#Should I accept what I have and work on improving that? If moving is in the realm of possibilities; shouldn't I focus more on that?

[crescentfool]

with the year coming to a close, i hope that anyone who's reflecting about how the year went remembers to be kind and fair to themselves with how you evaluate the year as a whole.

i think there are definitely times when life throws things that are... Not So Great at you. whether if it's some external circumstance that surprised you, or maybe your mentality wasn't at it's best. i wish for anyone who's encountered those kinds of challenges to be able to triumph over them and be able to say that they got through it.

heck, it might still be a work in progress even though you've kept chipping away at it, and that's ok! the results will show themselves eventually as you work through it! and i hope that we can all remember to be patient with ourselves as we go through these processes (learning, healing, etc.), because damn, it can be frustrating when you feel like you're "not there yet."

knowing that life can be rough at times, i think it's unfair to yourself (and others) to discount and downplay any progress you've made this year- whether if it's something that you did for the first time, or maybe you came to a new understanding and insight that you didn't have in the previous year.

it's not to say that you should undermine the validity of your experience with hardship, but to take the time to remind yourself what makes life worth living. to recall what moments were the most satisfying to you- and use it to strengthen your resolve for the next year and beyond. no amount of hardship will ever take away from the fact that you deserve to have hope that things will get better.

i hope that looking back on the year, you don't leave out the things you cherish. that you can remember the good that came this year. whether if the small victories are things like meeting someone new, trying something out for the first time, or making some strides in a long-term project/obligation...!

i wish everyone a happy new year! may it be prosperous, and that your life can move in a direction that's close to what you want out of life. you're all going to do great! remember to congratulate yourself for what you did well! despite everything, you're still here, and that's wonderful. never forget that!

[selvepnea]

Bleh

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

the pro

part ii: what we're willing to accept

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.

Notes: My brain chose violence this morning. Not beta-read because when is it ever.

Length: 4.8K

Warnings: Slow burn; unhappily married reader; divorced Art Donaldson; infidelity; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; unsafe sex

Summary: Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch.

He's the biggest men's tennis star since Andy Roddick.

That’s what your husband says, as if it’ll entice you. As if you know anything about tennis, about the pro that your husband says will be coming to the house to teach you to play.

It’ll be good for you. You need a hobby. 

You don’t gripe or argue. You don’t tell him that five months into your marriage shouldn’t have you looking for a new hobby. You should still be in the honeymoon stage, spending all of your time with him, hanging off of his arm, off of his every word. But he works so much and he’s away so often—

I don’t want you to get bored. 

It’s a sweet gesture. The maid handles the housework; you have a chef that handles most of the grocery shopping and cooking, unless you insist on making something yourself; you have a housekeeper that arranges for anything you need—dry cleaning, maintenance. And it’s no wonder that with all of his money, his power, he can just order a retired pro tennis player up to your house, like you’d order a pizza. There’s a tennis court in the back of the mansion, a few feet from the pool. You’ll get some new outfits, the best sneakers, the nicest rackets. You’ll finally have something to do to fill your days. 

Art Donaldson. 

You know his name before the lean, fair-skinned patrician man turns up at your front door. He trails you through the house, politely declines your offer of a beverage. 

“You ever played tennis before?” He asks. 

You haven’t. Before your husband arranged this for you, you hadn’t so much as given the sport more than a passing thought. You don’t have the heart or confidence to tell that to a man that’s made tennis his whole life, so you just give him a small, guilty smile and say no, you haven’t. He nods, waves you off, insists that it’s fine. 

“We’ll start with the basics.” 

-- 

Two months of lessons on the basics make your arms tired, and your hands sore. But where your swings are clumsy and your grip is weak at first, you can see improvement in the way that you move. Your steps are less clumsy when you go after a ball; you’re more aware of the service line and the base line; your forehand stroke from contact to your left shoulder is smoother; your rotation and follow-through on your backhand is coming along, but has a long way to go. 

Art’s instruction is calm and steady. He explains technique as much as he demonstrates it. When you get something wrong, he doesn’t scold, just lightly corrects. When you do something well, his encouragement is constant and free-flowing. Every accurate move and motion is met with, “Nice,” or, “Perfect,” or, “That’s it.” 

On the days when you don’t have a lesson with Art, you practice. You order a tennis ball machine to work on your forehand and backhand. You attempt (and fail) to learn how to slice on your own. You try anyway—you can only imagine the way his eyes might light up if you manage to surprise him. 

You’ve tried to ignore the rising interest that you have in Art, but you can’t help the little…Crush that’s developed. He’s just so attentive, and kind. When you find yourself smiling these days, it’s often because of something that he said, or did. You can’t remember the last time your husband made you feel giddy this way. It was probably when you started dating—before you’d made the decision to marry for comfort, rather than love. Your husband is practical, rarely physically affectionate, more heavily involved in his job and social circles than with you. 

But you’ll have to find a way to thank him. He’s given you a hobby, and a man that grins at you like you just painted the goddamn Mona Lisa when you serve your first ace. 

-- 

“So, tell me about the Mark Rebellato Academy.” 

Art smiles, dipping his head as he reaches for his coffee. It’s taken a few months, but you finally convince him to have something to drink with you after practice. Your chef is blessedly out shopping for ingredients for dinner, so you have the kitchen all to yourself. Art has watched you putter around, seeming surprised that you know where everything is. You can’t blame him; the kitchen is chef-grade, and you don’t cook much these days. 

“Did your husband tell you that’s where I went?” 

“No.” 

“Then how do you know?” 

You’re too embarrassed to admit that you’ve done some googling, and watched a couple of clips of him interviewing before and after his matches. 

“I’ve just heard,” You fib. “Tell me about it?” 

He leans back in his seat, eyes skating across your face as he seems to consider something. 

“What do you wanna know?” 

“Did you enjoy it? I mean—” It feels like a dumb question once it’s out, and you hurry to redirect, “With what you know now, if you had the choice, would you have learned how to play tennis somewhere else?” 

He considers for a moment, trailing his finger over the side of his cup. Your gaze flits to his fingers, and your own flex around your mug handle. You’ve spent far too much time looking at and thinking about Art’s fingers—their length and quickness; the slight roughness of his calloused hands; the lingering tan line from where his wedding band used to sit. 

“Yeah,” He admits, drawing your full attention back to his face. “I would. It was foundational, you know. I’ve been thinking of sending Lily there.” 

“Lily?” 

A bittersweet smile twists his lips. “My daughter.” 

“Oh!” It catches you off-guard.  

“Tashi, uh—” He clears his throat, “Lily’s mother, my ex-wife. She and I are thinking about schools.” 

“I’m sure they’d be glad to have her. Does she play tennis?” 

“Little bit. She didn’t start until last year, but she's a natural.” He clears his throat again, presses, “Are you and your husband planning on having kids?” 

“Oh god no.” You blurt it out, and realize as he raises his brows that you’ve spoken too quickly. You lean back in your seat, stirring your coffee quickly to distract yourself from your growing embarrassment. “He actually has kids already. Two girls, seven and ten. They’re at boarding school and they stay with their mother when they're on vacation. I haven’t gotten to spend much time with them.” 

“...He seems to be pretty busy.” 

“He is.” 

“So it’s just you in this big house?” He tips his head to the side, brows knitting with curiosity. “What do you do all day?” 

“Play tennis.”

He grins, chuckling, and your stomach flips at the sound. 

“It shows, you know,” He says. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I can tell you’re practicing without me. And,” He leans across the table, running his fingers lightly over the exposed skin of your bicep, “You’re getting stronger.” 

You wonder if he can see or feel the goosebumps that break out across your skin at the gentle sweep, his gaze heavy on yours.

“I have a good teacher,” You murmur. Art’s lips twitch with a soft smile, his hand gently cupping your arm. 

“Just good?” He plies. 

“The best. A real pro.” 

His smile widens, and the flash of his tongue sweeping across his lower lip makes your face go hot. You know that you’re caught when Art’s touch becomes firmer, pulling your arm toward him just a little. 

The sound of approaching footsteps startles you, and you hurriedly tug your arm away. The sight of your husband makes your heart leap into your throat. 

“There you are,” He smiles. “Art, how’s she doin’?” 

“She’s killing it.” 

You don’t dare look at him, but you can feel the weight of his attention lingering on you still. You just give your husband a smile, tipping your cheek up obligingly as he leans down to kiss it. 

“Actually, Art,” Your husband straightens up, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m glad I caught you. There’s a charity event for a local club this month. It’s for uh…What is it?” He squeezes your shoulders for answers, and you have to keep from rolling your eyes. 

“It’s a charity tennis match to raise funds to fix up the local courts. They need resurfacing and they’re raising funding to keep the fees down.” 

“We could use a sponsorship from the foundation,” Your husband adds. 

“Honey,” You glance back, wary of insulting Art. But—

“I’ll do it,” Art agrees. “Send me the details.” 

“Excellent,” Your husband grins. “Maybe we could coax you into a match or two.” 

You don’t chastise him this time—not when you see something light up in Art.

“Maybe.” 

--  

You haven’t seen Art play before. You’ve specifically avoided it. You’ve known that when you saw it, you would be too intimidated to do a damn thing on the court with him. But now, you can’t stop watching him. You don’t even care that you probably look so out of place—where everyone else is watching the ball, you’re just watching him. 

His movements are so neat, so precise. It’s like watching a dance. He’s running the poor guy on the other side of the net up and down the court. And the sounds that he’s making—god. Every little grunt and groan is weaving increasingly filthy thoughts in your mind. You already know that you’ll seek out the memory of those sounds, as you reach between your legs later. His shirt clings to his chest, showcasing the muscles that you’ve always suspected he has. Strands of hair plaster to his forehead as sweat drips over his cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose, over his jaw. 

When he scores a match point and he looks toward the cheering crowd—when his eyes land on you instantly, without having to search—it’s like you’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning. You can’t think, or move. You barely have the focus to applaud, but you manage to raise your hands and clap. 

-- 

Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch. 

Coffee becomes a post-lesson ritual. He starts to stick closer and closer to you as he follows you into the house until he begins to rest his hand on your lower back, guiding you to your door. He keeps nearby when you’re making it, brushes droplets of sweat off of your forehead or neck. Every touch is electrifying; you have to make a concentrated effort to keep your hands steady, your face neutral as your heart pounds and your stomach floods with butterflies. 

He pushes you harder on the court, and you force yourself to meet the level that he sets for you, even when you don’t feel confident in it. But you want to make him proud. 

It spurs you to lunge a little too far. 

The sharp stabbing pain in your left ankle makes you shriek, and you tumble to the ground, dropping the racket with a clatter. You hear the pounding of his feet, glance up just in time to see him clear the net before he’s on the ground at your side. 

“What hurts?” 

“My ankle,” You grit out, hissing softly as he helps you straighten your leg out. He smooths his hands over your calf, leaning over you and gently guiding your foot in a few different directions. You whimper as he starts to guide your foot to the left. 

“Okay, okay,” He soothes, “Let’s get you inside.” 

For as much as you damn the throbbing in your ankle, you thank it a little, too. You lean heavily against Art, making the slow, arduous journey back to the house with his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. 

When your husband comes home, he finds you with on the couch with Art coming back in from the kitchen, an ice pack in your hand. 

You’d hope for concern, but your husband frowns, glances at the swelling knob of your ankle, and simply asks: “What did you do?” 

“She lost her balance.” Art sits down on the other end of the couch, soothing you as the chill of the ice pack makes you shift with discomfort. 

“Are you going to be able to walk tomorrow?” Your husband presses. “We have dinner at the Fineman’s.”

“I'm still going, don't worry about that."

“...Tomorrow might be a bit soon,” Art warns. 

“I’ll be okay. It’s just a sprain, right?” You tip your brows up, hoping, praying that he’ll agree for your sake. His fingers flex around the ice pack, jaw ticking as he clenches it. He doesn’t say a word as your husband sighs heavily, grumbles, “I hope so. Still, we should put a pause on the lessons until she’s fighting fit again.” 

Art finally tears his eyes from yours, a tight smile on his lips. 

“Of course.” 

-- 

“How’s the ankle?” 

It takes you a moment to scrounge up an answer. You can’t believe that he called. You knew that Art had gotten your number when you started taking lessons with him, but he’s never used it beyond texting to confirm a lesson time now and again. 

You look down at the still-swollen flesh as it strains against the thin strap of your slingbacks. 

“Fine,” You lie, “It’s um—” You glance over your shoulder, listening for your husband. “It’s not that bad.” 

“Good enough to walk on?” 

Hardly. 

“Yes.” You think you’ve gotten away with it, but when you hear Art sigh and chastise, “You should rest,” You know that you haven’t.

“I have,” You insist, “All day.” 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Yes.” 

“You can tell him no, you know.”

Your mouth works wordlessly, body going hot with indignation. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can’t tell him that he’s wrong, that your husband’s connections are the lifeblood of his business. You can’t tell him that if your husband’s business falls apart, you won't be able to afford those tennis lessons, and then how the hell are you supposed to see Art again? 

You just yank your phone away from your ear and hang up. 

-- 

I invited Art. 

It shouldn’t be a surprise, but your husband’s statement makes you feel like you’ve swallowed your tongue. You haven’t seen or spoken to Art in nearly two weeks. Your doctor recommended putting off any physical activity, which your husband surely relayed to him. He was the one whose name was on Art’s checks, after all. 

Your husband has always thrown a massive party to kick off the summer. Every year, 150 of your husband’s closest family, friends, and business associates flooded into the house. It shouldn’t be such a surprise that your husband invited Art after the performance he had given at the fundraiser—$25,000 from the foundation, and ticket sales went through the roof when it had been announced that the Art Donaldson would be making an appearance. Your husband owed Art a lot, and probably saw this as an opportunity for him to network, to take on more clients. He had been evangelizing Art’s training to any of your friends that would listen—how good you are on the court, how engaged and energetic you seem to be these days. 

It’s one thing to know that you’ll have to put on a happy face for the crowd, but to know that Art will be among them makes your insides twist with nerves. You can’t stop thinking about the way that he had spoken to you when you were hurt; his calm, steadying demeanor as he’d gotten you inside; the careful coaxing and gentle touch that he’d used as he’d taken your shoe off and examined your ankle more closely. 

You think about it now, as you strap on another pair of heels. Your ankle really is doing well, though you have a little lingering pain in shoes like these. You’ll likely be on your feet for the length of the party; it’s going to be a long night. You look over yourself in the mirror, self consciously tipping your ankle from side to side for anything that he may spot or catch out. But there’s nothing, you reassure yourself. You slide your hands over the skirt, plastering on a smile as your husband pokes his head into your dressing room. 

“Almost ready in here?” He asks. 

“All set!” 

-- 

He doesn’t come over to you. On the crowded patio, you can feel him watching you—you’ve gotten so used to seeking out the sensation that you can’t ignore it now. The first true look at him is agony. He watches you from just a few feet away, a glass of champagne in hand as he speaks with your husband and the Finemans. He openly looks you over, eyes drifting over your body to the flash of ankle revealed by the slit in your dress. He tips his head to the side just a little, squinting before his eyes flit back up to your face, lips twitching with a small smile. 

You want to hate how good it feels; you want to be angry with him for his smug knowing, his insistence of You can tell him no, you know. But it feels so goddamn good to have his attention again that you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed. You know that you’re staring—that you both are—and you force yourself to turn away and excuse yourself from the conversation you’re in. You go inside, murmuring your thanks for the waitstaff that pass you along the way.

The house isn’t nearly as busy as the patio, and you're able to slip into your darkened study unnoticed. You leave the lights off, certain that if you turn them on, people will be drawn in to bug you, like moths to a flame. The party’s lights and music filter in through the partially-closed blinds. 

You lean against the desk, circling your ankle and wincing a little. You’ll hide for a few minutes, let it rest—

Your breath catches in your throat as the door opens. You expect your husband, ready to scold and usher you back to the guests. 

You only have a second to get a look at Art before he shuts the door behind himself, plunging the room back into darkness. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the desk as you use it to ground yourself. 

“...Do you need something?” You ask, voice wobbling with nerves. 

“Wanted to come say hi.” 

“Well. Hi.” 

You hear him chuckle, his footsteps muted by the carpet. 

“Thanks for the invite.” 

“It wasn’t my idea.” It’s not polite to admit, but you want it to sting him, just a little. Maybe it does; in the dim of the room, you can’t see Art’s expression as he comes to a stop just a couple of feet from you. 

“Do you want me to go?” He asks. You know what you should say, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. 

“No,” You whisper. You feel the heat of him as he comes closer, his hands resting on the desk and caging you in. You bite your lip as gently brushes his nose against yours. 

“He isn’t taking care of you.” 

“My ankle is fine.” 

“I’m not talking about your ankle.” He lifts a hand, smoothing it over your hip as your breath mingles. Art’s fingers drift from your hip to stroke over the apex of your dress’s slit. His fingers slip further down, and you nod as he palms your thigh. Before you can say or do a thing, Art sinks to his knees. He curls his hand around your left calf, lifting it. You shiver as his lips press a gentle kiss to your ankle. His hand and lips travel up, easing the fabric of your dress higher with each second. The first brush of his knuckles against your panty-covered clit makes you jolt. Your hands dig into the wood of the desk as his fingers hook between the fabric and your skin. You lift your hips without a word, allowing him to draw them down. 

Art presses a kiss to your mound before he lowers his head, giving your lips a sweet, sucking kiss. You gasp softly as his tongue swipes across your clit. You look down despite the fact that you can’t see him well. You can just make out his blissful expression, his eyes closed as his laps broadly across your aching cunt. You lower your hand to his neat hair, winding your fingers through it, unable to help grasping it. His heady moan vibrates against you and you nearly cry out at the sensation. You manage to just catch it, the sound dying in your throat as Art buries his tongue inside you. He sweeps his thumb over your clit in rush, harried circles, panting against your heated flesh. You rock your hips down against his lips, tightening your grip on his hair as you guide him. He lets you do as you please, whining against your skin as your movements become less controlled.

“Art,” You warn, “I—Oh, oh god—” 

He hums in encouragement, sucking your clit back between his lips and lashing it with his tongue. Your jaw drops open, your hand shoving Art even more tightly against your skin as you cum suddenly. A stunned, breathy moan slips from your lips as Art leans back, smearing his lips against the inside of your thigh. 

You use your grasp on Art’s hair to draw him back up off of his knees, giving him a crushing kiss as he catches his balance. You swipe your tongue across his lips, whining against his lips as you taste yourself on him. He presses close, his hard cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You reach down, palming and squeezing his length as you trade slick, messy kisses. He steers you back onto the desk as you fumble to undo his belt, button, and zip. 

“Condom?” He asks. 

“Pill,” You reassure, shoving his pants down. You lap broadly across your palm, grasping Art’s length and guiding him closer. He brushes the tip of his cock against your still-throbbing clit, smiling as you whine. You’re going to ache tomorrow, but you’ve never been so happy to be sore.

“Art.” 

“Sssh.” 

“Please—” It’s hardly out of your mouth before he shoves his hips forward, seating himself fully with a single thrust. You bite down on your lip to quiet your moan, curling your arms around your shoulders. He rocks into you with firm, quick strokes, his mouth covering yours. You can hear things on the desk rattling with each thrust, kisses growing less controlled as he hoists your thigh up around his hip. 

“Oh, god,” You breathe, “We have to be quick—He’ll come looking—” 

“Not until you cum for me again,” He urges. “I need to feel it, sweetheart.” 

“Art—” 

“When’s the last time he did this? Hmm?” He presses, “When’s the last time he made you cum? When’s the last time he tasted you?” 

“Never,” You admit with a shiver. It seems to renew Art’s passion, his thrusts and hold growing more intense. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands hooking tightly in the fabric of his jacket. He yanks the front of your dress down, bowing over you and drawing one of your nipples between his lips. You whimper as he toys with the bud, tugging it gently with his teeth before swiping across it. You arch into the slick heat, using your leg to tug him even closer as you chased the swelling curl of your orgasm. 

“Just like that,” You urge, “Ffffuck—yes, yesyesyesyes—”

Your eyes squeeze shut as your hips buck down against his, pussy pulsing as he spills into you. Your heart pounds in your chest as the two of you slow and still. Art rests his forehead heavily against your neck, peppering gentle kisses across the exposed skin. You have to move—now. You don’t know if anyone heard you, but if someone did, you’re screwed. If no one did, your husband will probably be looking for you anyway, ready with a scold for neglecting your hostess duties. 

“...I have to go,” You warn softly. It takes Art a moment to move, but he does, gently drawing himself back from your still-throbbing cunt. You hear the clanking of his belt buckle as he tucks himself away, and you reach down, righting your dress where it’s been pulled away. You take up your panties from where they’d been discarded on the floor, tugging them on before you straighten your skirt and hurry out of the room. 

--  

“Can I see you?” 

It’s only been an hour since the last guest has left, and you are so, so fucking tired. You glance toward the bathroom door. You know that you locked it, and you’re certain that your husband can’t hear you over the shower running, but you can’t help but be paranoid.

“You just saw me,” You remind him. 

“Tomorrow,” Art clarifies. 

“Where?” 

“I’ll send an address.” 

You bite your lip, toying with your earring. Your pussy is still aching from the stretch of him, your ass sore from getting fucked on the desk. 

“...You regret it?” He asks. 

“No,” You don't give your answer a second thought.

“I’ll send an address. Whether or not you see me is up to you. Just…think about it. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

You lower your phone, hanging it up and watching his contact information blink away. It’s only a moment before a text with an address lights up your phone. You don’t have to think about it. You already know what you’re going to do. 

--  

You know that you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Art has spent so much time in your home, so you feel entitled to look around a little bit. You eye the row of trophies on his mantle, photos of him playing when he was young. You come to a stop at a picture of him with a young girl, a racket in her hand and a medal around her neck. 

“Is this Lily?” You ask. 

“Yeah,” He nods. “First competition.” 

“Already getting gold,” You smile. “The Mark Rebellato Academy isn’t ready for her.” 

Art chuckles, nodding as he steps around you.

“You, uh…You want something to eat, or drink, or…?” He trails off, tucking his hands into his pockets as he takes a couple of steps back toward his kitchen. You turn to face him, taking him in more fully. 

“Art?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Why am I here?” 

He doesn’t answer for a few moments. You can see him weighing his options before he comes closer. 

“I…I’ve been thinking about last night.” 

Fear shoots through you, but you force yourself to stand tall. “Okay.”

“I could lie and tell you that it should be a one-time thing, but I can’t remember the last time I got through a day without thinking about you. And I think you’ve been thinking about me, too.” Art stops as the tip of his shoes brush against yours, and you let your eyes slip closed as he rests his forehead against yours. 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” He pleads. “Tell me to fuck off right now and I will never say another non-tennis related thing to you again.” 

-- 

When he fucks you, he curls close, chest pressing against yours as he catches your lips in a kiss. You sink back against his pillows, your head cradled by his broad palm as he rolls his hips achingly slowly. You don’t bother to hide your whines and moans, and you revel in his. Every grunt and whimper and groan that Art lets out lights you up. 

And when you cum, you don't have to quiet yourself. His name tumbles out of your mouth, cushioned between expletives as your nails dig into his shoulders.

--

"What time is he home tonight?"

You don't want to think about it. You want to stay in this cozy little bubble, trailing your fingers over his muscled chest as he massages your nape and kisses your forehead.

But you know that you'll have to let the world back in sometime.

"I don't know," You admit. "Late."

"...Could stay."

"He'll be suspicious if I'm not home when he gets there."

Art sighs softly, running his hand down to rub between your shoulder blades.

"This isn't going to be easy, is it."

"What?"

"Letting you go every day."

"Every day?" You tease, pushing yourself up to get a better look at him. "Don't get greedy, Mr. Donaldson."

He smiles, raising his hand and cupping your cheek. "Is it greedy to know what I want?"

You shake your head a little, lowering your lips to brush against his.

"Not when I want it, too."

part ii: what we're willing to accept

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[fishnapple]

Signs that they are the one for you

This reading is about the signs that show the person you have in mind is the one who is best suited for you and can match you the most. This is not about THE ONE(TM) or your ultimate happiness, but they might very well be that.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

GROUP 1

If you are someone who is not always decisive, someone who takes a lot of time to commit to something seriously, someone who needs to weight all the pros and cons to arrive at a decision, then this person will make you step out of that operating mode. They will make you want to commit, fast. You will find yourself making decisions about this person, about this connection a lot easier, taking just a little time.

Sometimes, it will feel like a sudden move, a rash decision on your end. But you being decisive and committing fast is not because you are afraid, worry or want to rush things. This person, this connection, just feels right to you. You don't have to think long and hard or to find excuses and reasons to do something or not do something.

There will be elements of fatefulness surrounding the connection. Your intuition will be in top shape, there will be no illusions muddling up your mind and heart. You will see this person clearly, both their good and bad, and you won't find excuses for their bad nor focus exclusively on their good. There is a willingness to see and to understand each other truthfully. But that doesn't mean you will accept all of their problems and let them be, no, you will want to work with them, trying to help them be a better person, to improve together, to transform together. It's not the "I can fix them" mentality, it's"we can work together."

You will be able to talk freely with each other and discuss everything on your mind. Even when your opinions and viewpoints clash, it won't create conflict between you. You will feel a sense of shared missions, shared dreams, and together, you can achieve those easier, like having two hearts and two minds look in the same direction.

One of the sign that they are the one is that people will view you being together positively. I'm not saying that you should depend on opinions of other people to gauge your relationship. A lot of relationships that are considered ideal by people are actually not that ideal to the people inside those relationships. What I mean is, people will see an improvement in your life when you are together, the good impacts you have on each other will be visible.

GROUP 2

An obvious sign is that you will smile a lot when you are around this person or when you think about them. They just bring joy into your life. Other people would probably comment that you guys are a lot more talkative when together than being with others, a loud couple perhaps?

You will trust this person more easily than other people, there is a sense of familiarity, having experienced the same things, dream the same dreams. You share the same values and life philosophy that makes it easier to navigate life together.

You will want to give gifts to each other, on no special occasion, just because something reminds you of them and vice versa so you want to give that to each other. It will feel natural to share with this person. If you are someone who is independent and used to getting everything by your own efforts. This connection will make you more open to accepting from others and also sharing with others. Instead of "you" and "me", it will be "we".

The energy of this group feels very positive and active, like you guys are building something together. Lots of stones stood upwards, pointing to the same direction, almost like they were about to take flight, towards the sky. "Waking up" or "arise" would be the word.

The revelation that they are the one will hit you suddenly, likely when you're unsure of how to ground the connection, the feeling of uneasiness will keep piling up inside. Until they all fall down over the cliff, leaving behind the tiny sprout of realisation. It will be an overturn. You will feel a new creative energy. By being with this person, you will want to create something, to build something, it might translate to sexual desire. As if a restraint has been removed in your psyche and the energy inside is released and set free.

This person will feel like an answer to your long forgotten questions, a warm meal and a nice rest at the end of a hard day, they will appear in your mind when you're asked what do you see in your future.

GROUP 3

There are two distinct sides here, one is warm and dark, one is cool and light. This person will be the other side of the same coin to you. You will feel a sense of mirroring and contrast with this person. Like chirality, right hand and left hand. You will be able to balance each other out, bringing to the table the traits that the other person lacks, helping each other develop a more balanced psyche.

You will have a grounding effect on this person. As much as they are the one for you, this is the sign that you are the one for them. You will know intuitively how to work with their worries and pains. They may suffer some insomnia, repressed anger and some hidden unknown fears that are hard to express and harder to have someone understand them. But you will be that person. With you, they will feel more safe and grounded enough to work with themselves in a healthy way. And they can do that for you too, remember that you guys are mirroring each other. You just know how to touch the other person in the most caring and considerate way that makes the other person feel safe and anchored. You will probably develop some more healthy habits together, trying to get rid of toxic and unhealthy habits that have their roots in losses and insecurities.

You will be in a constant mode of being both the student and the teacher, learning and guiding each other, together. Sometimes, you can both learn to be more confident in yourself, to express your individuality, having fun, other times, you both will learn the importance of being in a social group, of friendships and how to care for society. How to be a part of something yet still have your freedom. There's no definite role for each person, each has something to share and teach while also has something to learn from the other person. You will have a sense of growth with them. That what you do and what you think matters, not just to your life but bigger, and they will make you more aware of your impact on the world.

Talk of serious, long-term commitment will be early on with this person. Similar to the other groups, you will want to commit, to build a lasting relationship with this person. The idea of having a home together, acting as one unit, and the relationship being sanctioned officially will feel natural to you.

GROUP 4

This person will make you want to dream the "impossible" dreams. Whatever you think as impossible, they will have a way to sway your belief and make you feel like it's possible after all. You will not feel contented anymore with just being small and playing it safe with your life. You will dare to cast your gaze to farther horizon, seeing yourself in a grander way, acting in a more decisive way, which may come as a surprise to the people around.

They will introduce you to many different topics and diverse subjects to widen your perspective and knowledge. They could act a little like a mentor to you, maybe they are someone who has more experience in various areas of life, regardless of their age, who's seen the world more and they are ready to share that with you. Their way is not bossy nor domineering but gentle and affectionate, making you more willing to open up to new ideas. When they're explaining something to you, it will not feel like sitting in a class, hearing the teacher droning on and on, but it will feel like sitting with a friend, eager to share experiences of their newest adventures, lots of giggling, laughing and joking.

In the most positive way, by being with them, you will become more of yourself, light up those dark, forgotten corners inside and embrace them with clarity and self-forgiveness.

I think both of you will bring some baggage and old habits into the relationship at the beginning. Could be a desire for perfection, the desire for control, to force and bend the situation to one's own will. But gradually, those baggage will be lifted and unpacked neatly, transformed into something that can work for both of you. The force that wants to lead, to direct, will be united. Instead of working against each other, you will work together.

Your appearance might even change. Notice how some couples tend to look alike and similar to each other after being committed to each other for some time. It will be a positive change. The state of happiness will be apparent physically.

GROUP 5

You will feel triggered by this person. Every action and word from them will feel like a personal attack, at first. It will be unpleasant, but only when you're not ready to face yourself. And they will be the one to help you with that task. No matter how hard it is, you can count on them to be there for you, to remind you how to be strong and yet vulnerable at the same time.

They will help you free up emotional baggage that you've held on for far too long, lighten your loads so that you can run more freely, see the world more clearly and discover the poetry in living.

Time and space will not be felt when you're connected to this person. No matter where you are, no matter how much space and time is between you, you will feel an inexplicable connection with them. You guys can disconnect for a few months, come back and resume the conversation as if no time has passed at all, you maybe continents apart from each other but the presence of the other person will always be felt. Through the conversations you have with other people, through the lyrics of the song you listen to, through the rain and cloud, through the blanket and cold hands.

You open a window so that the wind can come in at any moment, you will be like that with them. This person will be there when you have the loudest laugh, and when you have the heaviest tears, they will bear witness to them all, without a flinch, without judgement. If at first, you find their words and action harsh and cruel, you will gradually see them differently. You will see them as your pillar of strength and comfort. Has anyone ever dared to be so honest with you like that? Has anyone ever let you be that honest to them like that? If your answer is no, then you will know that this person is the one.

[always-just-red]

hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.

but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.

maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)

feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.

Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰

Technical Difficulties

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.

Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!

Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?

Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?

You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.

Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:

Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx

Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, ok? You have time.

Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:

Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!

Ok, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.

Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?

“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”

Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”

“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”

The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.

“Mmhmm.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Sylus.”

You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.  

“I need to go, ok?” Your eyes are shining.

“Ok,” he says softly.

There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??

You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.

…

You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.

You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.

Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.

Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.

Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.

At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.

You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”

“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.

“How did you even get in here?”

He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.

Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”

“Magicking, yeah.”

You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.

“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”  

“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”

Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.

“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”

“Snob.”

“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”

You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.

Nero’s yelling at me

Wants to talk to U

Can U pick up? Pls?

It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”

He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.

Nothing happens.

Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.

With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.

“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.

“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”

“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”

“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”

“No, ok?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”

“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”

“Are you ok?” he asks after a second.

Ok? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”

Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.

You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.

Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.

The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.

“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.

“That’s Skye!” Tara.

Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.

You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.

With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.

Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.

He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.

Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”

“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”

His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”

“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.  

Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”

It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.

Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.

It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right.”

“…Good.”

Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.

“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”

There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”

Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.

You chuckle to yourself.

And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.

[milaswriting]

Update. — 3rd October 2024

Well, helloo. If you're following me and reading this then...you must really hate me for my lack of activity on this blog. I apologise for that. Doing a masters degree really kicks my ass, and leaves me with no time to write. But Golden has never been dead or abandoned, it's very much always at the forefront of my mind.

And, for that pure reason, I know it's a story I haven't been 1,000% happy with so the story is going through some major changes. Probably, the first is that it's being rewritten. A (somewhat) new plot written with whole new software—we're making the move to Twine.

My reasoning; I've spent over a year learning the coding which makes me want to rip my hair out. I get to have a lot more ownership over my work, the customisation options are stellar, and you guys will get to read it for free.

The reasons for rewriting has been because I want to fix the cringey writing from when the story's first demo was released. It's mostly from the earlier chapters, but then the thought of plot changes came to me and I wanted to implement those. Realistically, the majority of what's being rewritten is what I had planned for book two—so I'm just bringing that forward. I'll update the synopsis closer to the release of this rewrite.

The changes (which can be subject to change): I'm getting rid of the university idea (though you can still choose careers that are related to those degrees from the options that'll be given) (e.g., if you liked the nursing student option, then your MC can work as a nurse). I'm thinking that the MC will already know about the supernatural world to some extent—there'll still be a lot of suspense and mystery and things to unravel, that was always going to remain. And, in this rewrite, my thought is that the MC and the gang will be working at a multi-agency organisation — called The Everbrook — where the aim is to bridge the gap between humans and supernaturals. To make the world run smoothly, so to speak.

The ROs are the exact same! No changes to that—the only change is that them and the mc will somewhat know of each other already. The genre is the same. MC is still as they are, a Lehsian socialite with a pretty (yet peculiar) birthmark. The parents will have much, much less of a role, but they'll still be mentioned here and there.

This seems like a load of word vomit, but I feel like these changes will improve the story. I'm hoping that it'll make MC less of a spare part in the story, allowing them to have more autonomy in the supernatural universe, especially with their enhanced skillset.

I've done the customisation in terms of the UI layout for Twine already, and it should be mobile friendly too. With that done, I've started writing and I'm a few thousand words in. A lot of what I've written in the ChoiceScript version can still be used, but also getting back into writing a story from scratch is something I'm looking forward to.

I feel like this is a bittersweet thing because yay to a new and better story, but also the time it's going to take to get it out. I'll debate whether to release the whole ten chapters, or do a few chapters at a time, like splitting it up into chunks (releasing three chapters now, and three chapters later on).

Another reason as to why I've taken so long to mention this, other than learning code and the rewrite, is just the whole process of this being a little nerve-wracking. The whole thought of a rewrite of something I've put so much effort into is scary, but it'll be worth it.

I'll accept any questions you've got, and I'll create an FAQ regarding all of this too. But, most importantly, you're in the loop of how this is progressing. I really appreciate everyone's kind words about this story: loving the ros, re-reading it, still sticking by my writing—it means a lot. So, thank you and I hope the future of this story is what you want and more.

PLANS.

Finish introductory scenes.

Finish chapter one.

WORD COUNT.

2.2k (rewrite)

[guzhufuren]

The message that P'Sammon, the writer of 4 Minutes, shared on her twitter (heads up it's google translated)

[Great Tyme]

Many people have understood correctly. In the real dimension, how could Great and Tyme love each other? One is a loveless child who looks at the other with lust. The other is a young doctor who is stuck in resentment. If Great and Thyme had never entered the four-minute dimension, there is no way they could have loved each other.

But both of them had the opportunity to enter the four-minute dimension, which is not an imaginary world, but a parallel universe connected by a bridge called NDE (Near-Death Experience).

[What if]

The four-minute dimension is a world where...

What if… Great is brave enough to stand up for what is right.

What if… Tyme can put down his resentment.

Therefore, their relationship develops properly and gradually. Love can then arise in that dimension.

Fortunately, Great and Tyme have the opportunity to return to a new life in a world where time moves forward normally. The brave Great and Tyme who put down their resentment have remembered the love that they had for each other in the four-minute dimension and continue to love each other in the real dimension. Even though Great still has to take responsibility for the consequences of his own actions, Great is no longer alone. Tyme will be the one who will be by Great’s side from now on.

The love of this couple originated in a different way because these are Great and Tyme. Two young men whose hearts stopped beating at the same time at 11:00 am and had the opportunity to enter a special time together, both of them learned not only about love and relationships but also about making decisions in life.

[Regret]

The author's mother always made this joke that "knowing something is not as good as knowing if I should have", which made the author think carefully before deciding to do or say anything. If I had known, I would have been able to change it while I was still alive, but if I had known, when I was 'about to die', I would not have been able to do anything. The experience of caring for terminally ill patients taught the author that we should not live our lives as if the end would never come. This idea reduces impulsiveness, spontaneity, and ignorance. Every decision is under our control.

[Timeless]

Does a timeless land really exist? From an author's perspective, I believe it does. But with the potential of humans who can only control the dimensions of width, length, and height, and perceive the time dimension that flows forward and does not reverse, life is determined by lifespan. But if we can bring ourselves to experience the fifth dimension, for whatever reason, we may escape from the rules of time or even control time ourselves.

The author would like to ask permission not to reveal all the theories of science, physics, medicine, research, or philosophy used to create this story. In fact, there are visual symbols, additional interpretations from the production team and actors that the author must analyze himself as well. Therefore, it is open for discussion. There is no right or wrong. You can throw theories around as much as you want. I really like to read everyone's analysis.

Thank you to all viewers who have been following 4MINUTES all along. Me and the team will accept all criticism to improve and develop future works. 🥰

[genericnam]

Why, out of GF, Amphibia, and TOH, only Luz didn't have to leave her new world behind:

I've seen people complain about Amphibia and to a lesser extent, Gravity Falls, for having their series end with a goodbye; the main characters having to leave their found families and this world they've grown to love and return to regular life. But the thing is, the three shows all have MASSIVELY different morals, that each fit in with how the goodbyes (or lack thereof) work into the finales.

Gravity Falls has a large theme of temporary goodbyes and reconciling. Stan and Ford being the primary example. But there are others: Soos and Melony, Wendy and Robbie, even Dipper and Mabel to an extent. The show builds upon this with Gravity Falls being a VACATION, they aren't trapped there, they could theoretically go home at any time. Episodes such as Summerween and Dipper and Mabel Vs. The Future also build on the tone, telling that it's okay to both grow up and move on, but you don't have to leave behind what you once loved in doing so.

The final conflicts (Wierdmaggedon) are caused because of characters not being able to let go. Stan couldn't let go of Ford, Mabel couldn't let go of Gravity Falls, Gideon couldn't let go of Mabel.

Gravity Falls teaches the viewer that even if you love something, you have to let it go, and eventually it will return. In the words of Bill Cipher: "We'l meet again. Don't know where, don't know when. I just knew we'll meet again, some sunny day."

Amphibia has a similar theme of Gravity Falls, but it takes it further. Amphibia tells you that if you don't let go, sometimes things will only get worse. The primary example for this is the show's catalyst event: Marcy getting Anne to steal the Music Box. Marcy chose to go to Amphibia, rather than move away, and she dragged her friends into it with her. Instead of having a long distance friendship with Sasha and Anne, she took them to an alternate dimension in order to spend eternity on a massive adventure, and it got her killed. Marcy and Anne died and Sasha tried to kill herself.

And that's only Marcy. Sasha was a control freak that bordered on yandere at the height of her villain arc. Sasha couldn't accept that Anne was beginning to move on from the toxic friendship that the Calamity Trio had locked themselves into.

The trio were horrible to eachother, pre-character arcs, and they needed to focus on self improvement before they could even hope to be good friends. In the time between 'All In' and the epilog, the Calamity Trio would not have actually been able to be good for eachtoher. They say they forgive eachother, but that was forgiveness given during a WAR. Post show, the real feelings would start to bubble up. Anne's resentment for the betrayals, Marcy’s abandonment issues, Sasha's definite self hatred. The trio HAD to split up to have any semblance of a friendship.

Amphibia tells its audience that not all good things can last, and if you obsess and force it to stay, it can destroy you.

The Owl House has a completely opposite moral. It tells you to find your people, and fight for them.

Luz lived in the Human Realm, but it was never her home. Her home was with Camila and Manny, but when Manny died, Camila and Luz's relationship began to falter. That world wasn't her home. When Luz found the Boiling Isles, she was always supposed to be able to leave. This wasn't a summer trip she didn't want at first, or a one way portal. The Boiling Isles was HER choice.

Luz picked Bonesburrow. Luz picked Hexside. Luz picked The Owl House. Her home was always meant to be The Boiling Isles. She only started trying to find a way back to Earth because the choice was taken from her. Luz no longer had the choice to go back to the Human Realm. In fact, the only time Luz chose Humans over Isles was when she was PUNISHING herself for helping Belos.

Luz got to stay in the Boiling Isles because TOH tells its audience that where you start isn't where you should always stay. Find your place and find your people. And when you do, hold it dear and never let go. "Us weirdos have to stick together."

[underdark-dreams]

This fic will explore the fanon of Tiefling rut/heat cycles: specifically, what happens when a stressed, overworked, sexually pent-up wizard is confronted with his own biology and his feelings about a certain hero all at once?

Thank you @rolansrighthorn for kindly beta reading this chapter!

Rolan x afab!Tav

Birds and Bees - Ch.1

The new Master of Ramazith's Tower hasn't been feeling well. Rolan isn't quite sure what's wrong with himself, but when Tav arrives back in Baldur's Gate, things get much worse.

Tags: Tiefling Ruts, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3.4k [Read on AO3]

Rolan awoke feeling sick as a dog. 

He pulled his legs over the edge of the mattress with a wince. The dull ache in his muscles was something he hadn't felt since those first weeks on the road out of Elturel.

He'd slept like hells the past few days; no doubt that was the cause. Once again, bizarre nightmares had left him gasping awake before dawn, covered in a clammy sheen of perspiration.

The dreams featuring Tav, however…

Rolan’s tail shuddered and flicked over the bedsheets behind him at the memory. He pushed those thoughts forcefully from his head. Tav was due back in Baldur’s Gate today—that was the last thing he should be thinking of when she arrived at Sorcerous Sundries.

She’d been away for over a week this time, gathering her materials in the Underdark. He wondered if that meant she'd have enough work to keep her in the city for longer, too. The thought encouraged him enough to rise and dress for the day. He should make sure her alchemy station was prepped and ready for her at the back of the shop, at least. 

Down on the main floor of Sorcerous Sundries, Rolan’s improved mood was instantly tested. Cal took in his face wide-eyed.

“You look awful.”

“And good morning to you,” Rolan responded irritably.

“Is it?” Cal trailed after him as he unlocked and threw open the wide front doors. “Rolan, maybe you need a day off. You look like you barely slept.”

“I'm fine,” Rolan said, voice firm. “Where’s Lia?”

Right as the words left him, a teacup appeared at his elbow.

“Had a feeling you might need it,” Lia told him. “Looks like I was right.”

Too tired to combat both his siblings at once this early in the day, Rolan accepted the tea with a begrudging sigh of thanks. The smell of bitter herbs hit his nose before he took the first sip.

“Doctoring me with folk remedies now?”

Lia waved a dismissive hand as she moved behind the counter. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you'd rather get fussed over by Tav. Can't have you dragging your tail and embarrassing us in front of her, though.”

Cal walked off with a snort.

Rolan shut his eyes and wished he could return straight back to bed. Instead, he drank his tea down in silence and said a prayer for an easy day of work.

He did find himself perking up after a while. It was difficult to stay sullen on such a glorious spring day; clear sunlight streamed generously through the high windows above, and the flow of customers milling into the shop settled into a pleasant, familiar hum. Rolan fell into the rhythm of assisting them here and there, locating scrolls and giving advice on spellwork.

It certainly wasn’t the prospect of seeing Tav again that was improving his mood so much. That’s what Rolan kept telling himself, at least.

Another breeze drifted in through the open atrium behind him, bringing with it the fresh scent of spring wildflowers. Rolan was taken with a sudden fancy to move closer to wherever it emanated from.

“Lovely morning, isn't it?”

Tav stood beaming at him from the doorway, despite the full-to-bursting pack slung over one of her shoulders. Clearly he wasn’t the only one affected by the irresistibly nice weather.

“It rather is,” Rolan agreed. Ignoring her usual protests, he unshouldered the bag from her with a tug; its weight made him question whether she’d stuffed it entirely with minerals.

“Ugh…thanks.” Tav stretched her arms back appreciatively. She was wearing a lightweight tunic, carelessly laced, and the motion strained the fabric over her chest. 

Rolan averted his gaze, feeling rather warm all of a sudden. He instead led Tav back to her workstation near the stairs.

“Looks busy in here,” she remarked with approval. “Business good?”

“Can’t complain. I take it your travels were as successful?” He punctuated the comment by landing her pack on the desk with a heavy thump. Tav laughed.

“Brilliant, actually. I've got a lot to show you, if you can spare the time.”

“Just give me a few minutes,” he answered, turning back to her.

Tav didn’t reply right away; she was frowning at his face. “Rolan, are you ill? You look flushed—” And she reached a hand as if to feel his forehead.

“Of course not,” Rolan answered, a bit too swiftly. Casting for an excuse to create some distance, he moved to the nearby reference shelves and began shoving the mess of books back into their correct cubbies. “Cal, could you grab another stack of the beginner’s Weave series? We’ve sold through.”

Cal looked up from his work rolling scroll pages. “Er, sure…which wing is that again?”

“Nevermind,” Rolan sighed. “I’ll get them myself. Let me know if your station’s missing any supplies,” he added to Tav, letting his voice soften a bit. It earned him a dimpling smile.

Rolan strode away from her toward the portal, feeling that annoying ache in his legs return as he did.

—

Tav watched Rolan’s figure trudge up the staircase with another twinge of concern. Then she set to work connecting all the equipment on her alchemy station. Lia appeared at her side before long, asking after her week’s travels in the Underdark and catching her up on news and gossip from the Gate. It was so nice to have friends like Lia; ones you could pick up right where you left off with.

Tav had emptied her bag onto her desk and begun sorting the small mountain of herbs into separate piles as she listened. “How’s Rolan been doing with everything, really?”

Lia was turning over one of her shards of laculite, idly catching the sunlight in its facets. “Mostly happy. And stressed, and overextended. And completely neurotic about organizing every shelf in the library. You know, typical wizard stuff.”

“I just hope he’s looking after himself,” she said down to her work. The words left her mouth easier than she wished.

Lia leaned a hip against her desk with arms crossed. “You sound interested in helping with that.”

The quake in Tav’s stomach made her feel very caught out, then very stupid. She let out an exhale of laughter instead.

“Rolan’s made it pretty clear that he is not,” she replied. Her fingers began stripping the blooms from her pile of dried mugwort with more force than strictly necessary.

“Between you and me,” Lia mused, “I don’t think Rolan’s anywhere near clear on that subject. Smart people can be real idiots, you know.”

“Who can?”

Rolan was headed from the staircase with an armful of books; he stood behind Lia with a suspicious look. Tav immediately wondered how much he’d heard.

“Rich people,” Lia answered at once, still leaning casually against Tav’s desk. “Lady Whitburn’s handmaid keeps coming in asking for spell scrolls that I’m pretty sure don’t exist. You think she’d get the picture by now.”

Rolan let out a long-suffering sigh and held out the stack of volumes to her. “Take these. And just send Cal to help her next time, that’s why she keeps coming back.”

Lia threw up a hand as if that only proved her point. “Like I said, idiots.” But with one last glance at Tav, she grabbed the books and ferried them away to the front of Sorcerous Sundries.

For her part, Tav resumed the work of preparing the week’s ingredients—there were several large batches of antidote to get through this morning. Rolan took up his usual spot at the desk in her periphery. 

Ever since the first week he’d offered Sorcerous Sundries to her as a home of operations for her alchemy, Tav found herself spending many hours at work beside Rolan like this. They spent the time talking about her travels, or his latest studies with the Weave, or just discussing the last books they’d read. On busier days, he was called away to help customers for most of her visit.

Today, however, Rolan stood unusually silent next to her.

“Sure you’re feeling all right?” She glanced at his back, again noting the tense line of his shoulders.

“Just a bit tired.” Rolan tipped open his massive record of the shop figures. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I could make you something for that, if you like.”

He gave a low huff of laughter as he took up his quill. “From what I hear from my customers, I’d be out cold for days.”

“Really?” She couldn’t help a grin of professional pride, but focused on adjusting the flame under her distilling glass. “Glad they’re selling well.”

“I can barely keep them on the shelves, especially those remedial draughts you make. The last batch lasted three days.”

Though it was satisfying to hear, Tav felt a bit chagrined. “Damn…won’t have more of those for a while. I still need to track down a new materials trader in the Gate. My usual guy moved on to Neverwinter.”

There was a short pause in their little corner, filled only with the sounds of softly bubbling liquid against glass.

“You know,” Rolan said without turning, “you’re welcome to stay here, if it’s easier for you. The guest room’s always empty. That is, so you wouldn’t have to travel across the city on top of finding your new contact.”

“Oh—” Tav tried hard not to read anything into his offer. “Actually, I already left my things with Danis and Bex. But thank you, Rolan,” she added.

Rolan coughed lightly, back still turned. “Of course.” 

There was another pause, longer and strangely awkward. Tav suddenly found she needed something more to occupy her thoughts than watching a flask boil. Reaching down for her pack, she pulled her research journal up to the desk.

It had been many weeks since Rolan brought up that subject. Why now?

Cal and Lia constantly reminded her of the long-standing offer of a room in the Tower anytime she had need of it. For unspoken reasons, she’d always found polite ways of declining.

It wasn’t that Rolan had made her feel unwelcome in any way. After all, he’d opened up the expansive resources of Ramazith’s Tower to her use, lending her all of the delicate and expensive alchemy equipment that she’d never be able to cart back and forth in her travels. She owed much of her current success to his generosity.

But Rolan had proven himself a generous patron for all kinds of arcane arts as Master of Ramazith’s Tower. Really, what made her think she was any kind of special case?

The fact that she’d very much like to be that to him…well.

That was something Tav tried not to think about. It only led her to dangerous territory, such as staring at his hands while he worked a spell and wondering what else they might be good for. Hardly conducive to a friendly, professional relationship. 

And if she was any good at reading signals, friendly but professional was how Rolan wanted to keep things.

Tav shuffled through her notes a bit too briskly and almost scattered them. That was enough dwelling on that subject; clearly, Rolan had plenty to think about without worrying about unwanted advances in his own home. The least she could do to repay his generosity would be to continue respecting his boundaries.

“Noblestalk propagation?”

She glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, Rolan had moved closer to peer down at the top page in her hands with curiosity.

“Most valuable thing in the Underdark,” she told him. “Even more than mithril. Actually, this is what I wanted to show you—”

Noblestalk fetched a high price for its alchemical power, certainly, but also for its rarity. The delicate mushrooms were notoriously picky about where they grew; it was part of what made them so hard to find. 

Truth be told, she’d been running a little experiment on them down in the Underdark over the past few months. She ran a finger across the charted results as she explained them to Rolan, whose tension seemed to vanish as he listened on with keen interest.

“Obviously the spores took faster in high humidity. But look, they actually did better when I transplanted them in a really cold spot near the river here—which is so odd, most fungi need a bit of warmth—

“Have you tried recreating these artificially? Carrying a sample back to the surface?”

“Not yet.” She scratched her chin in thought. “I’d need to find somewhere underground to propagate it. And I’d rather not spend any more time in the sewers, after that little cult business.”

“Just do it here,” Rolan dismissed, as if it was the plainly obvious solution. “We’ve got quite a few empty vaults now. Shouldn’t be too hard to repurpose one as a greenhouse of sorts.”

As she turned her head to respond, she was caught up short. 

Rolan was still peering intently at her writing. But in his concentration, he’d angled his body very close beside her. His chest nearly brushed her shoulder. She could’ve counted the freckles dusting his nose.

When he reached forward to flip over the page, she felt his other hand actually rest on the far side of her waist—the absent way you might touch someone very familiar to you when moving past them. Heat rose in her cheeks at the gesture.

Perhaps Rolan felt her tense. He blinked, and she watched realization dart over his features. He stepped back at once.

“Apologies.” Then he cleared his throat to add—“Your work is quite engaging.”

Coming from him, the words sounded much nicer than they had a right to. She felt her flush deepening, and quickly turned back to reorder her notes. 

“Thanks,” she laughed, praying it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt rising in her throat.

Behind her back, she heard Rolan return to his desk on her left. Presumably continuing his work on the Sundries inventory; more likely trying to ignore her obvious fluster. 

She clenched her jaw in an attempt to shove that same stupid, fluttery feeling out of her stomach, and returned to the practical work at hand. 

—

Rolan stared down at last week’s sales in his ledger. The figures were a blur of meaningless scribbles in front of his eyes.

Was he feverish? Seriously ill? There had to be a sound explanation for the way he’d just…laid hands on her like that, unthinking. 

He clenched the guilty right hand responsible, feeling its sharp nails press crescent moons into his palm. Idiot. He took a deep breath to regain his composure. 

It only caused that lovely wildflower scent from before to fill his lungs more completely, pulling at his other senses. Perhaps it was emanating from one of the many strange ingredients Tav was always carrying back from the Underdark. Was that what had muddled his mind this way?

He found himself glancing back over his shoulder to where she was bent over her alchemy scales. The pink tip of her tongue was visible between her teeth, a gesture she often made when concentrating.

As Rolan watched, a lock of her hair slipped forward over her shoulder. She swept it absently back behind her ear. The innocuous motion caused another wave of something floral to brush past his face, stronger this time.

“Are you wearing scent?”

Tav glanced up from the powder she was weighing out, brows raised in question. “What?”

“Nothing,” Rolan said swiftly, shaking himself back to rights a bit. He felt very lucky she seemed to have misheard. He turned back to his work before he could say anything else strange or embarrassing.

With effort, Rolan forced his attention back to the comforting logic of sums and figures. 

The time passed with blessed uneventfulness after that. The soft sounds of glassware and bubbling liquids from Tav’s alchemy faded to an idle lull at the back of Rolan’s consciousness. Nevertheless, he pushed through the past month’s numbers with more difficulty than usual, scratching through multiple errors as his quill moved over the page. He occasionally had to pause to rub at an uncomfortable crick building in his neck.

A laugh came from behind him. “Do you mind?”

Rolan raised his head to look. Tav was gesturing at the corner of her alchemy station with a bemused expression. 

To his own confusion, he found that his tail had traveled there of its own accord sometime in the past minutes. It lay coiled on the wood, its tip flicking back and forth in her direction, as if seeking her attention.

With another chuckle, Tav’s fingers closed around it and lightly dropped the appendage off the edge of her desk.

An involuntary sound caught in Rolan’s throat. The moment her hand connected with his skin, a shock of blood rushed to his groin. He nearly tipped forward in alarm at the feeling.

The rapid redirection left his legs wobbling and bloodless. His knees almost buckled under him; he gripped sharp claws into the edge of his wooden desk to steady himself. 

As the ringing in his ears cleared, he heard Tav reading under her breath behind him while she ground something against her mortar. Praise the gods that whatever just happened to his body had escaped her notice.

“Need a book from the library—”

Without a backward glance, Rolan stumbled toward the stairs.

Spurred on by the knowledge that any customers who might notice his urgent departure would certainly see the reason for it, he strode on double-time for the portal. Only once the swirl of Weave closed behind him, depositing him in the quiet of the Tower, did he release the breath caught up in his lungs.

Seeking to ground himself, Rolan glanced up to watch the golden dust motes drift through a beam of sunlight. It was the strangest sensation to be standing completely still and feel a sweat break out over his brow.

How did he not realize days ago? Muscle aches—difficulty sleeping—heightened senses. All clear indicators that his biology had finally caught up with him, albeit a solid year later than it should have.

Rolan gripped a hand to the back of his head with a groan of realization. Not perfume—it had been Tav herself he kept catching scent of this morning. That sweet smell that practically made his mouth water to recall now was nothing but raw instinct laid bare.

Well, he had no right to complain about the timing. Apparently many frantic months of escaping the Hells, surviving on the road, and battling back an invasion from the Astral Plane had done a lot to delay the inevitable. 

But inevitable it was, and as of today, very much inescapable. There was never really a convenient time for this sort of thing, was there?

It could be worse—as the new keeper of Ramazith’s Tower, at least he found himself with private quarters to retreat to for the entirety of it. If he was lucky, it would all be over in a week, and then he could go on ignoring this unfortunate side effect of his Infernal heritage for a few more uneventful years. 

Lia and Cal could manage the shop for a week without any major calamities, surely?

As Rolan paced the silk carpets of the Tower floor, he forced his feverish mind to finish scrabbling together the plan. His gaze fell on the desk by the window. In the next second, he was putting shaking quill to parchment. Something simple, just enough they’d understand—

Bad week for visitors. Please mind the Sundries while I recover. Tell Tav 

The tip of his quill skipped as he paused, letting a droplet of ink bleed into the page. 

Tell Tav what, exactly? That he was in his room rutting his brains out like an animal in heat? Likely thinking of her while he did?

That line of thought brought a series of unhelpful and very stimulating images to mind. He swallowed down a humiliating sound as the stiffness between his legs grew painfully hard in reaction. Merciful, bloody hells.

Tell Tav nothing, he finished in a scrawl. Rolan folded the note and deposited it on the floor just in front of the portal, where it would be impossible for his siblings to miss. 

Then he turned for the staircase to his bedroom, already mad to rip these chafing gods-damned robes off his skin.

[a-d-nox]

pac: mid-year reflection - what have you accomplished and what should you be working on for the rest of the year?

i'm trying something new, a pick a card. take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: what exists before you that you can't see?

masterlist of pap/pac posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

pile one

accomplished: you have fought past a hard time within your family. you broke free from the expectations and control you felt from them - good for you paving your own path!! you are now ready for the next level. continue to recharge and heal mentally as you prepare yourself for what is next. have faith you did the right thing - there is no going back now. continue to seek out inspiration for actions - and acting accordingly to your inspiration. you are steadily working towards achieving something just for yourself. just remember to remain flexible and have some patience for yourself.

still working on: you still have to work on your authority and stability - its not so improved that you can just move on. it's a process. practice being calm despite the chaos - manage your anxiety/stress. trust that you are mature enough to handle yourself and your situation. it's all about confidence, so get in touch with yours. don't be afraid to kick things up a notch. you have to practice stepping outside your comfort zone if you want to see some serious growth. at the same time, it wouldn't hurt you to take a break and take a step back from time to time (don't push yourself - you'll find yourself burnt out). you also have to work on not feeling so stuck - the past is in the past, nothing is guaranteed, fitting in is overrated, you aren't competing with anyone - that is all in your mind, and (this one you might not be ready for) your loneliness is likely self imposed (put yourself out there). take back your power in that regard! take some small steps towards what you truly want and you will feel a whole lot better before 2025.

pile two

accomplished: you have finally stopped putting so much pressure on yourself. it's such a relief! i know you are a perfectionist but it gets exhausting, no? but now you can see it's just not productive to continually compare yourself to others and now you are free. keep happily say "no" while focusing on what truly brings you joy. i feel like it's also a good thing you have lower your bar for yourself. high hopes are good but not to the detriment of your mental health and self-image. delays are okay - it's okay if you're vision is not true to reality; its probably healthier this way so keep reminding yourself that. just keep working and you will get what you need and where you need to be.

still working on: keep working on connecting with your intuition. start reconnecting with your gut - stop relying on others and allowing them to influence you. also it is imperative that you let go of whatever it is that you are clinging to. change only comes when you accept endings. surrendering what is leaving or has left allows for peace and gratitude for what still remains - so stop clinging, surrender, and create space in your life for new things. embrace some spontaneity in your life - something is about to happen and you just need to say "yes" (which sounds crazy when you read the accomplished section but you will know your say "yes" opportunity when you work past your disconnect with your gut). maybe it's travel, maybe a person, etc. say yes, take a chance. ride a wave.

pile three

accomplished: i am very proud of you. i feel like you're saving for something and are being proactive with your finances instead of spending unnecessarily. that or you are feeling a bit more stabilized and secure in a situation that was bothering you earlier in the year. you just have to keep trusting that you have what you need. give some credit to yourself for your hard work. i also feel like you learned something extremely important that really had a profound influence/impact on you these last 6 months. maybe you met someone who is helping you to be wiser about how you live life and appreciate life too. you could also be moving past something that really disappointed you or hurt your feelings. you aren't too hurt by the past to not try again - you have hope once more. your emotions are no longer stagnant or restricted as they once were. keep up the good work!

still working on: you haven't been working on something that you have been planning to - it's time you stop pushing it off and get to work. stop being so frustrated and impatient with yourself due to the lack of progress you are making. be real with yourself and stop procrastinating then you will have no reason to be frustrated. otherwise, it might be time you adjust your expectations. start doing what you love again. hard work, no matter daunting it may be, will pay off when it's something you believe in. hell even if its small bits of progress, it's better than nothing. some progress will improve your spirits. life will get in your way to test how badly you really want something oftentimes. there is something to gain in breaks and stillness - start waiting around when you finally realize what it is.

[felmonth]

(Edited and slightly better developed! Will be updated until further notice)

Hey, neighbors! I am alive! XD

AAAAH! I finally managed to finish Tom's sheet, but for Au "Actors," the author of this AU is @ frillsand. I've been wanting to create drawings related to this AU for a while now, and there are still comics that I want to share.

Wally won my heart -cries- 😭💘, of course, haha. I'll be sharing with you all the comics that come to mind regarding this AU.

WARNING: Before proceeding, this may contain sensitive content, you have been warned. I hope you enjoy the extended blog and the extra mini-comic to lighten the mood.

Well without anything else to say about it...let's start with Tom Sweetheart, the stylist!!

Tom Actor's Story:

In a town called "Titirilquén," Tom Sweetheart grew up alongside his mother and brother Diego Sweetheart. They depended on each other for everything. They didn't own a television, but they would find TVs on in stores where mostly there were news and interviews with celebrities. Both of them dreamed of becoming actors inspired by the experiences shared by those celebrities on television. Their school further fueled their interests, as it offered a theater subject and a variety of art-related courses.

At school, Diego exhibited a captivating personality in his school theater performances, earning admiration from everyone. However, Diego felt uncomfortable because nobody paid attention to his brother, who was also improving with each performance and costume. Therefore, Diego decided to involve his brother in everything to make him stand out just like himself...

Over time, the school grants Diego a special scholarship that involves working in one of the largest studios in Titirilquen despite being very young. This news greatly delights Diego, so he mentions it to his brother about this opportunity to become what they wanted to be at that time. Unfortunately, those who gave Diego the opportunity were very disappointed when he brought Tom to work with him, so they reluctantly accepted Tom only because Diego requested it.

When Diego was not around Tom, they assigned him different tasks than what an actor should do, completely deviating from the agenda that Tom had planned for the week. This led him to become overloaded with tasks, but he didn't complain because he thought it had to happen when living the life of an actor.

Diego and Tom were the first young actors (They were about 20 years old, Diego 22 and Tom 20) in the Titirilquén studio. They initially performed in a few presentations for a museum, and then the director decided to create a program with them. Both did their best until they became somewhat more known thanks to the news in their town, and Tom was no longer as ignored as when he first joined. They reached a broader audience, leading them to want to learn more about the people in their town. So, they started learning sign language and refining their voices for musical sections to begin a small program aimed at families.

Both were directed by the same assistant, "Ron," but due to unforeseen circumstances, he had to retire because he had to move to another country for another job opportunity where he could earn more money to support his family. They had a new assistant, a woman named "Jenny" (She was 24 but was not interested in working with puppets.) and from this moment, problems arose. The new assistant was serious and easily stressed when the director had to tell her what to do. As a result, she left the job of directing to the two young actors.

This assistant was starting to have too many problems with the brothers, she envied that both brothers mentioned the previous assistant's actions. However, they did not say this with bad intentions but rather so that he could do his job well, since the director was demanding regarding what should be on the schedule of both brothers. Over time, the work environment between them improved, but something was missing in the assistant's life, the brothers did not say many things to her or chat with her, but instead spoke only among themselves.

One day, Jenny overheard a conversation between the two brothers about the previous assistant. Jenny misinterpreted this as a threat to her job and felt worthless to both brothers. He decided to come up with a plan with his fellow students. The plan was to put one of the brothers in a problematic situation so that she could do something to help them and get recognition for it because according to her, the brothers did not value her.

The chosen target was Tom, as Jenny considered him weak and incapable. After finishing his singing section of the show, Tom left the studio to take a break and have a drink.

He noticed that his co-workers near a restaurant were calling him to chat, Tom without noticing any suspicion in them, approached them with great joy, because he admired what his co-workers were doing in the studio.

And being recognized and starting a conversation by them was a great joy for Tom, since he always lived underestimated as just a simple doll who cannot stand out among humans.

Unfortunately, there were ulterior motives. While they were talking to Tom normally, they took him behind the studio, which looked like an alley, and there a cruel scare developed. These coworkers mentioned negative things when they entered the alley and Tom felt uncomfortable by his coworkers' sudden mood swings. He tried to back away, but was easily caught. While saying negative things, they gradually destroyed parts of his body, including arms, legs, wrists, and fingers. They showed no concern for the little puppet's screams and fear because, to them, he was just a doll that couldn't feel pain, or so they claimed, they made fun of him for being too dramatic when he screamed.

When this situation came to an end, the group of companions left, leaving him alone, Tom remained on the ground, crying without understanding how the situation took such a sudden turn. Just a few moments ago everything was fine and now he was helpless on the ground, motionless. He could only see the cotton sticking out of his body and his limbs outside his body, he could only move his head at the moment, he felt completely useless. He prayed that his brother would find him and help him, but then Jenny appeared, pretending to be worried about Tom. She helped him in this terrible situation and took him to the emergency tailoring service.

Now, with Tom recovered, he was mentally depressed and shattered. He looked at his stitched-up body and felt very insecure about venturing into the streets inhabited by humans. He didn't want to go through a similar situation again, so his only support rested on Jenny.

Tom was immensely grateful to her for helping him in this terrible and stressful situation. After a few long minutes of silence, he told his assistant that he didn't want to continue his acting career. This surprised Jenny, but she said nothing and just listened, offering ideas. She felt quite good about helping Tom in these moments of stress. She informed the director about this decision, and of course, he was very concerned and saddened, especially when Tom requested not to inform his brother.

When Tom was discharged on the same day as the accident, he didn't want to go home because a thought crossed his mind: he had always depended on his brother and was only causing him problems. So, with a heavy heart, he decided to distance himself from his brother. The assistant supported all of Tom's ideas, including the idea of complete separation. She was happy that Tom depended on her, so she found him a job outside the country without consulting him.

From Diego's perspective, after the accident, he found it strange that his brother didn't appear on the show. He asked the director why there were sudden changes in the program and why his brother wasn't there. The director decided to be tough with him, saying they hired him and not his brother. He gave Diego new rules for the new direction of the show. Diego was devastated by this news. He considered quitting his job but thought better of it; he wanted to see his brother at home.

When he arrived home, there were no traces of his brother or his belongings. He tried calling him, but there was no phone coverage. In his desperation, he contacted the authorities to inquire about his brother, but they only started working after at least two days of being missing.

This situation was stressful for Diego and his mother. They were very worried and considered various possibilities of what might have happened. Tom decided not to tell them anything when offered a call by the authorities and declared that he wouldn't return home. His family was concerned because they heard a weak voice through the phone, but it was all they could do as the studio was too secretive with the information.

Both brothers remained separated for a long time. For Diego, nothing was the same without Tom, and the show looked depressing. Despite this, he maintained a forced smile for his audience. Children asked a lot about his brother, leading him into deep depression.

Tom, moved to another country, working in a new studio as a stylist. He adopted a fearful, anxious, and panicked attitude, afraid of everyone. To distract himself, he overloaded himself with work, trying to maintain composure by breathing deeply. He couldn't stop thinking about his family, and he knew what he was doing wasn't healthy, but he wanted to stay away for a while.

Well, that's roughly the story. It's long, but I feel that now it's better understood than before. Thanks for staying to read and loving Tom Actor! -cries-

Curious facts about Titirilquén today:

Lately, I've been hooked on a series called "31 minutos," so I included some things from that series. I highly recommend it, it's in Spanish, but there are English subtitles available. Titirilquén is from that show.

Titirilquén doesn't have hospitals because literally no one gets sick there. However, there are places like Mrs. Juanita's service, who takes care of the damaged puppets in this town.

Titirilquén was a town of only puppets but tired of being anonymous and as an unknown town, they decided to include people in their town, building a civilization, the negative of the town only benefits the humans that its own puppet inhabitants.

Facts about Tom:

(Diego's data was deleted to create his respective sheet)

He is 27 years old now.

He speak spanish but he learned English thanks to Jenny.

He is very naive, and that works against him, as he decides to trust everyone.

He has a puppet friend in this studio and his name is Lulu but he affectionately calls him "Wolfy" After going through hell with Jenny, he dates Wolfy but that's when he realizes he doesn't want a romantic relationship.

When he first arrived at the studio, the studio people confused him with Wally, so since that day, some just call him "Pink Wally." (This is due to his height, skin tone and hair shape, so Tom changed his look to messier hair to not look like Wally)

Tom is a very good worker, but he always hides after finishing his work and doesn't get distracted by anything while working. If a human talks to him, he ignores them, but if it's a puppet, he takes time to chat.

Despite hiding, he is found by children, most of whom are human.

He misses being an actor but is very afraid.

Alongside his brother, they worked on a children's educational program called "Sing until Counting to 3." They taught children songs that included sign language. However, when they leave, the program is completely forgotten by the director.

Tom and Diego are not the same height, Jack has to bend down to hug and talk to him.

Tom usually wears makeup, always in pink or fuchsia, which is his favorite color.

Tom often sees little due to his poor eyesight, so he sometimes needs glasses to see clearly, but he usually doesn't use them because he finds them unnecessary.

Tom has fallen in love with Jenny because of her concern for him but by the time they are "boyfriend and girlfriend" Jenny ignores him, she is with him out of pity. Sometimes Jenny yells at him and hits him when he is loving with her.

As you can see, Tom is afraid of humans, and you rarely find him crying in studio places where people don't live, or even paranoid. If you find him in this situation, make him feel comfortable because he is completely unstable at that moment.

People consider him strange and curious because he often hides and is fearful, and they don't understand why he behaves like that. (It doesn't mean he avoids bad situations with the studio's humans; some of them respect the puppets, while others decide to hate them.)

Tom in this Au has a human brother, in the style of muppet protagonists. His name is Diego Sweetheart and they are both very close and have achieved many things together by working as a team. Diego is very attentive to his puppet brother, caring for him and trying to understand him as best he can.

Will Tom manage to become an actor again? Will his life improve? Will his brother Jack locate him after a long time? Will Tom continue to call himself unfortunate? Find out in the next episode... *Felmonth bids farewell to the viewers watching the video.*

NOW, COMIC! YAY!!

Title: "First unlucky day"

Reference movie: "White Chicks"

I don't know what Janet's design is like, I didn't find any reference, so I made it with what I found.

And well that was all, I hope you liked everything, I did the best I could and as always if there are questions ask without problems.

Bye byeeee!

Extra: It is assumed that in this unplanned part, Wally told Tom "Consider yourself unlucky for working with me from now on." (No canon for me xD but extra)

Bye uwu)/💐

[bellestarot]

Pick a pile

July 2024 Predictions

♡ Take your time to choose.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile I

What do I need to know about the month of July?

Pile number 1, The month of July will be a time when you will be very focused on your work or a project you started and will finish during this month. You will learn more about working in a group and will also be making new friends.

You will be tested in dealing with your emotions and ambitions, as not everything you want will come when you desire. So, you will learn to wait and not make hasty decisions about various situations that may be related to work or personal life, but it will be a test of your patience.

How will my love life be this month?

"Dancing Queen" by ABBA started playing in my head when I asked about your love life in July. You might be going through a rejection or a relationship that didn't work out. Or you may still be hurt by what happened in the past after a breakup.

But I have good news: when you manage to move on and understand that you have many opportunities and possibilities to find love again, your life will work out. I see you happy, I see this song playing in the places you go. Pain and loneliness may be part of the process, but they cannot last too long. So, you will get through this and will be able to move on because I see that there are people and stories to be written about love in your life again.

What is the best path to financial success this month?

The best path to financial success is to have patience. I see that this pile is for people who sometimes don't handle frustration very well, and this could be a test so that better things can come and things can get right in your life.

Maybe you have gone through a difficult situation financially or in your career, something that hurt you, but the cards here ask that you do not lose hope, do not lose your dreams and ambitions—they are still there.

Perhaps you have lost people you were working with for a long time, and they are now distant or have been laid off. But I want you to understand that things will improve. I see that it is an acceptable pain, but you have to let go for new things to come, new opportunities are on the way.

What health precautions should I take this month?

You need to exercise more and take care of your entire body. You should go for walks, runs, and also drink more water. Eat healthy foods such as fruits like melon and banana. Improve your diet to enhance your health.

What spiritual or practical advice can I follow to grow during this period?

What I see here spiritually is that you should leave where you are and explore the world, getting to know new places and learn every day to balance your emotions and your logic without letting one outweigh the other.

⊲ Ⅱ ⊳

Pile II

What do I need to know about the month of July?

In pile number 2, July will be about this: You'll be speaking more, I mean saying exactly what you want to say. You'll work a lot on your throat chakra, and you'll manage to express what bothers you, what you want to change, and your feelings about a certain situation. So, the situation will be resolved.

Right now it might seem pending in your head, but it will be resolved, and you'll see that the effort you're putting into any situation will be very worthwhile, you'll mature and learn a lot during this month of July.

What will my love life be like this month?

Maybe some people won't identify with the romantic situation in pile 2 during July. But I see something ending here, I see ego clashes, I see narcissism being exposed, and I see that neither side is winning this battle; both are losing, and these two people will go their separate ways.

Perhaps this applies to a relationship that is already heading towards wear and tear or not. But I see that other people are also involved in this relationship's turbulence. I'm not sure of their exact role, maybe friends or relatives, but I think these people are there, and I see that with a broken heart for some reason that I can't identify, you'll prefer to be alone.

You'll want solitude, you won't want to seek out someone at this moment; it's not your focus, it's not what you want.

What is the best path to financial success this month?

I see that you have a very relevant position in your job. I see that during July, you'll be able to work well, balancing your tasks and projects; you'll be able to profit a lot from it. Maybe you have your own investment, so I see that you'll be working with other people, and you'll be able to achieve your goals. It might take a while in terms of waiting for results, but I see these results coming, and you and the people you trust in your work environment will achieve something very positive. I see celebration, I see you reclaiming your power.

What health precautions should I take this month?

I get a message to take care of your back. Maybe you have scoliosis or need more comfortable and adaptable beds for your back situation, so I see that you need to pay more attention to this area of your body.

What spiritual or practical advice can I follow to grow during this period?

Continue to empower yourself, be the woman you want to be and that you inspire. Be open to new relationships; there are people genuinely interested in you. Be open to meetings and going out with new people.

And it's okay to rest from time to time.

⊲ Ⅱ ⊳

Pile III

What do I need to know about the month of July?

During the month of July, it will be emphasized that you need to have fun and be yourself 100%. This will manifest in various ways in your life.

How will my love life be this month?

In July, you will be increasingly open to meeting new people. I see many romantic interests and relationships you might have with some people. You will be stepping out of your comfort zone and available to meet different people. One could be someone your age or younger, and another could be someone more responsible, with serious intentions of having a serious relationship with you.

What is the best path to financial success this month?

Pile 3 If you are looking for a job, I have to inform you that this opportunity will arrive during the month of July. I see you getting this job quite quickly, on a day you least expect it, and you will be very happy with this opportunity.

If you are already employed, I have to inform you that both your career and your finances will bring positive news. You will stand out more at work. You will get more attention for your projects, and I see many of the things you are planning being realized.

What precautions should I take with my health this month?

Maybe you have many insecurities regarding your appearance, or perhaps you have many fast thoughts and need to seek therapeutic help from a psychologist to work on this. I see that you might type a lot, maybe work with typing, and have many tasks to do. The tarot is asking you to pay attention to these areas, both mental and some physical, related to your daily life.

What spiritual or practical advice can I follow to grow during this period?

You should have fun. Pay attention to your emotions and mental health. If you feel it is affecting you, seek help to better work through some memories from the past.

⊲ Ⅱ ⊳

Pile IV

What do I need to know about the month of July?

The month of July will reveal much about your relationships, whether romantic, friendships, or professional connections, and how you handle them with strength.

How will my love life be this month?

If you intend to have a serious relationship with someone, it is likely to happen. I see that you think seriously about dating someone before deciding on a date, especially if the person is younger or appears very mature. Moving forward in this manner might lead you to someone quite different. This person could be your ideal partner, and it seems like you both will be completely in love. I see this as a lasting and happy relationship where this person will help you grow and mature together.

What is the best path to financial success this month?

In July, you will be surrounded by others in your career or while managing your finances. You have a sweet and emotional disposition, which can be positive for your career, but sometimes you need to be firm and speak more sternly to be heard. Your efforts will be rewarded in the end, although you might be distancing yourself from a colleague due to something they said that hurt you. However, this won't be a major issue in your career this month.

What health precautions should I take this month?

If you exercise and take care of your health, this will bring positive results in July. Continuing with your health routines will significantly improve your well-being. Overall, the advice is more about maintaining your current practices rather than making major changes, except perhaps moderating your alcohol intake. The outlook is generally positive.

What spiritual or practical advice should I follow to grow during this period?

You should assert yourself more. You may take a trip soon, and you will eventually have the family you dream of with your loved one. However, be cautious of people around you, especially at work, who may have bad intentions. They might withhold important information or propose partnerships that could result in financial losses. Pay attention to a male figure around you.

⋯

We made it to the end! Thanks for joining in on this tarot reading for July. Here's hoping it's all good vibes and we tackle any hurdles stress-free.😆☺️😘

[elspethdekarios]

You Deserve To Be Loved

From a smutty prompt list! Gale gets a BJ after a looooong time of not having one.

This is my first time writing a gender neutral tav, feedback welcome if there's anything I can improve on!

Read below the cut or on AO3.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Gale/Tav (gender neutral)

CW: smut, oral sex, blowjob, outdoor sex

Ketheric was dead. Tav should be happy—and they were happy to have conquered such an impossible task. Leaving the once-cursed lands was bittersweet. The plants began to bloom, the sky began to brighten, but Tav and their companions wouldn’t be able to see the full transformation. As the cult of the Absolute marched towards Baldur’s Gate, they had to follow close behind. Still, it was nice to know they made a difference. Yes, Tav was happy for that. But one thing played on repeat in their mind.

The night that Tav and Gale spent together was incredible. Life-changing, even. Tav had never felt a love so deep and raw and real. To know Gale felt the same, and to share their devotion with each other… the intimacy of that night was unmatched in Tav’s book. And they were quite certain that Gale would agree. They professed their love for each other that night, and every night since, even though truly private moments weren’t as bountiful as they hoped. Their shared bond was a beacon of light in the dark lands. Gale had even mentioned that there was no love lost between him and Mystra, that he was beginning to understand that he was merely one of many mortal playthings. 

And yet, when they stood before the Elder Brain together, he was ready to blow himself up for her. Just like that. No discussion, no hesitation. 

“I don’t have a choice,” he had said.

Tav’s heart felt torn into shreds, and they begged him: “Choose me. The one who loves you.”

“I love you, too,” Gale replied, and Tav watched the solemn determination in his eyes turn into bewilderment, then regret, and finally, acceptance. 

They were at a new camp now, one just outside of Rivington. It was their biggest camp yet, which meant that everyone was afforded a little more privacy than normal. Tav and Gale sat on the roof of the abandoned stone building, sharing a bottle of wine, while their companions headed to bed. The twinkling stars felt so close, like Tav could reach out and catch one in their hand. Gale’s arm around them shielded the chilly breeze, and they leaned in to nuzzle his neck. Gale smiled, ruffling Tav’s hair playfully, and then smoothing it down gently, pressing a kiss to their ear.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen the stars,” he said. “The real stars, anyway.”

“Too long,” said Tav, the wine starting to pulse warm through their veins. They hooked a finger on the collar of Gale’s soft, purple shirt, pulling it down just slightly.

“The wine’s gotten hold of you, then?” he joked, but his voice was sultry.

“A little. Mostly, it’s you. And me. Alone up here….”

Gale didn’t need much more of an invitation. He grasped Tav’s head between his hands and kissed them deeply, desperately. Soon they were a tangle of limbs on the stone floor, Gale straddling Tav and fumbling with their belt. Tav reached down and stopped Gale’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Tav said, guiding Gale’s hand to the firm impression of his own cock. He bit his lip and let out a soft moan as Tav slid their hands over the fabric, up and down the length of him. “Let me please you.”

Tav moved from underneath Gale and stood above him, holding out a hand to help him up. He raised an eyebrow at them, a devious grin on his lips. “What are you—?”

Tav had Gale pinned against the wall before he could finish his question, their lips kissing down his neck, his chest, kneeling and lifting up his shirt to kiss the dark hair that trailed downwards. Their fingers worked quickly to unlace his pants, and his cock sprung out, hard and warm and ready. Tav sighed as they took him in their hand, and Gale let out a guttural noise as they ran their tongue along the sensitive underside of him.

“Love,” he said breathlessly. “Please don’t feel obligated.”

“I don’t feel obligated.” Tav repeated the movement, flattening their tongue and lingering at his tip. They closed their lips around it for a split second, savoring the salty bead of moisture that had been building. Gale moaned louder this time and slid a hand through Tav’s hair.

“Only if you want to.”

“I want to, Gale. When’s the last time someone did this for you?” Tav held him firm in their hand still, massaging circles right beneath the head with their thumb.

Gale hesitated before answering. “I… I don’t know. Before… she… we never….”

“Never?” Tav asked.

Gale shook his head. “It’s been at least ten years. Maybe more.”

Tav paused for a moment, letting the silence mark the devotion of their next words. “Let me show you what it means to be loved, Gale. You deserve to be loved.”

Tav kept their head angled to look up at him, locking eyes and not breaking their gaze as they licked the length of him again and slowly took his cock into their mouth. It was Gale who broke eye contact, letting his head fall back against the wall as the pleasure washed over him. He groaned, moving both hands to Tav’s head—not to keep them there, but to support. To show that he wanted this, he wanted them. His hips began to rock rhythmically with the movement, his cock going deeper into Tav’s mouth with each thrust. Tav devoured him. They kept their hand at the base of his shaft, moving in unison with their mouth. Tav had never seen Gale lose his composure like this, his breaths quick and heavy, his legs quivering. Tav pushed their forearms against his thighs to steady him against the wall.

“My love, I… I can’t last much longer,” he whimpered. “Are you sure you—”

Tav kept their rhythm steady, sliding their mouth and hand along the length of him with determination, looking up to see Gale’s eyes. He was theirs, completely under their spell, existing in that moment for nothing and no one but Tav. With a series of cries and moans, he came, Tav swallowing as he released, relishing in his ecstasy. When they finally pulled away, Gale slid down the wall to sit, pulling Tav into an embrace. They sat between his knees, his wet cock still exposed.

“You are incredible,” he said, wiping away a drop of his seed from the corner of their mouth. “I don’t think anyone has ever desired me so strongly before.”

Tav took Gale’s lips gently between their own, caressing his face with their hand. 

“You deserve it.”

[saikoucorps]

:ఌ¨ ♱ DATING NEITO MONOMA

☆ warnings : none!

☆ tags : gn!reader, fluff, monoma can pull

☆ summary : crush to dating hcs

CRUSH :

Before you guys would start dating he'd copy your quirk just to help you out. Sometimes, he doesn't even explain why he's helping you.

If you're in class 1-A, he never talks bad about you, infact he admires you openly.

The whole class can tell he favorites you..

He's automatically calmer around you, but it doesn't stop him from making snarky remarks at class 1-A

Literally will find a way to cling to you and say something like, "You should be proud you're standing next to me!"

If you're around, he'll automatically try to impress you.

Whether that's by not insulting class 1-A or just using his quirk in a cool way.

Would do crazy stunts and then say "That was too easy."

He would tease you for your interests..

But then secretly learn them later that night.

EASILY FLUSTERED.

If you complimented him he wouldn't know what to say, he'd try to play it off then quickly brag to everyone that YOU complimented him.

He's huge on giving compliments.

He will compliment you out loud and EVERYONE will know.

He can be pretty obvious about his crush on you..

But if anyone tried to mention it, he'd deny it and say you weren't "worth" dating him. (You totally are.)

He can be a huge flirt, but usually insults you to mask how obvious it is.

Makes everything a competition.

Especially between you and him

Borderline stalker. Not on purpose.. I think.

He's able to read people very easily, so if you were upset, he'd try to make that day easier for you.. it really isn't noticeable, though. At all.

He absolutely would not confess to you first. You'd have to.

And if you did, he'd say, "I knew you liked me, I'm amazing."

But he'd accept your confession without hesitation.

And when you two start dating, he makes it KNOWN you guys are.

No one is surprised.

DATING :

The compliments NEVER left.

Neither did the insults.

He has no filter ever, even when he's dating you.

If you're geuinley upset at something he said, he'd try to reassure you that he was only trying to help you improve.

He's still good at reading people. He always knows when you're upset.

Huge compliment fisher, especially for you.

Gives the best advice ever, it can be hard to tell if he's serious though..

HUGE SHOW OFF

The moment you leave the room, he brags about you. If you're in class 1-A, he'd constantly say they're undeserving of you.

Huge gossiper. He's definitely always ease dropping and comes to you with the juiciest details ever.

He always knows what the right thing to say is with you. He also knows when it's the right time to be cocky and tease you.

Always in your personal space..

He'll cling to you, and I mean that.

He'd try to fix your outfit, lay on your shoulder, poke you, use you as a arm rest, or anything stupid.

And he denies everything if you mention it.

Only takes criticism from you (and teaches).. so if you tell him he did something wrong he'd freak out.

But he'd fix it.

If it worked.. he'd think of you more highly (if that was even possible)

But you wouldn't get a huge thanks from him.

He still flirts with you, except he doesn't try to hide it anymore.

Despite all this, he still is a huge gentleman.

I'm talking holding the door for you, moving things out your way, etc.

He treats you like a literal god sometimes.

LOVES to tease you, and annoy you.

100% is the jealous type. He loves what you to have, and wants to keep it purely between you two. So when another guy comes into the picture, teasing or complimenting you, he can't help but feel jealous.

When he's jealous he'll cling onto you more, or become way more insufferable.

When you two are alone, he can act way better.

He's calmer with you, always.

So what he says to you in private is more meaningful.

He definitely becomes way more affectionate to...

His love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation.

He's canonically rich, so I see him spoiling you in gifts and overly fancy stuff.

He never doubts you ever. He only wants what's best for you and your future.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

An underrated health and wellbeing tool is play. 

When you think about playing, you may immediately picture little children - but by definition, play describes “any activity engaged in purely for enjoyment and recreation with no definite practical purpose” and those activities stay important throughout your whole life. 

Why are those activities important? 

Play is good for your body. Intentionally doing something just for fun helps to activate the “rest and digest” mode that is necessary to recover and heal from stress. It signals that you’re safe and helps your body relieve tension. 

It’s also good for your brain. It can stimulate your imagination, visualization and critical thinking skills, which can help you build skills like resilience and adaptability. 

Play can also foster empathy and understanding of others as it can help you see things from another’s perspective. 

Playing can make you laugh, and laughter comes with a whole sleeve of health benefits, such as decreasing blood pressure and even improving your immune system! 

Playing together can strengthen relationships. Positive, fun social interactions are important for your emotional wellbeing. 

Now some of you may think “that’s all nice, but how do I even play as an adult?”. While play is a natural behavior of human beings, many adults need to re-learn how to play - it depends on your specific environment and social circles but you may feel a lot of pressure to be productive all the time and play is by its very nature not productive. So, the first step in re-learning play is to give yourself permission to just *be* instead of *do* (and that can be a huge step!). 

Some ideas on how to ease back into play: 

Think about your childhood. (Or if you can, ask a parent, sibling or childhood friend, that can be a great way to bring back memories!) What were your favorite ways to play back then? What did you love about your favorite game? Does any particular memory immediately give you that “I wish I could do that again” feeling? (You may not necessarily find anything that you want to just replicate as an adult as-is, this is just meant to kick-start your imagination!) 

Gameify everyday tasks. Try to spot as many yellow items as possible on your commute to work. Make up a silly song about laundry while putting away the laundry. Pretend to be on a cooking show while making dinner. Do what you always do, just allow yourself to be silly about it! 

Do something creative, even (and especially) if you’re not good at it. You may not think of drawing, writing etc. as playing but those are activities you can do for pure entertainment! 

Moving your body doesn’t need to be purposeful exercise (and certainly not hating yourself in the gym), it can also be playtime: Do a silly little dance to your favorite song! Tippytoe, crawl, jump, walk backward.. from your bedroom to the kitchen, just for the fun of it! 

Rethink toys. While it is fully okay for a grownup to buy, own and play with toys, and we should abolish the negative stereotypes about it (it’s creepy, it’s inherently a sign of poor mental health etc.) these stereotypes do exist and you may simply not feel comfortable. Luckily, there are a few toys that are generally considered socially acceptable for adults or are even marketed towards adults, such as board games, stress balls, adult coloring books, certain Lego sets or fan/collectors toys (like action figures). And when there are no judgy eyes watching, you may also have fun just playing with household items such as cardboard rolls! No need to go out and buy something! 

Keep in mind that play isn’t a competition to win. You can’t play wrong - that’s the beauty of it! Just let your curiosity and enthusiasm guide you. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[mysteryshoptls]

NRC Master Chef Finale

"There is no end to the culinary road"

I don't normally take requests for chapters from events, but I liked the descriptions of the students that I was planning on doing this outtro anyway. Please enjoy.

[Kitchen]

Head Chef: Right. That finishes up the prep work we need for tomorrow.

Crowley: Good evening!

Head Chef: Oh hello, Headmage. What can I do for you so late at night?

Crowley: Well, currently the Master Chef course is ongoing, is it not?

Crowley: I thought I would ask how the students taking the class are faring.

Head Chef: The students? Hmm, well…

[shows Silver, Deuce, Ruggie, Epel, and Jack]

Head Chef: Some do the best they can, even if they had a hard time learning.

[shows Ace, Idia, Leona]

Head Chef: Some are coachable, since they try to find ways to make it easier on themselves.

[shows Trey, Jamil, Floyd]

Head Chef: Some already have highly impressive cooking skills.

[shows Malleus, Cater, Vil, Ortho]

Head Chef: Some are still unaccustomed to cooking, but have a certain spark.

[shows Kalim, Lilia, Jade]

Head Chef: Some go beyond what the recipe says and creates their own spin on the dish.

[shows Riddle, Rook, Sebek, Azul]

Head Chef: Some read into every last detail of the recipe to reproduce it as faithfully as they possibly can.

Head Chef: …There are many different types of students, just off the top of my head.

Crowley: I see…

Crowley: Well, in truth, I have received many complaints from the students and professors that we've had as judges saying things like, "This isn't edible at all!"

Crowley: I was wonder what could possibly be going on… But it seems as though this course brings forward very individualistic personalities.

Crowley: Ah, that being said, of course we've also received compliments as well!

Crowley: I especially find that we don't receive as many complaints in the latter half of the course. Perhaps it shows how much the students have improved.

Crowley: And of course, all of this is thanks to our splendid chefs.

Head Chef: No, not at all.

Head Chef: It's thanks to the hard work of the students who have been taking this Master Chef course that everyone else is happy.

Crowley: Is that right! Fufufu, well, I should have expected such excellence from those attending this academy.

Crowley: I'm sure this means that the students who took this Master Chef course all came to understand just how important food is.

Crowley: One day, when they've become great mages, there can be no doubt that they will look back on this course and be eternally grateful.

Crowley: Please keep up the good work for tomorrow as well.

Head Chef: Of course! We'll make sure that everyone at Night Raven College knows just how fun and worthwhile cooking can be.

Crowley: ...Sooo… By the way, I'm feeling a little peckish, would there be anything that I could have as a midnight snack…?

Head Chef: Is that the real reason you came down to the cafeteria!? Hmph, and here I was astonished that you actually were asking me something so profound at first!

Crowley: NOT AT ALL! BUT EVEN IF IT WERE, IT'S YOUR FAULT THAT YOUR FOOD IS SO DELICIOUS!!

Head Chef: Well, I suppose, then… Heheh. Cooking can be hard work, but…

Head Chef: Whenever I can see people happily eating something I've made, it quickly revitalizes me.

[The Master Chef intro movie plays, except it is Crowley speaking]

Crowley: "Food," the very foundation of life.

Crowley: Clear oceans, majestic mountains, tender earth.

Crowley: Accept everything nature provides, and use it to nourish yourself.

Crowley: If you so will it, knowledge and valor will be bestowed upon you.

Crowley: Move forward! Never look back! The culinary road is foreboding and grueling.

Crowley: However, when you finally reach the summit, it will all be yours to claim.

Crowley: The crowning achievement―

Crowley: THE GLORIOUS TITLE OF MASTER CHEF!

Crowley: There is no end to the culinary road…

Crowley: Continue to do your best next time, as well. I'll be cheering you on!

Requested by Anonymous.