#a study of life 🍃

[astroyongie]

🍃🪐 What Chiron Says About You 🪐🍃

-> Hey guys <3 a little astro post today! I haven't added the houses because I admit I felt a little lazy, hopefully you can forgive me <3 Please enjoy! this is my personal opinion too :))

⚷ Aries: If you have this placement (well we are together in this), our wounds are often rooted in our self identity as most of our life we had a feeling like we have to prove ourselves we exist or are "good enough." maybe some of us had early experiences that made us doubt our ability to be brave or take initiative (eg, however has this in a 9th house It can translate as trying to succeed in studies, 10th house in career, ect) . This often has ended up in inner anger, and some of us may have struggled (and still struggle) with it. it's okay to stand up for ourselves. However we also have gifts provided by Chiron. we have the capacity to teach others how to believe in themselves, take initiative, and be courageous.

⚷ Taurus: People with this placement often have to deal with wounds related with feeling insecure about self-worth and feeling like they aren't enough (eg. 1st house, 12th house), material security (eg. 2nd house, 10th house), body image which can often come from heavy wounds related to self image (eg. 1st house, 5th house, 6th house) or safety (eg. 4th house, 8th house). Despite all of that, they are the ones who are always helping others finding stability in their life and relationships. They have the right words to help others value themselves, and create abundance rooted in peace, work or any other area depending on the other person.

⚷ Gemini: Their wound is so deep, and often it comes from the constant feeling of being misunderstood by everyone around them which also is linked with the feeling of being unheard and silenced, or not smart enough. Depending on the house, this can translate a lot with carrying secrets in the family, suffering things and never telling anyone, or often being seeing as a liar or as someone who isn't honest. As their grow, people with Chiron in Gemini become a master communicator for others and they are often in careers related with teaching, writing, speaking and connecting with people across the world in general.

⚷ Cancer: I have noticed that often, people with a cancer in their Chiron have deep emotional wounds from their family, from childhood or like being abandon or have abandonment issues, or not feeling nurtured enough. This can often be empathized for people with that placement in their 4th, 5th and 8th houses. Having it in a 10th house for example could be translated as the family putting a lot of pressure in the studies or choosing their children path for them. Because of that, they are often people who have the capacity of healing emotional bodies, they are amazing therapists and doctors. they are capable of creating safe spaces, nurturing others, and teaching emotional security.

⚷ Leo: They bear wounds that often people don't understand simply because they are linked with the fear of not being seen, loved, or recognized for their true self. And yet they suffer a lot due to people not being genuine, because they seek love in places that bring only wounds and hurt. they are known to be lust over and not loved which is deep to deal with. their healing gift however, is the fact that the are able to inspire others to shine, perform, create, and love themselves fiercely which they after try to project on others since they have a hard time to grasp it themselves.

⚷ Virgo: Virgo's are often known to be strong facades and yet, Chiron virgo has deep wounds, and when they feel broken it's such with a depth because it involves feelings of being and feeling imperfect, never "good enough" no matter how hard they try and obsessing over their flaws. Depending on people and the house placements it can be translated in their appearance, in their job, in their selves as partners, parents, children, ect. Yet they are capable of teaching others self-acceptance through Chiron's energy. to others they also teach practical healing (they are good doctors), mind body connection, and sacred services for others and ourselves.

⚷ Libra: It's not an easy placement because most of people with a Libra Chiron will always have to bear wounds related to pain around relationships either they are romantic, family or social/friendships, but also they struggle with fairness and balance, often feeling betrayed, unseen, or unchosen by others. Chiron provides them with the healing gift of being able to guide others into healthy relationships, teaching fairness, diplomacy, and true connection. They make good lawyers, teachers and mediators.

⚷ Scorpio: They have such a deep fear of betrayal and depending on other placements some of these people can have never experienced betrayal in their childhood back ground and yet it's an unconscious hint to it. They also have wounds and fears around feelings of abandonment, they have deep emotional trauma often related with loss, issues around trust and radical changes. some people with a 4th or 8th house placement can experience harsh divorces of their parents or the loss of a parent when young. Despite that, they are able to become a powerful emotional healer for others, guiding people through shadow work, rebirth, and deep intimacy.

⚷ Sagittarius: They struggle with life in a general basis to be honest, but I also have notices that their wounds is often linked with a feeling of being disconnected from truth or betrayed by belief systems (many of these have issues with religion, spirituality or traditional settings in their family and culture). Because of that many of them develop wounds and pains by being stuck in a cultural or a philosophical confusion because of their roots. They have the healing gift of leading others to find their own personal truth, expanding horizons through adventure, faith, and exploration which is basically the core energy of Sagittarius.

⚷ Capricorn: Many people who have a Capricorn in their Chiron are really fighters in my eyes. they often have to deal with wounds of feeling unsupported by the people they love the most while also being burdened by responsibilities (eg. in the 4th house some of you had to grow up too quickly or become the parents. in the 7th house, you often are the caregiver of your partner). Because of that they often feel unworthy of success, or afraid of authority. Yet they have the power of teaching others how to build real success based on their talents, how to be patient, disciplined, and create structures that support dreams and ambitions

⚷ Aquarius: One thing I have noticed is that most people with this placement often struggle with the feeling of being like an outsider in their own home, their own country or their own selves which often can be troublesome or connected with some deep emotional trauma. Aquarius Chrison does not fitting in, in the traditional expectations, and they are usually rejected for being different or visionary. Many of them might have been bullied or kicked out of their homes or example. Their healing gift is the capacity of showing others how to embrace their uniqueness. many of these people create communities to find their own, and dream up of better futures.

⚷ Pisces: Finally we reached the Chiron pisces and of course their wounds are often so carved in their psych that it's hard to heal them. they often had to deal with feelings of being abandoned by the universe like they weren't supposed to be here to being with. they are feeling disconnected from the source and overwhelmed by collective suffering. Their empathy often make them create wounds that aren't even theirs and are transgenerational. Yet their capacity of becoming a bridge to unconditional love is just the most precious thing ever. they are good spiritual healers, they are artistic, and have transcendent compassion.

[skuroddls]

Another environmental study based on the old cabin from life is strange 2 🍃

[supernova41st]

Pics/gifs that remind me of them

(Fnf x reader)

Warnings: zaza, I hate this word but tsundere, insults but you guys are big girls/boys/things you can handle it

A/n: I’m gonna post shorter hcs for a bit cuz I’m working on this one req that has a lot of stuff, anyways ik this is cringey wattpad shit but who cares. Enjoy <33

Darnell

This is before you two were dating btw

All he wanted to do was doodle a bit 😔

“Oo whatcha got in there?”

“None of your goddamn business..”

grab

“Why are you hiding these they’re so c..”

This man was practically glowing mauve

It’s okay, you were blushing too

“…I won’t tell anyone if you let me keep it.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Really? Cuz this says otherwise”

“IT SAYS NOTHING”

No but actually, you stared at them almost everyday

It got to the point where you memorized them page by page

After you guys started dating, it became an inside joke that he was always embarrassed of

“Draw me like your French girls Darnell..”

“Oh my fucking-just-don’t remind me”

Once you tried drawing him and it def wasn’t up to his level of mastery, but he still loved it

He cut it out and hung it up on his wall next to his bed

Nene

You guys swap every now and then but she likes it more when you do it

“Y/n do me first plsplspls”

“Okay okay just as long as you take out your knives, I don’t want them to cut me again”

“That was one time 🙄”

“No nene, it was two times.”

Sometimes you’ll choose themes, like ocean or just a general color

You guys would get into funny arguments about the shades

“Nene this not purple that’s pink”

“It’s a mix of both!”

“The theme was purple so just do purple! It shouldn’t be a mix of anything 😒”

No wonder she always loses in dress to impress..

She would sometimes awkwardly zone out just staring at your eyes

(And if you have brown eyes and your eye does that one thing during golden hour, she’s immediately gone)

“…nene?”

“Yea?”

“The makeup.”

“Oh fuck, sorry”

You guys love face masks too

When she gets back from Ulta or Sephora she always brings something back for you

“Y/n guess what I got you!!”

“Lemme guess, another face mask”

“No! Sol de Janeiro scent 40!!”

“ gasp MARRY ME”

“OKAYY ^^”

Pico

(Big ass picture omg)

Guys, the makeout sessions.

Pico is an okay kisser when sober, but for some reason his tongue just gets ✨✨ when puffing that za

He loves going to his house, playing “doin’ time” by sublime in the background while making out with you on his bed

You guys have been doing it since your teen years

“Mom I need to go to my friends house to study”

“Okay hun just be back before 8:30”

Best studying session of your life

Sometimes you guys don’t even kiss, just 🍃 + cartoons

Or random convos, like really random convos

He’s not a fan tho

“You think the wind is ever trying to tell us something we don’t understand yet?”

“…I want you to stop saying odd shit.”

One time, he grabbed your belt to pull you closer and did his tango with the tongue

The butterflies you felt when he did that.

“Jesus fuck Pico..”

“What? Did you not like it? I’m sorry I just-“

“Do it again or I’ll kill you”

You guys were such horny teens

And it hasn’t settled down ever since

But since consent is sexy, you two never BOOMBAYAH’D while 🍃

“P-Pico I bet can kiss every freckle on that beautiful fffucking face of yours”

“You wanna bet? Giggle I’ll put 20$ on this table right now”

“Hell yeah, bring it on Ed Sheeran head ass”

Eventually your lips got tired

“Pico my lips are so tired now”

“Nuh uh, keep going”

“Hey you can’t tell me what to do, respect women!”

“Idc I’m sexiest now”

“I think it’s sexist”

“No, it’s sextile”

“…okay”

I don’t think he was with us at that moment

Bitch was seeing stars

[coichii]

MARLBORO NIGHTS - YUNJIN

pairing - badgirl!gf!yunjin ♥︎ nerd!fem!reader

genre - mostly fluff with comfort

word count - 0.6k

warnings - getting high + smoking

A/N - I’ve never smoked a day in my life or been high so I have no idea if I described it well🥲 also, I’m not a GG writer. I write practically only for Straykids, I just happened to cook this up.

—

new message from “yunnie💗”

8:03 PM

yunnie💗: my parents aren’t home

yunnie💗: wanna go get high🍃??

you: I’m studying yunnie -_- sorry!

yunnie💗: oh cmonn

yunnie💗: you’ve been studying all day

:(

yunnie💗: don’t you wanna see me?

—

You can feel the temptation burning at you, your hands itching at you to type “fuck yes!”, but the text book infront of you is screaming “ax^2 + bx + c =0”

—

you: im sorry bby </3 but yk ms.tuckers exam is coming up soon

you: i’ll see you tmrw, i promise

yunnie💗: her exam isn’t until wednesday!!

yunnie💗: plssss y/n :(( i promise it’ll be the best high of your life if you come with me

—

“Ah, fuck it.”

—

you: fine.. ok i guess we can go get high or wtv😒

you: can’t say i don’t want to see you <3

yunnie💗: I knew you couldn’t resist <3

yunnie💗: meet me at the park ok? im bringing the roll.

you: okay, see you there xx

—

“Here, let me light it for you, baby.” Yunjin proposes, bringing the lighter up the cigarette between your lips and lighting it. “There you go.”

You mumble a quick, “Thank you” as you inhale the bitter taste of the cigarette smoke, coughing slightly.

You never smoke when you’re not with Yunjin, so you’re not quite used to it yet, but you’re getting there.

You pick the the cigarette out of you lips with two fingers, setting it in yunjin’s as she breaths in a mouthful and blows it out, creating a satisfying grey cloud over the two of you.

“Yknow,” she starts, plucking the cigarette out of her lips to continue. “I hope im not being a bad influence to you. I’ve never had anyone accept me like this.”

You watch as she picks a peice of her hair from behind her ear and pushes infront of her face, wanting to hide the emotion that was becoming evident on her face. “I don’t mean to at all.”

“Yunjin, stop. I promise you’re not a bad influence on me. It’s my decision if I want to get high or not. My decision if I want to stop studying for the night. You’re all I need.” You try to console, but you can see it’s not doing all that much.

“You hear what everyone says around school. They say ‘yunjin is going to ruin that girls life’. And I don’t want that to be true.” She says between breaths of tobbaco. “I want to be good for you.”

“Yunjin.” You plead. “You are good for me. Those people don’t know what they’re talking about. They don’t see the real you or who you really are in the inside. They see a silhouette and think they know everything, but they don’t. I know you. And I love you.”

She can feel the weight of your words on her mind, and it’s bringing her comfort as they sink in.

“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you y/n. I love you.” And she’s kissing you.

You can taste the nicotine on her tounge as you deepen the kiss, and it’s sending zings and buzzes to your brain.

Little did she know, you don’t know what you’d be doing without her.

She had no idea, that she was perfect for you and that was all that matters.

So you’ll teach her how to drown the voices out of all the people who said otherwise, who said you two weren’t meant for eachother.

You’ll do anything if it means you can stay with her, and you’ll spend everyday proving that.

[earthlybeam]

Secret crush without the mistletoe can be interesting..? Love your writing by the way I really like your view on Legolas on point!

how would the elves react to this?

↓

↓

↓

Legolas Version below. (You and Legolas well secret have a crush but either of you acted till now.)

🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

𖧧 The great hall was alive with the warmth of firelight and the soft buzz of conversation. Winter had tightened its icy grip on the world outside, its frigid breath pressing against the thick stone walls of the castle, but within, there was only warmth. The air was heavy with the scent of spiced wine and roasting meats, mingling with the steady hum of voices and occasional bursts of laughter from the gathered guests. Shadows flickered and danced across the high ceilings as the fire roared in the hearth, and golden light bathed the hall in a welcoming glow. Yet for all the merry revelry around him, Legolas’s attention was entirely elsewhere—on you. The two of you had found a quieter corner of the hall, tucked just far enough from the main crowd to feel removed from the festivities but still close enough to hear the hum of life around you. You were speaking to him, animated as always, your hands gesturing as you brought whatever story you were telling to life. There was a spark in your eyes that seemed to catch the firelight, making them shine even brighter, and your voice—light, lilting, utterly captivating—filled the space between you.

𖧧 Legolas, however, couldn’t hear a word you were saying. Not because he didn’t want to, but because his thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way the soft glow of firelight kissed your skin, and the way your presence seemed to fill every corner of his mind. You had always been beautiful to him, but tonight, there was something about you that was simply… magnetic. And then his gaze drifted upward. Just above you, hanging innocuously from the archway, was a sprig of mistletoe, its pale berries gleaming faintly in the warm light. Legolas froze for a moment, his sharp Elven eyes narrowing slightly as he studied it, as if its presence alone were conspiring against him. His lips quirked into a faint, almost rueful smile. How convenient—and utterly maddening. The mistletoe dangled there like an invitation, and yet, you hadn’t even noticed it.

𖧧 Legolas tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking back to you. You were still speaking, your words tumbling out in a steady stream of thought that left no room for interruptions. He tried to focus on what you were saying—tried to ground himself in the rhythm of your voice—but it was no use. His thoughts were consumed by you. By the closeness of you. By the thought of what it might feel like to close that small distance between you and claim the kiss the mistletoe so temptingly promised. He cleared his throat softly, a subtle attempt to catch your attention. But you didn’t notice. Your voice carried on, weaving through one story and into another, your excitement undeterred. He smiled faintly, shaking his head to himself. Of course, you wouldn’t notice. He adored this about you—your passion, the way your words never seemed to falter, the way you could fill any silence with life. And yet, at this very moment, it was also driving him to distraction.

𖧧 Legolas shifted slightly, leaning just a little closer, hoping you might sense the change in his demeanor. When that failed, he cast another glance upward, as if willing you to follow his gaze and notice the mistletoe. Still nothing. You were utterly oblivious, your focus entirely on the story you were telling. Legolas let out a soft sigh, his heart pounding in his chest. He would have to act. His mind raced. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if this ruined everything? But then his gaze found its way back to your lips, and his resolve hardened. Enough. If he waited for you to pause, he’d be here all night.

𖧧 As you launched into yet another animated anecdote, your hands gesturing to emphasize some point, Legolas stepped forward, closing the space between you in a single, deliberate motion. His movements were as smooth and graceful as always, but there was an uncharacteristic tension to his posture—a quiet urgency beneath his composed exterior. His hand brushed against yours, the contact so feather-light it might have gone unnoticed had it not sent a spark of warmth through your skin. The touch was enough to make you falter, your words catching for just a fraction of a second before tumbling forward again. But before you could recover or even register the brief interruption, his other hand came up, reaching for you with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. His palm cupped your cheek with a warmth that contrasted the wintry chill lingering in the room. His fingers spread gently, as if they belonged there, cradling your face with a reverence that made your heart skip a beat.

𖧧 “Legolas, what are you—” you began, your voice soft and uncertain as confusion flickered in your eyes. But the words never made it past your lips. Before you could finish the thought, he leaned in, his clear blue eyes holding yours for one fleeting moment, as if seeking permission—or perhaps steeling his courage. Then his lips were on yours, silencing you with a kiss that was at once soft and certain. The world around you seemed to stop. The golden warmth of the fire, the hum of laughter and chatter from the hall, the clink of goblets—all of it faded into the background, dissolving into a distant blur. All that remained was the quiet, intimate bubble of space the two of you occupied. His lips moved against yours with a gentle insistence, tentative yet undeniably purposeful, as if he were testing the boundaries of what you might allow.

𖧧 For a moment, you froze, your mind struggling to process the suddenness of his action. But the shock melted away almost as quickly as it came, replaced by a warmth that blossomed in your chest and spread outward until it filled every corner of your being. His hand on your cheek anchored you, grounding you in the moment, while his thumb brushed lightly over your skin in a touch so tender it made your heart ache. Slowly, almost instinctively, you found yourself leaning into him, your body responding before your mind could catch up. Your lips moved against his, hesitant at first but gradually growing bolder, matching the quiet yearning in his kiss. It was a mutual acknowledgment, unspoken but deeply understood—a shared step into something entirely new and uncharted.

𖧧 When he finally pulled back, it was as if time resumed its flow, though the moment between you still hung suspended like a fragile thread. His breath came shallow, and his clear blue eyes searched yours with a mix of vulnerability and determination. The expression on his face was unlike anything you had seen before—a delicate blend of hope, relief, and the faintest trace of nervousness. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the faint crackle of the fire and the distant murmur of the hall. Then, his lips curved into a small, sheepish smile, his composure faltering just enough to reveal the flicker of uncertainty beneath. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, though the faint flush on his cheeks betrayed him. “But you weren’t stopping, and… well, the mistletoe wouldn’t wait forever.”

𖧧 Your gaze flickered upward, finally following the direction of his earlier glances. There, hanging innocuously above you, was a sprig of mistletoe, its pale green leaves and pearly white berries glinting faintly in the firelight. A soft, breathless laugh escaped you, and when you looked back at him, your eyes sparkled with a mix of incredulity and playful mischief. “You mean to tell me,” you began, your tone light and teasing as your lips curved into a grin, “that you kissed me just to stop my talking?” His lips twitched, his own cheeks tinged with a faint pink that made him look more human than Elf in that moment. “I wouldn’t say that,” he replied, his voice carrying a note of playful earnestness that matched the glint in his eyes. “Stopping your talking was… a fortunate side effect.” A laugh bubbled up from your chest, incredulous and warm, as you shook your head in disbelief. “You could’ve just said something, you know,” you teased, though the warmth in your voice betrayed the fluttering in your chest. “Instead of ambushing me.”

𖧧 ���Would you have stopped long enough to notice the mistletoe?” he countered, raising an elegant brow, his smile growing more confident now. His tone was gentle but carried a hint of teasing challenge, as if he already knew the answer. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. He had a point. Instead, you closed your mouth again, your lips curving into a grin that was equal parts exasperated and amused. Tilting your head slightly, you regarded him with a playful glint in your eyes. “Well,” you said softly, your voice tinged with warmth, “now that I’ve stopped, I suppose you should make the most of it.” Legolas’s smile widened, the relief and delight in his expression unmistakable. For a brief moment, he looked at you as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real, as if he had been waiting far longer than you could have imagined for this exact moment. “As you wish,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a tone that was both reverent and full of quiet promise.

𖧧 This time, when he leaned in, the kiss was different. Gone was the hesitation and caution of the first; this kiss was deeper, more certain, filled with the kind of longing that had clearly been held back for far too long. His lips moved against yours with a quiet passion, and his hand, still cradling your cheek, shifted slightly, his fingers tangling in your hair as if anchoring himself to you. The world around you seemed to fade even further, leaving only the warmth of him and the steady beat of your heart. In that moment, beneath the mistletoe and the golden firelight, everything else disappeared, leaving only the quiet certainty that this was just the beginning.

𖧧 The next time Legolas kissed you, it was not born of hesitation or surprise but something deeper—something deliberate. It came after a quiet moment, one in which both of you stood close together, the firelight casting flickering shadows across your faces. You were alone now, the hall’s festivities continuing on the far side of the room, the laughter and music muffled as if the world itself had given you this moment to be entirely his. His gaze lingered on your face, studying you with the quiet intensity that always made your heart flutter. The way his blue eyes held yours felt like a silent confession, a thousand unspoken words exchanged in the span of a single heartbeat. There was no mistletoe this time to urge him forward, no playful excuse to fall back on. This was different. This was him, choosing you, without hesitation.

𖧧 Legolas stepped closer, his presence a quiet but commanding thing, as gentle and sure as the forest breeze. He raised a hand, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a touch so tender it sent shivers down your spine. You leaned into it instinctively, your breath hitching as his thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone with a reverence that made your chest ache. His other hand found its place at your waist, his grip firm but not possessive, as though he were anchoring himself as much as he was drawing you closer. You tilted your head slightly, meeting his gaze, and in that moment, the world felt still again. He leaned in slowly, giving you every opportunity to stop him, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both soft and searing.

𖧧 From Legolas’s perspective, the kiss was everything he had imagined and yet so much more. Your lips were warm and inviting, moving against his with an eagerness that matched his own, and he poured everything he could not say aloud into that kiss. His fingers slid into your hair, threading through the soft strands as he deepened the kiss, his movements deliberate yet unhurried. For him, this was not just an embrace—it was an act of devotion, a quiet promise that he would give you every part of himself if you would let him. For you, the kiss felt like stepping into the unknown, but it was anything but frightening. Legolas kissed with the kind of care and intention that made you feel cherished, as though you were the only thing that mattered in the world. His lips were soft yet firm, moving with a rhythm that was both patient and insistent, as though he was memorizing every moment, every sensation. His hand in your hair was gentle, his fingers tightening slightly as if he feared you might slip away.

𖧧 The warmth of him was overwhelming in the best way. It was in the press of his lips, the strength of his hand at your waist, the way his body seemed to align with yours as he pulled you just a little closer. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, matching the wild rhythm of your own. The intensity of it all left you breathless, and yet you found yourself wanting more. Legolas pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between you. His hand stayed in your hair, his thumb brushing softly against your temple in a soothing gesture. His lips hovered close enough that you could still feel their warmth, as if he couldn’t bear to fully part from you just yet. His voice, low and steady but tinged with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, broke the silence. “Do you know,” he murmured, his breath brushing against your lips, “how long I have waited for this?” Your chest tightened at the quiet vulnerability in his words, and you reached up to place a hand over his, the one still cradling your cheek. “Then don’t wait anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the meaning behind it clear.

𖧧 At your words, something shifted in Legolas. His lips found yours again, this time with more urgency, more need. The kiss was deeper, more consuming, as though he were pouring every ounce of restraint he had once held into this moment. His hand at your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the strength in him—not just the physical strength but the emotional depth, the quiet intensity that defined him. The room around you disappeared entirely, swallowed by the heat and tenderness of the kiss. Time seemed to stretch, the boundaries of the world reduced to the feel of him, the taste of him, the steady rhythm of his breath mingling with yours. It was a kiss that spoke of longing and relief, of promises unspoken but deeply felt. And when you finally broke apart, both of you breathless and trembling, you knew that nothing between you would ever be the same again.

[readychilledwine]

Selfcare Sunday

Summary - In an effort to have Lyria get to know his family, Azriel has her schedule them on her Sundays, forgetting it is her day with her brothers..

Warnings - None really for this part unless you count Azriel not liking her brother, but they're coming, trust me.

A/n - There will be a bit of Azriel after each character with how I'm planning and writing them and a second Azriel part that's longer, so don't worry about how short this is.

🍃Lyria and Azriel Masterlist🍃

✨️Master Masterlist✨️

Azriel sighed, relaxing fully as Lyria worked warm oil into his back, focusing on his sore shoulders. This had become their Sunday late night routine. Azriel laying on her table as she melted a week of tension away with those hands he was learning to trust.

He had emotionally healed significantly in the past month of her love. He had strictly asked her to use lotion in the beginning, but the past few massages, he's asked for her newest oil. An herbal mix Rhysand raved around, and Azriel could see why. It was made with yarrow and eucalyptus, turning his muscles into putty. He trusted her with his life already, and she seemed to trust him with hers.

“There you go,” Lyria whispered gently to him. “Almost have your mind shut off, don't you?”

He would only moan in response, feeling her fingers knead onto those layers of muscles. Azriel didn't know what he had done to be this blessed. To be so favored by the Cauldron that his mate's love language was acts of service, but he wasn't going to complain. Especially not as her hands moved to begin working the knots in his neck.

He knew they were in the last 15 to 20 minutes, and he would be lying if he didn't say that thought made him a little sad. “I was thinking,” his voice was low and soft, as if he was drifting off to sleep under her touch. “You're shy and most comfortable here?”

Lyria hummed to acknowledge him, “I am a homebody, yes.”

“And you always say massages tell you more about a person than talking?”

“Right,” Lyria confirmed as she continued working on the tension in his upper shoulders and neck. “Like I can tell you were in your dungeon far too long today by how tight your shoulders, collarbones, and neck are. Where are you going with this?”

Azriel took a moment to respond, having drifted off at the feel of her hands kissing his aching away. “How would you feel about my family coming on Sundays? 90 minutes, you and them. I'll pay you-”

“Sundays are when I see Eris and Lucien,” she whispered. She continued feeling what she was doing but not looking down at him, letting his body communicate his needs.

Azriel opened one hazel eye, “Only during the afternoon and evenings, though?” He studied her face, her lips pouted as she thought. “I will make sure it doesn't hurt your time with Eris and Lucien. Even if I'd prefer you weren't near them.”

She sighed, tired of this conversation. “We've discussed this,” she put a little more pressure on his neck. “I love my brothers. Whatever anger you hold towards them is between you and them. It's not like I'm seeing my father.”

“I'd lock you in my damn room at the House of Wind,” he immediately growled. “You may have that deal to see him occasionally but I could not stand that one weekly.”

Lyria pushed his head back down, “This is relaxation time, Mister.” His hands squeezed her plush thighs in agreement as she began massaging again. “I get to set the schedule. The times. The type of massage.”

“That's fine.”

“And I reserve the right to tell them to go away of they're mean.”

“Absolutely. Then you will tell me.” She smiled at his protectiveness. She was learning to love it. Learning to love her very instinct driven Illyrian male. “Fuck right there,” he sighed as she found the worst spot on the upper right side of his neck.

“Do you want a scalp massage too?” Azriel squeezed her thighs, communicating silently to Lyria's question. Her long nails, freshly done in a cobalt blue a day ago with his money, ran softly on his head. “You realize I already see Rhysand once a week?”

He hummed, “He will want to take part. Those massages are part of the bargain you two made. A business transaction. This would be different.”

She hummed in return beginning to play with his hair, “We talk about personal things, though.”

“Not the way you will with this,” his voice was heavy with sleep, “Can.. is it lay down time?”

Lyria nodded, “Come on, big bad shadowsinger.” She helped him stand, holding his hand as she walked him through her home. A home Rhysand paid for. A home she was slowly making more and more her own.

As soon as Azriel was asleep, she went to her schedule book, writing in names on Sundays. The next morning, she handed it to them. “I want them here 10-15 minutes early so we can consult.”

Azriel smiled at that paper, dimples coming through, “Absolutely.”

“And the weeks I took off are non-negotiable.”

“Of course, my fire,” Azriel pulled her to him by his waist, placing a hungry kiss on her lips. A knock on the door came, Monday arriving much too fast for their liking. “See you tonight?”

“See you tonight,” she confirmed and kissed him again. “Don't forget to give them the schedule.”

The week passed slowly, and Lyria smiled as another Sunday arrived. She placed stones in a warmer, lighting massage oil candles. Her magic dimmed the room, the scent of lavender soft and drifting as she readied the table.

“Hello, Lyria Darling,” Rhysand leaned against her doorway, a wide flirtatious smile on his face. He was twirling his spare key to her apartment. “Shall we begin our consultation?”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

Self Care Sunday Taglist:

(Let Liz know if you want/wanted your name here. Her list disappeared 😭)

[cleverchaoscupcake]

"16 & Becoming"

Heyy there angels!!!!!!!!!, I’m a 16-year-old pre-med student preparing for NEET, chasing dreams of becoming a doctor — maybe even a surgeon someday 💉. A December-born winter soul ❄️, I love math and physics(I'm a math girl omg), and though biology challenges me, I adore its mysteries deeply. My name means nature, and honestly, I carry the whole universe within me 🌱🌌. A proud school topper, bookworm, debater (a really good speaker), and a quiet storm made of Mother Nature herself — I love gardening, cooking, cleaning, and anything that brings me peace 🍃🫖. I am trying to romanticize life in silence, coffee cups, deep thoughts, and studies(trying my level best) ☕🌠. With big ambitions and a love for space, books, and late-night talks, I’m just trying to balance it all — the chaos, the calm, the dreams, and the discipline.

Always looking forward to connecting with people who dream just as wildly and think just as deeply 🌷💫.

[brokenpcsys]

self indulgent Cerulean from forsaken BAH pack :]

faceclaim

NAME(S): cerulean , fauna , dyani , issi , oisin , oshin , osian , sappho , iris , azura , capri , cyan

AGE: immortal

GENDER: feminine leaning nonbinary , weirddeeric, deerthing, disturbgender , dxxric , deerskullskelletic , deerheadlightsgender , deerwolfteethix , unholyrotic , genderabyss , voidangelgender , nothingboy , riernali ,

PRONOUNS: she/her, he/him, they/them, pla/play/plays, cha/chase/chases, gra/graze/grazes, fle/flee/flees, ta/tail/tails, ru/run/runs, ju/jump/jumps, spo/spot/spots, sne/sneak/sneaks, ho/hoof/hoofs, ant/antler/antlers, fi/fight/fights, deer/deers, fawn/fawns, bu/buck/bucks, do/doe/does, ki/kick/kicks, mu/munch/munches, lea/leaf/leafs, sna/snack/snacks, crea/creature/creatures, he/herd/herds, for/forest/forests, Blood/bleeds , Cryp/cryptid , Beast/beasts , Creature/creatures , Deer/deers , Watch/watches , Look/looks , Thing/things , Stare/stares , Faun/fauns , That/thats , Shift/shifts , Doe/eyes , Ant/antler , Void/voids , Shadow/shadows , Danger/dangerous , Stalk/stalking , Crypt/Cryptself , Shade/Shadeself , Dark/Darkself , Canine/canineself , woof/woofself , scream/screamself , critter/critterself , Claw/clawself , Scare/scareself , ze/zem

ORIENTATION: gaybian acespike

SPECIES: deer-humanoid

SOURCE: Forsaken

ROLE(S): Praegressor , Dehumanization Holder , Devotee, Enforcer, Distortionist

SIGN OFF: 🔄, 🦌, 🌀, ♾️, 🪦, ⚰️, 🥀, 🌲, 🍃, 🌱, 🌳, 🍂, 🍁

TYPING QUIRK: all lowercase and spaces between all punctuation. a lot of exclamation points

example: “i . . . do not know whether or not she is believable , but , i do find her to be reliable . “

LIKES: Forest animals , kids shows , outdoors , music , religious studies

DISLIKES: people talking over her , the popping of balloons , not having control

TRANSID(S): transdisguisedangel , transjackolope, transnephilim , transloving , transnaive , transdistortedreflection , transinnocence , transreligousparanoia

CISID(S): cispescatarian , cisbpd , cisdpd

OTHER ID(S): trishypnotist , trishumanoid , deadharmed , permahigh , permahypnotised

PARA(S): Ω , 🐾 , 🌷 , ficto , 🧟 , ❣️ , 🥀 , 💤 , 🔱 , 🫀 , 🌑 , 💧 , 🔗 , 🪢 , 📸 , 🫶 , 🫁 , 🛐 , 🧹 , 💀🍭

POS TRIGGERS: Deer , body being high , body being hurt , the woods , dark places

NEG TRIGGERS: loud noises , body being overstimulated in any way , dead animals

SOURCE MEMORIES:

💻: Has memories of being attached to “the followers of spawn,” following the same cult that Two time is apart of.

💻: Acted as recruitment for the cult aswell as helping “punish” nonbelievers, as she was decently high up in “rank.”

💻: Remembers stumbling her way out of the forest when she first joined the cult, they took watch in and took care of them when fawn was young.

💻: remembers running through the forest for fun, always had branches and sticks in critter’s hair and always had scrapes all over their body from running

SPEECH: voice quiet, almost a whisper

PERSONALITY: Friendly and quiet, she isn’t exactly much for conversation, but she wouldn’t complain if one comes up to speak to her, very easily manipulated. she tends to get super attached to people really easily, basically clinging to them like her life depends on it.

AESTHETIC:

we probably wont post any other bah posts other than this (on this blog.. we have a bah blog that im in the process of working on!! :]) so dont expect too many in the future!! this was just to help our own fragment of her develop!

[secretofblue]

29 • 05 • 25 11:55 pm

Wednesday recap 🍃

(Yesterday!) I've been a little bit lazy with my recaps, but before more time goes by like last week here i go

So eventough practices ended uni proyects and exams hasnt 😮‍💨 so yesterday i had the oral presentation of the case of one of the patients i had the opportunity to work with when i was still in the hospital's rotation

Honestly i was a little bit worried about this presentation because eventough i have been doing well with the test of this subject, getting a good note on my presentation means that i don't have to super worry about my grade on the final

I worked on this presentation for probably half of the semester, it had to be short, under 10 mins 😭 (i always joke with my friends that on the first semesters of the career our struggle was to make our presentations last 30 mins or more depending the subject and the teacher, but now it's all the other way, that and the fact that i'm terrible at summarizing), it also had to be clear and concise.

In the presentation i had to talk about the clinical background of the patient: previous diseases, surgeries, transfutions, etc? what happened? how many days were them hospitaliced in the ICU? what is their diagnosis? and the one of the rehabilitation area? how does all of their pathophysiologies corelate? what was their state the day i evaluated them at the hospital? Based on that, would i do an intervention? If so, what would i do as it's treatment? All of this clearly scientifically referented in APA 7°Ed™ hshs

And still my biggest struggle once i finished compiling the information was the time 😀

They sent us the night before the order in which we would be presenting, my turn wasn't until 1:30 pm so i relaxed a little bit because i still had the morning to rehearse. I decided to arrive early in the morning at uni so i didn't have to worry for the time later, i hided on one of the empty aisles of the uni so i could rehearse out loud, always with my chronometer in hand.

Oh, we also had to dress formal for it, so i assaulted my mom's closet for it bc i don't have none of that. But there i was heels and everything

For the expo, we entered one by one and our only audience were the Dra. and the four professors (all of them physios) who teach us and acompany us in the practices. As i said, i was supposed to enter at 1:30 but for some setbacks i ended up entering until 4 pm 💀

I don't know why my leg started trembling like crazy in the middle of my presentation i just hope none of the teachers noticed it 😭, but other than that i think i controlled my nervous pretty well

I didn't get to finish on time, the alarm went off when i still have left one slide :( but i guess the teachers let it pass. At the end of the presentation they only asked me about two things in my treatment and i tried to justify it the best i could but idk, i sincerely don't expect a perfect grade but i think i didn't do it that bad :) honestly i'm satisfied with the way i did it

With that, there just left the final test which is in two weeks (a compilation of everything i learned in the career) so i have a s* ton to study

The way back home was entertaining to say the least, at the bus station the sir who was in line in front of me asked me something and that lead to a conversation that ended until i arrived to my stop an hour and a half later, now i know the story of his life 😃

Back at home, my puppy and i went on our walk and then to the gym with my sister, when we left it was raining hard but we didn't had an umbrella, not even our hoodies so we get wet on our way home luckily none of us catch a cold

And well, once again i think this update turned long enough so i will end it here

If someone reached this far, thank you so much for reading this mess ֶָ֢ Good night everyone, rest well! ✨

[hey-august]

You're coming in… you're coming close

😌🍃 This is a continuation of Close your eyes, just settle, settle, just with a different title.

The first part was originally a one-shot (and could still be read as such), so this part ended up with more plot and less prose. Hopefully the overall tone carried through. (tbh, i struggled with that so much.)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Word count: ~3.5k ...more than double the first one 🙃 Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, partaking in the devil's lettuce 🍃, insertion sex, jacking off, facial, manual stimulation, a lil bit of an angsty fight A/N: Here's the opening line that I first wrote and discarded: "The slivered moon was high and so was Buggy."

Edit: Huuuuge amazing wonderful thanks to @be-not-afraid-gg for this suggestion!!!! 🩷🩷🩷

Title from "Great Romances of the 20th Century" by Taking Back Sunday

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The night is dark and full of creaks and groans from the ship listing in the slow rolling waves. Footsteps shuffle across the wood floor, adding to the ambiance. Buggy walks slowly, with bare feet tucked into untied boots, and moving in time with the subtle swells.

His hazy mind drifts in circles around the one idea that set his body in motion. A thought that had seeped from his head, down into his mouth, and settled on his tongue. There’s an absence under the taste of smoke and fire. An emptiness that calls for something flavorful.

Lost in the cyclone of thoughts, the illuminated sign of life doesn’t register until Buggy steps into the brightly lit kitchen. What he assumed was a beacon luring him towards his destination, was actually the mark of a haven for late night cravings. A haven you had already founded.

You’re leaning on a counter, midway through a bite of toast, and eyes wide at the unexpected company. Red eyes that match his.

“Sorry, didn’t think anyone would be here,” Buggy stammers, spacing out and forgetting that he’s the captain of the ship. 

Anxiety bubbles in his chest, turning over the hunger that brought him to the kitchen, and mixing it with a different desire. The warm scent of cinnamon joins the turmoil in his body. Buggy nervously rubs his jaw, the stubble scratchy against his bare hand.

“Smells good.”

You finish the interrupted bite and push a small plate towards the door. “Want some?”

Buggy walks over and studies at the slice of toast you offered. Scattered islands of cinnamon and sugar sink into pools of butter. The lush mixture spreads across the landscape, an impression of how it would feel in his mouth. Buggy swallows the excess moisture his mouth is creating in anticipation and nods. You nudge the plate closer, creating a soft rasp as the ceramic slides against wood.

It’s messy and flavorful. Soft and crunchy. Sweet and lingering. The flavored butter coats his tongue, the heaviness carrying away the taste of resin and ash. He glances at your glistening lips and wonders if they’re also coated in sugar and cinnamon. The thought is chased away with a dry bite of uncoated crust.

“I’m glad I washn’t the only one in the mood for a late night sch-nack.”

You stifle laughter as the remark is delivered through a mouthful of half-chewed food. Buggy cracks a grin as the restrained joy still finds a path to your eyes. Feeling a familiar twist in his stomach, he shoves the rest of the cinnamon toast in his mouth and hopes the food will tamp down the ache.

“D’you do this often?” Buggy asks.

It’s no secret that some of the crew has particular hobbies. While Buggy’s interests sometimes overlap with his crew’s, he prefers to indulge in a select few on his own. This feels different, though. He already partook in privacy, leaving behind the ash and resin before lumbering to the kitchen.

“Sometimes…you?”

“Sometimes.”

The silence following the confessions was infused by the cinnamon - warm and comforting. This wasn’t a joint activity, it was just two individuals in a concurrent moment. A shared experience that would be repeated the following week. And the week after. And the next, as well. It became a routine.

The evening sessions begin independently until the smoke carries you both to the kitchen. Together you fill the room with laughter borne from empty giddy thoughts, while filling your stomachs with whatever you could get your sticky fingers on. 

Grilled cheese sandwiches, where more cheese is eaten in anticipation, than put between the bread slices. Instant noodles that Buggy prepares when he arrives first. Apple slices started a playful argument when you say they taste better with a bit of salt, while Buggy disagrees and slathers his portion in obscene amounts of peanut butter.

One unscheduled night you show up at the captain’s quarters, wearing a sheepish expression and carrying a plate of buttered toast coated liberally in cinnamon sugar. Under the chill of sobriety, Buggy’s chest rapidly fills with drumbeats. There’s no heady fog to dampen the sound, so it reverberates in his head until your voice cuts through.

“I wanted a snack and thought that maybe you’d want some too.” 

His stomach turns, flipping so aggressively that he nearly feels nauseous. The soothing smell of spices drifts into the room, ready to confront the turmoil in Buggy. It talks to him with a soft murmur, saying this is no different than the nights in the kitchen. Fantasies are just fantasies. 

Finally, Buggy opens the door wider as his answer, welcoming this reality. Your eyes are red, and so are your cheeks as you enter the room, bringing a new addition to your weekly routines. 

These extra sessions happen without planning. Any night could be enhanced by a knock at the door from a giddy visitor bringing temptation. 

The first time Buggy went to your room, he over prepared for the trip. His body arrived before his mind. His thoughts trailed slowly and lazily, not making any effort to catch up until the time was right. Until he was sitting on the floor, surrounded by a carpet of smoke. 

Leaning against your bed, Buggy watched the small flame illuminate your face and listened to your deep breathing. When you looked over and caught him staring, all he could do was offer you a dopey grin and a bag of chips.

The late night rendezvous continue to happen at least once a week. A reliable respite, no matter how long the ship is at sea. If one person burns through their stash too quickly, there’s always some to share. What started as individual moments that eventually collided, turned into shared joints, passed between fingers and lips.

One night finds Buggy sitting in his usual spot on the floor of your room. His back is pressed against the bedframe and his head rests on the edge of the mattress you’re laying on. The hair from his ponytail is close enough to tickle your hand.

“We should stop doing this.”

In the broken silence, the words sound wrong and don’t fit in Buggy’s head. Stop sitting quietly? Stop smoking so much? Stop clearing out the kitchen? With eyes still closed, he hums a questioning response.

The bed shifts as you sit up. “We should stop whatever this is.”

Craning his neck, Buggy looks to see exactly what you’re talking about. You’re already staring at him, eyes searching his face for understanding that won’t be found.

“This,” you repeat, gesturing between you two. “Whatever we’re doing…I think it should- I don’t think we should-”

“Okay.” The response explodes out of Buggy’s mouth in an attempt to stop the painful words coming from yours. 

You want to stop all of this. Stop sitting in silence with him. Stop smoking with him. You don’t want him around anymore.

Even through the brain fog, your voice rings clear. His mind clings to your request, squeezing it and refusing to let go, no matter how much it stings. Buggy nods along to the replay in his head before pushing himself up.

With a hand on the doorknob, Buggy pauses. Questions tumble inside the pirate, fighting against each other in the haze and growing to take space from the weaker ones. He squeezes the brass orb. The metal is cool against his bare hand. One question takes advantage of the calm feeling and slips out.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Buggy stares at the door before him. He doesn’t turn around.

“Why,” he repeats mockingly slowly. “Why do you want to stop now? Why did you put up with this for so long? Were you just putting up with me?”

Buggy’s voice rises and cracks as the questions overflow. His hold on the doorknob tightens in an attempt to keep himself grounded.

In the following silence, Buggy sucks on the venom of his words. They were bitter. Not strong enough. But also too strong. They taste of regret and all he wants to do is burn them away. Douse them in alcohol and set them alight until he’s too numb to taste anything.

“Is that what you think?”

The bed creaks as you stand up and Buggy spins to face you.

“Obviously. I thought this was fun. I thought we were having a good time, but clearly I was wrong. You don’t like doing this,” he spits. “I shouldn’t be surprised, really. Of course you weren’t having fun with me.”

“I am- I was. I do like this.” Breaking through his monologue, you keep his attention and step closer. “That’s why we need to stop. I like y- I like this too much.”

You stiffen as the confession falls out. The words are out and can’t be retrieved. There’s no room in your mouth to take them back anyways, so you release the rest of what you want to say.

“It’s hard to keep having fun with you when I want more.”

Buggy’s silent. His mouth opens and closes, but he doesn’t make a sound. He stares at you, waiting for a punchline he knows isn’t coming. Your eyes aren’t glistening with laughter, but with something else.

“You want…more. What-” he swallows thickly, “do you want?”

The air in the room is heavy. You look away, following trails of fading smoke, before returning to Buggy’s expectant face. And lower, to his lips. The face paint is long faded, leaving behind a subtle stain. Your eyes flick back up just as he licks his lips. Those lips.

“I want you.” Your gaze moves down again. “I want all of you.”

Buggy’s body moves before he realizes it, reaching for you as soon as you finish speaking. Your lips taste like cinnamon. There’s a hint of ash on your tongue. You’re delicious. 

His hands cradle your face, holding you close so he can continue to relish a treat he’s thought about countless times before. You stumble back slightly, pushed by his greed. Hands clasp around his wrists, holding yourself steady and keeping his touch in place. 

Neither of you are sure who pulled back first. It took a few tries before you successfully detangled from one another. A question hangs in the space between your bodies - do you still want more?

You sit on the bed and pat the spot next to you. The muffled sounds are attractive and inviting. Yes, you want more. You both do. Buggy sits next to you. Following the movement of the sinking mattress, he leans against you and lets his head fall onto your shoulder. 

His mind lags behind his body, continuing past the arc of his body and bypassing the containment of his head. Buggy’s thoughts pour through his skull, rushing so quickly that he can hardly tease them apart. Mixed within the surge are visions seen only in the depths of privacy. The false memories of your choked moans and flushed face rise to the top and his dick follows suit.

Even with a hazy mind, he wants to pay attention. To give attention to you and to the swelling between his legs. Shifting against you, Buggy presses his face against your neck, pushing his nose into you. You’re warm and smell good. Your skin is damp. He parts his lips and tastes the salt coating your body. While he wasn’t one for salt on apples, he enjoys the taste here. 

The extra moisture left by his sloppy kisses is cooled by his heavy breathing. The change in temperature pulls a hint of a moan. Buggy’s cock twitches in response, begging for relief. Instead of giving in, his hand moves to touch your thigh. Voices tell him to squeeze. To grab you. To delve deeper. He settles for running a shaky hand up and down your leg.

The touch does little to soothe his need, to satiate his desire. The strain in his pants pulses and aches. Buggy grunts against your neck as he palms his erection. It’s so hard, it’s nearly painful. He whines as he realizes there isn’t enough give in the fabric of his pants to properly wrap a hand around himself.

His mind is quickly brought back to you with a click and the scrape of flint. You inhale deeply. The moment lasts forever as he watches little bits of flame escape and float away. Once your lungs are full, you pull Buggy’s face to meet yours.

Lips grazing each other, you exhale slowly. The smoke seeps from your mouth into his. Tendrils escape and dance up before he inhales your kiss. It’s slow and delicate. Hot, but not fiery. Buggy takes all that you give until his head is spun into cotton. Until he’s full of you.

A hand pushes his away to feel his desire. A heavy twitch against your touch conveys how badly he wants you. How desperately he needs you. A whimper escapes from his empty mouth when you squeeze slightly. A sound he repeats when you pull away entirely.

“Take off your clothes,” you tell him as you start doing the same.

The sound of pants being undone and falling to the ground isn’t new, but he feels the soft thumb reverberate in his heart. A heaviness that pulls him into action. Leaning back, Buggy fumbles with his belts and pants before scooting out of them and kicking off his boots in one motion. As he’s working on his vest, you peer over your shoulder and say he could keep that on. The softness in his request makes him even harder.

A curl of smoke catches Buggy’s attention. The wrapped ember glimmers and winks as its essence dances overhead, joining the rest of the heady fog. You pick it up, creating a connection that allows Buggy’s eyes to drift over your naked body.

Sun-kissed shoulders give way to your bare chest and soft stomach. He looks lower and lower, his hand following the path on his own body until he’s fondling and caressing himself in admiration of you. You’re better than any treasure map he’s seen - worthy of intimate study until he knows every curve, every valley and peak, every nook, absolutely everything until he’s committed you to memory.

Time flows inconsistently and Buggy’s not sure how long you let him touch himself while simply looking at you.

“Sorry, you’re-you’re just…wow,” he stammers awkwardly.

“Just wow,” you repeat with the smile that he’s only ever seen during the nightly sessions. “I didn’t see you as a man of few words.”

“Well, they say actions speak louder than words.” The teasing remarks ease any tension in the room. 

With legs still hanging over the edge of the bed, Buggy leans back on his elbows. The movement allows his vest to fall open and expose his chest, while his thick erection rests against his lower stomach. You approach slowly and straddle his lap, finding a perfect seat on his thighs. Your ass is soft and warm against his skin.

You offer him the still burning ember, which he accepts. His body moves obediently, unable to do more than go with the flow of the evening. All of his senses are alight and high. It would be overwhelming if it wasn’t with you. Closing his eyes, Buggy takes another drag.

Meanwhile, he feels you drag yourself on his body. You position his sticky member against yourself, rubbing his leaky tip along the way. He cracks his eyes just as you slowly sink down. You gasp, just as he’s imagined, when his flared head stretches you open.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, releasing the smoke in his lungs. 

A floating hand drops the burning herbs in the ashtray on the bedside table and then finds a spot on top of your thigh. His thumb rubs soft encouragement as your body adapts to his size.

“Y-you’re doing so good.”

Your body reacts to his praise, becoming intoxicatingly tight. The pressure from your legs outside of his increases. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, kneading out feelings of sensitivity as you sit flush on his cock.

Buggy is captivated by your expression - both focused and unfocused. Knitted brows caught between concentration and loss of control. Hazy eyes that flutter, unsure if they want to be open or closed. Your bottom lip stuck between your teeth.

“S’big. Feels…feel really full.” The breathlessness behind your comment sends Buggy to the clouds. 

Do you feel so full that you can hardly breathe? Does his cock take up that much space in your body? He throbs in your heat, straining against the confinement.

“You said you wanted more. Is it too much? M-more than you expected?” Buggy teases.

You let out a weak chuckle and rest your head on his shoulder. “No, I can do this.”

Committed to taking all you want, you start rolling your hips. Slowly at first, with Buggy’s floating hands following your movement. You grind harder as his grip increases. His fingers alternate between digging into your flesh and massaging out the bruising touches. Focused on staying within the boundaries of his restraint, Buggy doesn’t catch the sound of your voice the first time. 

“Help,” you mumble again against his neck, “please.” Pushing yourself back, you look Buggy in the eyes. “Fuck me.”

If he didn’t always stave off his orgasms multiple times when handling his own business, Buggy would have exploded inside of you just then. Still, he would not be able to hold out much longer. 

Sitting up, his arms move to connect with his hands, wrapping you in his embrace. He spreads his legs further to brace himself. With one arm around your waist and the other crossing your back to your shoulder, he fucks you the way you asked for. The way your moans beg for. 

Buggy uses his hold to push you against his thrusts, burying his cock as deep as your body allows. But he wants more. He clings to you, pulling you closer to his chest, wanting to feel you everywhere. To continue having your lovely sounds brush past his ear, to have your hands threading his hair, to feel your body stick against his.

Floating in those thoughts, Buggy didn’t know how tight the tether holding his anchor was until it threatened to snap.

“S-shit, m’close. I’m gonna- fuck. Wh-where-” His movements falter along with his stutters.

The tension loosens slightly as you pull yourself off, but returns when you kneel between his legs. You wrap your hands around his cock, using the wet sex from both of your bodies to jack him off. Buggy struggles to keep his eyes open, wanting to remember every moment of this, rather than falling back into the fantasies he’s used to finishing too.

“O-open your mouth,” he begs.

You give him the most wonderful open-mouthed smile as you push out your tongue, eager for what’s next. A hold on your wrist pulls one hand down to cradle his balls. Your touch is gentle, following as his balls tighten and he falls over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Keep-keep going,” Buggy grunts as each stroke along his cock sends another jet of hot cum to cover your face and chest.

His orgasm directs your movements. As each pulse slows, so does the pumping, until the final one to ease the last few pearly drops onto your dripping fist. 

Ignoring his body’s cry for rest, Buggy pushes himself forwards and lets his trembling legs drop him to the ground. You ease back to give him space.

“C’mere, I’m going to make you feel so good,” he says in a shaky voice.

He advances until you’re laying on the wood floor. He hovers over you, trailing a hand along your body until it’s between your legs. Your gasp is captured by his mouth and more sinful sounds are coaxed by his tongue.

You still taste like cinnamon. There’s a hint of salt, again. Not from your sweat, but from his cum. Fuck, it’s good. His tongue pokes out of your mouth to swipe long your lips, seeking more of that combined taste. Meanwhile, your grasp at his wrist and grind against his hand.

Buggy follows your cues - rubbing, teasing, increasing pressure, going faster, easing up - whatever you want. He’ll do this for as long as you’d let him and he wants you to know. But when he tells you to take your time, it has the opposite effect. You whimper and cry out as you come to his touch.

“That’s it, you’re doing such a good job,” Buggy croons, carrying you through the wave, until it crests and you float back down.

You keep your eyes shut as you settle back into your body. You look wonderful. Dazzling. Breathtaking. Your chest is heaving and you’re coated in a sheen of sweat and strands of cum. His cum. His mark. A possessive fire lights in his chest.

“Just tell me whenever you want more,” Buggy says against your skin, pressing kisses to your shoulder and chest. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll take good care of you, promise.”

You laugh, seeing through the disguise of his kind ‘offer,’ to his own insatiable desire. The cooling liquid on your skin jostles with the movement, sending a shiver through your body. 

Buggy moves closer to you, wanting to share his warmth and feel more of yours. Always, to feel more of you.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A/N: Also, I'd like to draw attention to the end of "Great Romances of the 20th Century," since it fits so well:

I'm in your room Is this turning you on Am I turning you on? I'm in your room Are you turned on? I'm on the corner of your bed I'm thinking maybe Are you turned on? Are you turned on?

[ohyespotatous]

🌸✨ I’m doing 100 Days of Ghibli Life ✨🌸

by @chu-diaries! ><

💌 Lately, getting out of bed has been... a mission-impossible kind of deal (˘･_･˘). So when I saw Chu’s cute, Ghibli-themed challenge, I thought it’d be the perfect way to cheer myself up and get back into the groove of things! Plus, Chu’s tracker fits my current goals, so it’s like a win-win! 🍃

This time, I’m focusing on the gain, not the gap :)) I might not post every single day, but I will do my best to finish all 100 days! I’ll embrace both my energizer bunny mood and my slow-and-steady tortoise vibe! 🐇🐢✨

Questions I want to answer at the end of the challenge: 🍃

Have I developed sustainable, energy-boosting daily routines?

Did I manage my thoughts and emotions well most of the time?

Was I able to let my days flow no matter the challenges and setbacks I faced?

Have I found some nice and joyful things to do to substitute my bad habits?

How was my progress toward my “main goal”? Am I on the right track?

What will be tracked in this challenge (with slight tweaks from the original):

🧹: did I do household chores or clean my house today? (inspired by our #1 cleaning lady Sophie from Howl’s Moving Castle)

🌳: did I have any mindful moments or meaningful spiritual activities today? (inspired by Kusakabe family admiring that giant tree at the forest on My Neighbor Totoro)

 🍜: did I cook something with love today? (inspired by Lisa’s ramen on Ponyo)

✍🏻: did I write for fun today? (inspired by Shizuku from  Whisper of the Heart)

🍵: did I make myself a tea break? (inspired by Zeniba’s tea party on Spirited Away)

🐈‍⬛: did I work like I would make jiji proud? (obviously inspired by our #1 employee Kiki from Kiki’s Delivery Service)

🏔️: did I have any adventures today? (inspired by Ashitaka’s journey on Princess Mononoke)

📚: did I study today? (inspired by our official lo-fi girl Shizuku from Whisper of the Heart)

🏃🏻‍♀️: did I work out or run or did yoga? (inspired by Taeko’s work out at her school on Only Yesterday)

🎈: did I play or have fun with reading books, listening to music or watching something at the tv? (inspired by Kaguya playing with her cat on The Tale of Princess Kaguya)

If I don’t update for a bit, it might be because: 1️⃣ My biggest enemy (me) won the day (and I probably locked myself in my room again) 2️⃣ I got so productive that I forgot to post 🙄 3️⃣ Something unexpected came up.

If it’s reason #1, I’ll pick myself back up and post as soon as I can. For reasons #2 or #3, I’ll share a recap post with updates from a few days all at once 😊

Hopefully, we'll have a joyful, productive, and cozy adventure over the next 100 days! 💫

[mystic-rubysunflower]

SOLAR TRANSITION INTO ♊️ SEASON

when the sun dances into the realm of the twins* 💫👬

•CORRESPONDENCES•

*the mutable air sign of duality and quick wit*

🌬️ **Element:** Air - the breath of curiosity and communication

🔄 **Modality:** Mutable - adaptable, flexible, ever-changing

📅 **Season:** Late Spring (May 21 - June 20)

🌟 **Symbol:** The Twins ♊ - representing duality, versatility, and multiple perspectives

🎭 **Keywords:** Communication, curiosity, wit, adaptability, learning, connection

🔮 Magical Correspondences:

✨ **Colors:** Yellow, silver, light blue, mercury chrome

🌿 **Herbs:** Lavender, mint, parsley, fennel, dill, lemon verbena

💎 **Crystals:** Citrine, clear quartz, agate, amazonite, fluorite

🌸 **Flowers:** Lily of the valley, sweet pea, jasmine

🕯️ **Incense:** Sandalwood, frankincense, eucalyptus

🍃 **Essential Oils:** Peppermint, lemon, bergamot, rosemary

🐦 **Animals:** Birds (especially songbirds), butterflies, parrots

🔢 **Numbers:** 3, 5

📖 **Tarot:** The Lovers (VI)

🏠 THIRD HOUSE CORRESPONDENCES 🏠

*the house of communication and local community*

🗣️ **Domain:** Communication, short journeys, siblings, early education, local environment

💭 **Themes:** Learning, writing, speaking, networking, curiosity, mental agility

🚗 **Associations:** Local travel, neighbors, daily conversations, social media

🔮 Magical Correspondences:

📚 **Focus Areas:** Study magic, communication spells, travel protection

✍️ **Workings:** Writing rituals, blessing new projects, sibling harmony

🌐 **Energy:** Quick-moving, intellectual, social, restless

📱 **Modern Rulership:** Social media, texting, blogging, podcasting

🎒 **Travel Magic:** Short trip blessings, commute protection, safe passage

🗣️ **Communication Magic:** Public speaking confidence, writing inspiration, clear expression

👥 **Community Work:** Neighbor relations, local activism, networking

☿ MERCURY CORRESPONDENCES ☿

*the swift messenger of the gods*

⚡ **Planetary Energy:** Quick, intellectual, communicative, mercurial

📊 **Rulership:** Gemini & Virgo

🌙 **Day:** Wednesday

⏰ **Hours:** 1st and 8th hours after sunrise

🔮 Magical Correspondences:

🎨 **Colors:** Orange, light blue, yellow, multicolored

🌱 **Plants:** Mercury-ruled herbs - mint, parsley, caraway, dill

💎 **Stones:** Agate, aventurine, citrine, opal, quicksilver

🔥 **Metals:** Mercury (quicksilver), brass, mixed metals

🎵 **Musical Note:** E

📿 **Symbols:** Caduceus, winged sandals, the Mercury glyph ☿

✨ Mercury Magic:

🧠 **Mental Clarity:** Enhance focus, memory, learning ability

💬 **Communication:** Improve eloquence, writing skills, teaching

🛣️ **Travel:** Safe journeys, travel planning, navigation

💰 **Business:** Negotiations, contracts, commerce, trading

🔍 **Divination:** Enhance psychic communication, spirit contact

📖 **Study:** Academic success, exam preparation, research

🌟 GEMINI SEASON RITUAL SUGGESTIONS 🌟

💫 Mercury Air Ritual

*Light yellow candles while burning mint incense*

*Call upon Mercury for swift communication and clear thought*

*Write intentions on yellow paper and release to the wind*

🌬️ Twin Flame Meditation

*Sit facing a mirror during sunrise*

*Contemplate your dual nature - light and shadow*

*Ask the Twins to help you integrate all aspects of self*

📚 Knowledge Gathering Spell

*Create a study altar with citrine and mint*

*Charge your books, laptops, and writing tools*

*Ask Gemini to bless your learning journey*

🦋 Social Connection Working

*Use blue candles and lavender*

*Focus on strengthening friendships and community bonds*

*Send messages of love to those you haven't spoken to in a while*

⭐ GEMINI SEASON AFFIRMATIONS ⭐

🗣️ *"I communicate with clarity and confidence"*

🧠 *"My mind is quick, sharp, and receptive to new knowledge"*

🌪️ *"I adapt gracefully to life's constant changes"*

👥 *"I connect authentically with others through honest expression"*

✨ *"I embrace all aspects of my multifaceted nature"*

📖 *"Every conversation teaches me something new"*

🦋 *"I am curious, clever, and endlessly creative"*

🌙 WORKING WITH THIS ENERGY 🌙

**Best Times:**

🌅 Dawn (ruled by Mercury)

📅 Wednesdays

🌬️ When the wind is blowing

📱 During Mercury hour

**Magical Focus:**

✨ Communication enhancement

📚 Learning and education

🤝 Building connections

✍️ Writing and creativity

🛣️ Safe travels

🧠 Mental clarity

*Remember, witches: Gemini season is about embracing change, staying curious, and connecting with the world around you. Let your mind dance with the Twins! 💫*

🔮 *"As above, so below - as Mercury flies, so our thoughts soar"* 🔮

[icefish-bah]

Base Elements Subsystem Pack

、Type：Subsystem

、Collective Name（s）：Crystal，Vivre，Mosaic

、Collective Pronouns：they/it

、Collective Labels：Pansexual，Genderfluid

、Signoff（s）：🔮，⚙️，🧬

、Member Count：6

、Members：Aoife，Cole，Ashe，Atlantis，Zephyr，Mortem

Aoife

、Name（s）：Aoife

、Pronouns：she/they

、Gender（s）：demigirl

、Orientation（s）：Sapphic

、Sys Specific Role（s）：Anchor，Caretaker，Chaperone，Mother figure

、Source（s）：Element of Life

、Likes：Spring，Flowers，Baby animals，Sprouts

、Dislikes：Mentions of death，Dark rooms，Horror

、Insys Relationships：Mortem's sibling, Cole's parent

、Species：Human?

、Signoff（s）：🔆，🌱

Cole

、Name（s）：Cole

、Pronouns：he/it/they/stone

、Gender（s）：Transmasculine

、Orientation（s）：Homoromantic，Asexual

、Sys Specific Role（s）：Dysphoria Protector，Groundskeeper，Moldbreaker，Masculinity holder

、Source（s）：Element of Earth

、Likes：Getting his hands dirty，Weightlifting，Supporting people，Geology

、Dislikes：Heights，Pollution，Big cities，Hot summers

、Insys Relationships：Aoife's child, Mortem's nibling, Frienemies with Zephyr

、Species：Human

、Signoff（s）：🪨，🪱

Ashe

、Name（s）：Ashe

、Pronouns：he/they/she/it/flame/spark

、Gender（s）：Genderfluid

、Orientation（s）：Pansexual

、Sys Specific Role（s）：Mischief manager，Medic，Maslow，Queer Knight

、Source（s）：Element of Fire

、Likes：Summertime，Beaches，Cats， Physical affection

、Dislikes：Bodies of water，Fish，Hothead stereotype，Winter

、Insys Relationships：Queerplatonic relationship with Atlantis

、Species：Human

、Signoff（s）：🔥，🧨

Atlantis

、Name（s）：Atlantis

、Pronouns：it/its

、Gender（s）：Agender

、Orientation（s）：Unlabeled

、Sys Specific Role（s）：Requiemate，Restorative Anchor，Sleeper Agent

、Source（s）：Element of Water

、Likes：Bodies of water ，Fishing，Aquariums，Baths，Water parks

、Dislikes：Winter，Mistreatment of fish at pet stores，Birds，Water pollution

、Insys Relationships：Queerplatonic relationship with Ashe

、Species：Merperson

、Signoff（s）：💧，🌊

Zephyr

、Name（s）：Zephyr

、Pronouns：they／she／he／it／gust

、Gender（s）：Genderfluid

、Orientation（s）：Omnisexual

、Sys Specific Role（s）：Chaosjective，Mischief maker，Social Media Protector

、Source（s）：Element of Air

、Likes：Cool summer breeze，Climbing，Spring，Autumn，Parks，Arcades

、Dislikes：Humid weather，Being stuck indoors，Being alone，Feeling trapped

、Insys Relationships：Frienemies with Cole

、Species：Shapeshifter （Main forms: Human，Hawk）

、Signoff（s）：🍃，💨

Mortem

、Name（s）：Mortem

、Pronouns：it／void／death／skull／rot

、Gender（s）：Agender

、Orientation（s）：Unlabeled

、Sys Specific Role（s）：Misguided protector，Realizer，Ordemate

、Source（s）：Element of Death

、Likes：Bones，Taxidermy，Studying History，Dark rooms，Winter，Autumn

、Dislikes：Bright lights，Crowded spaces，Loud noises，Spring

、Insys Relationships：Aoife's sibling, Cole's pibling

、Species：Unknown

、Signoff（s）：💀，⚰️

[c41nc0r3]

i wrote two essays about how preacher’s daughter impacted my life for someone’s school study (while i was 🍃) and there was so much oversharing (because it’s anonymous & i’m unstoppable) so i want to post them here to feel better

To properly describe the way Preacher’s Daughter has been imprinted into my heart, I can only begin by explaining the things that I’ve experienced in my lifetime that Hayden’s music has immensely helped me grieve and process. To give you the rundown on who I am, I’m a gay, neurodivergent, and ex-Christian teenage boy, who was raised in an Evangelical Christian family in absolutely-nowhere, Florida. The dots connect themselves, but nothing has ever encapsulated this niche of my life like Hayden’s work on Preacher’s Daughter has. The first time I resonated with her music was just last autumn, when I had left my home to live with my father. I was fighting with my mother, to the point of severe mental dysfunction, and I had listened to Family Tree (Intro) for the first time. Hayden sings, “Jesus can always reject his father— but he cannot escape his mother’s blood”. I was left in complete awe. I had found an album that would change my life, with songs that would help me to put my experiences into words as haunting as my memories.

Not to mention, the storytelling of Ethel’s life is outstanding. The complexity of an album about parent failures and unreliable narratives and religious trauma woven into a twisted story of a young girl groomed into carnage is unmatched. Ethel Cain is brought to life and portrayed so personally that a listener can’t help but relate to her. Of course, not *every* listener is going to relate, as there is still extremely sensitive subject matter, which Hayden worked on with an impressive amount of respect and nuance.

I think one of the most underrated songs on the album is Hard Times. Not only is it a vulnerable look into the troubles of Ethel Cain, but it’s a relatable highlight to a core childhood wound of hers. Something about the acoustic strumming and Hayden’s strong humming feels like the burning pain of missing the “good” version of somebody. While there are multiple people this song has helped me grieve, I’ll talk about how I can relate to Ethel herself. As I previously mentioned, I lived with my father for a couple months. For most of my life, I strongly disliked my father. On my middle school graduation day, years ago, he had told me that he knew I was gay, and that he accepted and supported me. My entire relationship with him changed. Over 2 years later, I moved in with him, he became him again, and it wasn’t meant to be. I’m safe, and I’ve moved, but ever since I left I’ve had this burning sense of infancy that comes and goes—remembering what it felt like to hate my father during my childhood.

As one does, I grieve through music. Hayden sings, “I’m tired of you, still tied to me”, in a way that grasps my heart like the unbudging tether between father and child. She disappears into character and the song turns into another teenager my age, singing words we both know by heart.

that was the essay about the album in general…kind of just like a part 1 though.

this next essay is about televangelism but ties off the responses as a pair as well

Televangelism. With 11/13 tracks of an album packed with haunting lyrics like “Freezer bride, your sweet divine / You devour like smoked bovine hide / How funny, I never considered myself tough” (Strangers), & “Don’t worry ‘bout it too hard or you’ll never sleep a wink at night again / Don’t worry ‘bout me and these green eyes / Mama just know that I love you / I’ll see you when you get here” (also Strangers), it’s shocking to say I’m going with an instrumental track. . There is just something so deeply somatic about Hayden’s music. I can recall in my darkest moments in my time living at my father’s, laying in my bed with my headphones on listening to Televangelism, disassociating to the lights on my ceiling. I remember, it was a lot colder because my bedroom was in the garage and it was the middle of winter. I liked it cold, though. I would put on my headphones and listen to Televangelism on loop, feeling the warmth of Ethel’s ascension to Heaven fill my ears and radiate down my spine. It was escapism, survival even. It took my mind off of where I was and reminded me there was better days ahead.

To fully communicate the extent of Televangelism’s impact on me, I want to be very vulnerable about some of the things I have went through. If religious trauma is a sensitive subject I apologize in advance.

I grew up having nearly-daily panic attacks because of the things I had been taught about the Christian God. From 9 years old up to around this time last year, I would go in and out of having major panic attacks about going to hell or being left behind in the rapture. After the resolution of a religious psychosis episode in summer of last year, I had discovered information that had broken the hold that the Christian religion had on me, and I began to heal from my religious trauma.

While “Preacher’s Daughter” as a whole has played a role in my healing process, Televangelism stands out above all tracks. A song composed so beautifully it mimics the sensation of ascending to Heaven, signifying the end of Ethel Cain’s suffering on Earth. It is identical to the feeling of being without extreme fear and anxiety that I discovered for the first time last year. Every time I listen to Televangelism, I get to remember how it felt to discover that my existential worst fear was made up all over again. It was bliss. It was grief. It was heartbreaking, and it was life-changing. This album, while thematically centered around death, symbolizes the magnificence of creation, and how awesome it is to have the ability to bring the story of a character like Ethel Cain to life. I believe that if there is a God out there, “Preacher’s Daughter” was the apology for everything I’ve ever had to grow through.

okay thank you i hope nobody sees this

[au-sonic-smackdown]

AU Sonic Smackdown - Round 1, Right Side

Click to see full size image

Infested AU belongs to @hejjhug

Sonic Thunderstorm AU belongs to @delightrolls

Read more about them under the cut!

Infested AU-

Sonic, under the influence of a mysterious alien brain parasite, has become unpredictable and very, very dangerous. While all his powers remain the same, he now uses his speed to maim and kill anyone who moves. Sonic’s mental state has devolved to basic instinct, and, thanks to the parasite, he is in a near-constant state of feeling like a wild animal trapped in a corner. As a result, he will call upon impossible strength, reserved only for life-or-death scenarios. Pray you don’t catch his attention. You can’t outrun the fastest thing alive.

Sonic Thunderstorm AU-

Sonic the Hedgehog is an Egyptian Long-Eared Hedgehog. Sonic has major Electrokinesis and major Aerokinesis and major Cháokinesis. Sonic is an aromantic quoiromantic asexual aegosexual intersex pangender bordergender narkissigender genderspeed hedgehog with ADHD, BPD, and NPD who uses any pronouns, including storm/storms, ⛈️/⛈️s, thunder/thunders, 🌩️/🌩️s, gale/gales, 🌀/🌀s, bree/breeze, and 🍃/🍃s pronouns. Sonic is a result of the Ultimate Lifeform Project specifically Project Kinesis, a search to cure aging, discover the genes responsible for Kinetic Abilities, and grant Mobian Kinetic Abilities to humans. Many Mobians with Kinetic Abilities were kidnapped and bred to have their abilities studied resulting in the birth of Sonic, their pink and green siblings, and many others. Around the age of 3 - 5 Sonic and well as their mother and two siblings escaped the lab only to drown in the ocean during their get away leaving Sonic as the sole survivor and with an intense fear of water. After being saved from drowning they were put the foster system where they were they were often bullied or excluded by the other children and past around from home to home sometimes being treated well but other times being abused their adoptive families and that combined with never having a stable home leads to them developing BPD. Around the age of 12 - 13 Sonic gets tired of feeling unloved by both the foster homes they lived at and by the people who adopted them only to later throw them away so Sonic decides to run away in the hopes of finding someone who will genuinely care about them. While struggling to survive on their own the hedgehog starts to encounter Eggman and quickly becomes a thorn in his side. Also while searching for a home they encounter Tails, a DID system who is being abused by their family and bullied due to being Autistic. Sonic, sympathetic to their new friend's suffering, encourages them to run away with them to find somewhere better to live. While on their quest for a happy home the two become known for stopping Eggman's evil deeds resulting a couple named Darron Bolos Segaleh and Ilaiya Gotzone Nailah coming to adopting the two. The relationship starts of sweet but in reality Darron really only cares about using to two as mascots for his company and isn't above mistreating and abusing his children when they do something that makes his company loses money or negatively impacts their image. Being treated like a prince when succeeding and as worthless after every mistake leads to Sonic developing NPD. After growing up Sonic eventually goes on to live in a house with a number of their friends including Tails and Sonic is able to finally start recovering from everything that happened to them although they find recovery incredibly difficult. Sonic is a sweet person but is very emotional unstable which can lead to them make mistakes or hurting themself.

[sleepiesthypnosdevotee]

Blessed be one and all.

Have some "brief" Crow's life updates:

-> I finished my first year of university! Hence my inactivity, I fear.

-> I've fell behind on any of my religious studies but that is okay, we're all allowed to take breaks, breathe and have burn out. I haven't been burnt out personally but just overwhelmed.

-> I've been reading Pagans by James Alistair Henry recently, it's good. I've been enjoying it, it has a lot celtic gods, as to be expected. It's set in London in the 21st century but if the Norman invasion has never happened. And it's given me more interest in looking into celtic gods, like Woden, more than I already have. If anyone has good resourced, please either dm me or comment!

-> I went to comic con recently, and it's been decided between me and my family that we have to invest in a wheelchair for me, which when I end up acquiring it will probably get turned into a miniature / portable shrine for Hephaestus, especially as he's recently become a larger part of my practice / worship as a whole recently. I may end up putting a gfm up depending on my needs.

The rest of this post has non-explicit drug talk, along with mental / phsycical health discussions!

Any hate will be deleted 🫶🏻

I haven't been able to be very active recently, health and uni work combined have tanked my energy, and my only real hobbies have been bed rotting, doom scrolling and the occasional 🍃, because who doesn't need a little 🍃 to help with chronic pain on once in a while, you know?

Whilst I have you here, who do we think would be best to 🍃 as an offering / devotional act as? I know it's a weird question, and to some it's an immoral question, but to me, it's part of my life, due to chronic pain. I do worship all the gods, with a focus on a few but I'm curious if people's opinions on this.