now married, for the party of a lifetime. And, a few hours later, for a moment that could not be more special, prepared with care by Chuuya himself for months.

- Taking you by surprise, the lights of the gigantic hall went out one after the other, as Chuuya came near your chair, holding out his hand with a curtsey worthy of a true gentleman.

- He then asks if you will allow him the first dance, and as soon as he hears your reply, he leads you out onto the dance floor, where only a few colored spotlights light up the center, and the two of you gently waltz to the rhythm of a slow song (I can just see you dancing to Perfectly Broken by Banners!!).

- It is certainly one of the most magical moments of what has already been a magnificent day, though not quite as magical as the moment when Chuuya put a ring on your finger, of course.

Dazai (Agency)

- He is a complete stranger to excess.

- On the menu for your wedding: small guest committee, light meal, decorations from discount stores, reception in the Agence's main hall... Among other wonderful little attentions from your beloved.

- Simply because he wants to be able to enjoy the company of each guest to the full; but if hundreds of people are there, how can he?

- Well, this excuse is not entirely untrue, but... In reality, there is another reason why he wants to have this inexpensive wedding: he simply does not have the money.

- But you assured him that you did not need that to be happy on your special day, and he was so surprised and moved that he could not say anything else. A rare sight!

- Oh yes, there is one thing he spent money on without looking at the price tag... It is the ring he put on your finger, which you will treasure from now on, no matter what the material cost is. Because it is the emotional cost that counts, in these moments.

- (Which is a little convenient for Dazai, let's face it...).

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #anime #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #dazai osamu #bsd headcanons #dazai x reader #atsushi x reader #atsushi nakajima #kunikida x reader #kunikida doppo #oda x reader #oda sakunosuke #mariage #fluff

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apple-onigiri · 2 days ago

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hi! :) its headcanon thursday!

i’ve recently found out i’ve been saying odile wrong this entire time, because apparently “oh-deal” is french and technically correct for a vaugardian name. and it’s not “oh-dial” (a la croc-odile) like i’ve been saying this whole time.

anyway following that train of thought. you know that thing where like. you have a name in a language you do not speak, but its your parents', and so you say it wrong but its the only way you know how to say it, because that's how people around you say it in their language, in their accent? even if your parents still say it right. even if they try to teach you. but the people who know that language your name is in? they can tell you’re saying it wrong. most of them won’t try to correct you because, honestly, how rude is it to correct someone on how to pronounce their own name?? but you can hear it in the way they struggle to pronounce it the way you do, the way you know it's supposed to be pronounced but can't.

so, even if oh-deal is the correct way of pronouncing it because french, h/c that odile does not in fact pronounce it that way because yes her name is vaugardian, but her dad isn’t, and neither were the people around her while she was young. she grows up learning to speak it a different way. not even necessarily like. croc-odile. just different.

and people in ka bue pronounced it wrong and she, too, knows its pronounced wrong, she just doesnt know how to make it work. and her vaugardian name may have been a source of alienation between her and her peers in ka bue, but her ka buen pronunciation of her name in itself is a source of alienation between her and the people in vaugarde.

something about distances that can never be truly breached and molding yourself to fit whatever box that you think people have set out for you.

(this, ofc, assumes that odile went by. well. odile. in ka bue. i dont remember if its mentioned anywhere if she is. but assuming that!!)

omg hiii headcanon thursday!!

this ask is soooo fun! but so unfortunate. you've activated my trap card. i'm a linguist. ohhh boy

this is an issue of phonetics being specific to languages, or, more specifically, language families. what that means is that a person born in italy and raised hearing, speaking and using italian in everyday life might not have as much issue learning the correct pronunciation of spanish because the phonetic profile of those two languages is not that distinct (tho small differences in words spelled the same like "dulce" might trip you up). most phonemes present in one are going to be familiar to the native speaker of the other because both spanish and italian are romance languages

this is not the case for, again as an example, an italian speaker suddenly attempting to learn hungarian or german. the sounds used in the languages are just different and neither your brain nor your body (i.e. your tongue and/or larynx) know how to accommodate it. i've actually had first-hand experience with this when learning english - the 'TH' sound especially. it's not present in my native language so it was causing me trouble, and for a long time my brain just rounded it up to either a 't' or an 'f'. i probably wouldn't have grasped it had it not been for the fact i've been learning english for the majority of my life

(this is why it's good to teach kids languages - their brains aren't that set in their ways yet and have enough memory space to encode this better. this talk of kids being like sponges with languages has a lot of credence!)

when it comes to odile, if her name were to be pronounced differently in ka bue, it would probably would be less o-dial and more the way it's suggested in the JP translation, オデ��ール, so o-dī-ru. that's because asian languages don't really have an "L" sound and they conflate it with "R". they're also ruled by syllables more than singular letters, so it's hard to finish a word without a vowel at the end, unless the sound there is nasal or glottal. if that was the name she used in ka bue, i can imagine it being pronounced like that

and while i think odile wouldn't outright pronounce it that way especially after learning enough vaugardian to be fluent, it wouldn't surprise me if she pronounced it more akin to o-dirr, again, because of that L/R discrepancy. it'd probably frustrate her a lot that she can't just make her tongue shift in her mouth the way she wants it to to pronounce it in a way indistinguishable to a native speaker

we do however get the detail that she has more names than just odile - it's a conversation in the classroom by the student list, i think. and this made me think of how many people with, for example, chinese names, who function within a predominantly english-speaking environment, adopt english names for themselves to make the matter of communicating less complicated. it could very well be the case of odile taking on this name down the line, as part of her efforts to reconnect with the vaugardian half of her heritage

a fun consequence of this would be odile and siffrin being able to bond over picking names typical for vaugarde despite obviously and visibly not being from there. because yeah, in canon siffrin's name is not pronounced the way you would in english either!

gosh this got long!! so sorry! but it was just really fun to ponder this []~(￣▽￣)~* thank you for the ask, xen!!

#sorry for the linguistics rant. it will happen again #headcanon forum #in stars and time #isat #isat odile #cosmic soundwaves #odile #pondering #upon some reflection:#long post #many such cases

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lulublack90 · 22 hours ago

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Prompt 24 - Shield

@rosekillermicrofic April 24, word count 555

Previous part First part Wolfstar series part 1

“Damn, your parents are strict.” Evan teased as he shut the door. Barty had flopped onto the bed and was groaning into his pillow. Evan had to hold back another laugh. He could tell that Barty secretly loved the way Sirius teased him, and from what he’d heard and witnessed, Barty gave as good as he got.

Barty finally sat up, dragging his pillow with him and holding it tightly against his chest. He held it like a shield. Protecting him from wherever their conversation might go. “You don’t have to tell me about him, you know. I could tell you about the time I thought Mavis had got out, but she was inside the sofa the entire time.” Evan didn’t want to push Barty. There was no rush, and he needed him to understand that. Barty swallowed thickly, but shook his head no. He took a deep breath and began speaking.

“Regulus was my first, and I was his. By that I mean first everything. First friend, first kiss, first boyfriend, first time, first person I ever truly loved apart from my mum. We were together secretly for years. The only person who knew about us was Sirius, and he was amazing about it. It took him a while to warm up to me, but he never tried to break us up even though he thought I was a total twat and not good enough for his brother. I mean he still thinks I’m a total twat, but it’s with love now. Something else I never thought I’d have.

Regulus was planning to move in with me. He slept over as often as he could and was about to tell his parents that he didn’t want anything to do with the business again.” Barty paused, wiping away a few escaped tears. “And you know the rest. We never got our happily ever after. He deserved so much more than he got. He was a snarky little shit when he wanted to be, but he was also incredibly sweet and caring. He was the love of my life, and I miss him every day.” Barty dropped his head, pulling at the corner of his pillow. Evan moved closer, taking small steps to give Barty time to tell him no, and got into the bed beside Barty.

Evan had heard most of this from Sirius when he’d told him about Barty when they’d been at Lily and James’s.

“He sounds amazing. You were so lucky to have each other,” Evan wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew he needed to be gentle. Barty had opened up to him. This was something special. Knowing Barty the little bit he did. Evan knew that Barty even telling him the tiniest bit about him was a big deal. He usually kept everything close to his chest and put people off with his false abrasiveness.

Barty wiggled closer to him, and when Evan opened his arms to let him in, Barty went willingly.

“I really do think he would have liked you,” Barty whispered against his chest.

“And I’m sure I would have liked him. Eventually,” Barty snorted.

“Like me?” His voice was soft and quiet, almost shy.

“Yes, Barty, just like you,” and he pressed a kiss against Barty’s temple, and the man let out a contented sigh.

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mrcrawly · 20 hours ago

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Dr. House is still some of the best autistic representation I've ever seen

I made my initial post a while ago, but I'm finally starting season 4 and I feel just as strongly about this. I did get a little bit of pushback on my initial post so let me be clear: I don't care if you disagree with me! I don't care if you don't think Dr. House is autistic! Do not get into my comments and be condescending about it! I'm autistic and this is my opinion! Make your own post about why you think Dr. House is neurotypical and leave me alone!

Disregard for social cues or normalities. I'm really driving this one home because every time I watch this show it shocks me how much he's like me. Not necessarily even because he's an asshole, but because he's just weird. This is old news, but he has an entire conversation with Wilson about how he's not good with first dates and conversations because either the topic of conversation is boring, or there's subtext, and to understand the subtext you need "a decoder ring." Hm yes very neurotypical thing to say. He doesn't have much sense of boundaries or privacy, and regularly embarrasses Wilson or will discuss something gross with Cuddy while someone else is around. He also says pretty gross things in public and in inappropriate situations, even if just to be funny. Some of this is just generally him being an asshole, but I think some of this is genuinely a lack of understanding in how to interact with people. Sometimes he just plainly doesn't respond when asked a question or spoken to when he doesn't know what to say or doesn't want to speak.

Strong sense of justice and morality. I mention this a little in my initial post, but I don't remember if it was its own point. House gets angry when people endanger his patients, and will get angry at anyone, no matter who, if their decision hurts his patient. When Wilson was too afraid to put his foot down and insist that the family accept House's treatment in "Family," he gets pissed off at Wilson and tells him he's a "coward." He apologizes for this after because it was uncalled for, and Wilson's intentions were good, but nevertheless he was right. This is not me saying that House is a particularly moral individual. If you took a shot every time he violated very basic ethical principles you would die of alcohol poisoning before you reached the second season of the show. But House's concern is his patient's life. In his mind, if his actions save his patient's life, it is ultimately moral. When his team fucks up and risks their patient, he gets pissed off and will humiliate them so they understand the gravity of their mistake.

Specific and niche interests. I mention in my initial post that he has very few interests (mostly General Hospital and his job), but since the first couple seasons I've gotten more a feel for his love of music. He owns live recordings of Elvis on vinyl. He owns more than one guitar (from what I saw of his apartment). Music is kind of his thing. To take that a little further, it seems like he collects things. This is by no means necessarily an autistic trait, but collecting is very common with autistic people who have special interests. I collect Spiderman merchandise, for example.

Resistant to change. I don't think I'd seen the episode yet, but after he's shot at the end of season 2, he insists that the carpet that's been stained with his blood is kept. He goes as far as to annoy everyone incessantly in order to get his carpet back. House is also just generally the kind of person who wants things exactly how he wants them. He doesn't like people messing with his things or for his environment to change, even when the inconvenience is simple and ultimately unimportant. In the last episode of season 3, Wilson says this pretty plainly. House has played the same guitar since eighth grade, driven the same car for ten years, and been living in the same place for fifteen. Change just isn't his thing. It's often hard for autistic people to adapt to significant changes because of the way they process information. Change is overwhelming.

Observant and analytical. When Wilson starts yawning, he doesn't just write this off or explain it, he immediately starts considering every possible reason and deducing why he's yawning. House likes puzzles, and symptomology is his thing. He also definitely violated Wilson's trust by spiking his coffee with amphetamines, but he did so based on a line of logic and reason. This isn't necessarily an autistic characteristic, but it is fairly common among some autistic people to view a course of action or event through the lense of logic rather than considering the emotional consequences. I do this a lot. House is also especially blunt and almost excessively honest. He does lie (obviously), but when it really matters to be honest he will be, and he won't mince his words for people's comfort. This is going back to differences in how he experiences empathy.

This post is honestly probably boring, because I'm really just driving my initial points home. Again, I don't really think that House MD discusses autism in the most meaningful or accurate way, but House feels more authentic to me than actual, intentional autistic representation. Also, some of these things can be attributed to depression or House's problems with attachment; this is just my perspective on some things.

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mechs-headcanons · 2 days ago

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I was thinking abt languages in the mechs universe, and it seems like

A) Every planet/galaxy speaks English/the same common language (the more likely option)

B) the mechanisms can just speak the language of every planet they visit

Which either means they all have inbuilt translators (Why did Ivy have to translate for Scuzz in Falling Out?) or they are all just very, very fast at learning languages

I choose to believe the latter solely for comedic purposes. It only takes each of them like a week to learn new languages, except for Ivy who knows them all anyway

(theres probably no canon answer but i feel like being silly anyway)

oooooh yes. i personally believe that most planets speak a common language—although i wrote a fic based around the concept where there ISNT a common language and the mechs couldnt understand each other at first (for fun)

#mechcanon #askcanon #the mechanisms

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the-dreams-i-dream-blog · 2 days ago

Text

The summary:

2025 the boys of BTS were in the biggest band of the world, they have sold out shows and finished their mandatory military service. The world was theirs until an accident that happened in the year 2027 with their bandmate Jeon Jungkook. They all decided to break up after this accident, nobody speaking about it until now…. These are their interviews

Pairings: yandere Jungkook x reader

Chapter 2: You make me Begin (2025)

Jung Hoseok-

When we were making our comeback album, Jungkook was ready and he seemed like he never left. He would be the first one in the studio and the last one to leave. If you think he had energy before, he came back running on batteries.

Kim Taehyung-

During this time I don’t think I ever saw him sleep, but at the same time he was doing everything to show Army he was back and better then ever. Jungkook did his live’s on Weverse he would sing, dance, anything Army would want, he would provide. He looked fine, yes he would do his drinking but nothing crazy.

Park Jimin-

I think when we actually started the tour thats when he started to lose himself.Its crazy how hard he worked but now he was playing harder.

Kim Namjoon-

Every city we went to he was picking up ladies. I mean on all the other tours we have had he would have his fair share of his nights with his girls. But this tour was different every night a new girl. Asia, South America, North America, Europe.

You name it.

He couldn’t help himself.

Min Yoongi-

Aish, this boy

I would be roomed right next door to him in the hotels. It felt like I was living in my own personal hell. That boy can be loud and not just loud, he would go on for hours. I kind of felt bad for the ladies in his bed.

Kim Seokjin-

If the ladies weren’t enough, he got more into the drinking. He is a Korean man of course he loves his drinks. But when you wake up in the morning and chug a glass of whiskey like it’s milk, thats when we had a problem.

Kim Namjoon-

He would be drunk during meetings and the rehearsals, but you better believe he was completely sober during every single performance. He didn’t need to drink he was already drunk off the energy the fans were giving him.

(Las Vegas, 2025)

The night he saw y/n

Former manager-

Las Vegas was supposed to be like every other night, it was also the last concert in America. The boys did their thing, loved every second of it then headed out to their cars.

Interviewer- Did Jungkook see y/n while he was performing?

Former manager-

No. He saw her when he was in the back of the car with Jimin we were driving away from the stadium. She was at the performance she was part of BTS’s Army.

Park Jimin-

He loved looking at the Army’s while we drove away. But when he saw y/n, it looked like he stopped breathing.

It was also funny seeing her not acknowledging us driving past her like how the other fans were doing. She was looking down at her phone.

(He laughs)

Former manager-

She wasn’t from Las Vegas.

She was looking down at her phone to see where her aunt wanted to meet so she can get picked up.

(He takes a moment to take a breath.)

I remember Jungkook tapping my shoulder in the car and said “Do you see that girl who is wearing the black skirt and the black high tops?”

I thought he was crazy

Park Jimin-

There were so many people, when Jungkook asked our manager if he saw the same girl he did, it felt like it was a joke… it wasn’t.

He demanded our manager to find her no matter what.

Former manager-

I thought this is a lot of work for some girl he was going to sleep with once then never see her again. But I did what he asked because I couldn’t say no.

Kim Namjoon-

Jungkook was pissed when he found out she had already left Vegas. She was only there to see us perform then she had to go back to her home. Her reality.

But he now knew her name y/n l/n, so he did what he did best… find her.

Min Yoongi-

He couldnt just go to where she lived because one, we had to go back to Korea and Two, it would look creepy him just showing up. So he made a plan, a crazy plan but it worked. Now that I think about it I don’t think he ever let go of that “What’s yours is mine, what’s mine is mine.” Mentality.

( Flashback interview from Jungkook)

Jeon Jungkook-

I used to be very possessive and selfish.

Yours is mine and mine is mine.

Everything is mine.

Jungkook and the rest of the BTS boys went back to Korea and this is when jungkook starts his plan… Operation get y/n to Korea.

Kim Taehyung-

When I heard about his plan, I thought there was no way he was gonna pull this off.

Kim Seokjin-

It was too risky. If anyone found out we would all go down with him. I even told him off because of this, but does he ever listen? NO!

Jung Hoseok-

Aish

This part of Jungkook I never truly got maybe it’s our fault for allowing him to always get what he wants but his mind is an obsessive one and he is a fighter. Those two traits don’t always mix at least not with Jungkook.

Kim Namjoon-

Hearing this plan that he had it clicked for me that we were losing him somehow. My mind was racing asking so many questions. One of them being this isn’t the Jungkook we sent into the military,who is this guy?

Min Yoongi-

I wanted to believe that there was a reason he was going through all this trouble for this girl.This girl he saw once while he was driving past, so I agreed for him to go through with his plan

Interviewer- so what was Jungkook’s plan to get Y/N to Korea?

Park Jimin-

He wanted to hold a contest on Weverse in honor of BTS doing a comeback. The winner wins a trip to Korea of course, all expenses covered they would get our merch and spend two weeks in Korea.

Jung Hoseok-

There was no doubt Y/N would enter because it was a great opportunity. Jungkook kept track of all the names coming through and where they were from so he wouldn’t get the wrong girl.

Kim Seokjin-

The moment Y/N’s name came through to confirm she entered the look in Jungkook’s eyes were something I’ve never seen before. I kind of wished he would’ve stayed sleeping around.

Big hit would like to announce the winner of BTS‘s comeback contest here on Weverse , and the winner is … Y/N L/N.

authors note: Thank you guys for so much love for this fanfic, I’m so excited to show my work to you guys and I hope you guys continue to see the vision. :)

tags: @kokoandkookie @petersasteria @crispynutella @pumpkinbratsworld

#bts x reader #jungkook x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #bts yandere smut #jungkook smut #jungkook yandere #bts yandere #jungkook yandere smut

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talesfromawannabewriter · 2 days ago

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@beef-brisket

Turns out the list she made was an incredibly long one. They started on the very top of the list. Which was none other than-

Adam: Yoga balls?

Charlie grinned as she let him over to where the equipment was set up: Yes! I read somewhere that it helps the core and allows the baby to flush right out!

Adam sighed: Why not?

He allowed her to set him down on one ball while she took the other.

Charlie: Ready?

Adam nodded and she started to bounce on the yoga ball. Adam followed and soon it was a synthesized song of bouncing.

Charlie looked over at the pregnant man and didn’t see a difference in his expression. Other than pure irritation.

Charlie: Feel any different?

Adam: Nope. Other than how ridiculous we look. More so me than you.

Charlie: Maybe you need to bounce harder. Here let me just…

Trying to make him go she used her leg to lightly kick at his ball. Unfortunately with her powerful hooves she accidentally ended up sending the first man to the floor.

Cross that one off the list then

—

Plan number two had Adam and Charlie doing yoga. Which was more than a little difficult with Adam’s situation.

Charlie: Feeling any cramping?

She called out from her downward position. She could hear Adam groan which sounded like a good sign.

Adam: Yeah but not in the places that matter. My legs feel like jelly!

Not being able to take it anymore he laid himself down comfortably and tried to take a breather. Charlie sighed another plan down the drain.

—

Charlie: Ok I am positive that this will make your water break!

Adam: Please tell me this activity involves sitting.

Charlie: It does indeed, now I only have one question. Are you hungry?

Adam: ….Maybe a little.

As if wanting to embarrass him his stomach grumbled to life.

Adam scowled placing a hand on his massive gut: Oh hush you brat.

Charlie beamed: Then you’ll love this!

The two demons entered the kitchen and on the table where was supposed to be the spiciest chicken wings in all of Hell had been completely devoured.

By none other than the radio man himself.

Charlie: ALASTOR!!!

Said deer had been dabbing a napkin against his lips when he turned to the duo. He grinned at them.

Alastor: Hello my dear, and Adam, what can I do you for?

Charlie: Alastor those weren’t for you! They were to help Adam go into labor!!

Alastor: They were? My deepest condolences Charlie I had no idea. If it’s any consolation they were positively divine.

Adam screamed as he rushed towards him and proceeded to choke the ever loving life out of him. Charlie did her best to pull him away from her manager.

—

Charlie was at the end of her rope. She had tried everything and she meant everything on the list. But it was no use, nothing had done the trick.

She was ready to throw in the towel and make the call to Bel when Angel and his friend Cherri came tumbling into her office.

Angel: Charlie you’re never going to believe this!!!

Charlie: What?

Cherri: It’s a miracle to your bloody answers is what it is!!!

Charlie sighed: Listen guys I’m sure your hearts are in the right place and you mean well but-

Cherri: Shut up and let us speak cunt!

That got the princess to zip it. Angel proceeded to animatedly tell her of information he had just inquired.

Angel: Down in Imp city there is a restaurant that sells this type of dressing sauce for salads. It’s said that the ingredients used have been known to make a pregnant person immediately drop!

Charlie: Really!? Are you one hundred percent confident that’ll happen?

Angel: I only went online and searched for hours about it. Guess what babe? They all came back with only positives!

Charlie couldn’t help the squeal of excitement from escaping her. As she proceeded to jump up and down in pure joy.

This was it! The answer to her problems! She was finally going to get Adam un-pregnant!

What she hadn’t realized then was that the sauce was so popular they weren’t the only pregnant person in Hell trying to get their hands on it.

Flower Within

@beef-brisket

When Adam and Lucifer found out they were first expecting there were an arrange of emotions that they both felt at the time.

Disbelief, anxiety, and of course fear, with the slight sense of excitement.

Even though both were terrified at the idea of having a baby together, seeing as how they were only fooling around at that point and not officially together.

They were both genuinely happy deep down that they were getting the chance to be parents again.

While this would be Adam’s first time being the mother and not the father. He still marveled at the thought of getting to hold a little squirming bundle of joy in his arms once more.

As for Lucifer he was also quite happy. Despite his initial shock at the prospect of having more children than just his daughter.

He loved Charlie with all his heart but unfortunately Lilith only wanted one child with him. Claiming that they only needed one heir. But now he was to gain more children.

With Adam of all people, regardless of past issues with the first man deep within him the devil had wanted nothing more than to have him as the mother of his child.

Soon to be children if he would have it.

There was soon a new emotion that bloomed within both men’s chests. It was hope. Hope for a new future and their precious little one that would soon be in their arms.

….If only it were that simple.

Lucifer and Adam didn’t know why, maybe it was a curse by the Heavens or some kind of twisted punishment created by Hell. But Adam had been pregnant for the last three years.

While his belly was swollen and he was more than ready for the little one within to finally leave, the baby wasn’t.

Which meant Lucifer, along with the rest of the Hazbins, had to deal with a hormonal, temperamental, pregnant Adam.

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