#can't be the only one thinking about this

[777rare]

RANDOM ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PT.12

THESE NOTES ARE ONLY A STUDY OF MINE AND HAS/HAS NOT BEEN PROVEN YET, SO IF IT DOES NOT RESONATE WITH YOU, FORGIVE ME AS IT WAS ONLY A STUDY/OBSERVATION OF MINE.

I DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY OR REWORD ANY OF MY FELLOW ASTROLOGY OBSERVERS' POSTS AND I DEMAND THE SAME IN RETURN.

THIS POST HAS 18+ OBSERVATIONS AS WELL, so please be cautious if you choose to read further.

Mars in the 2nd house natives are very very competitive in nature. Anything and everything is a competition to them. 🙉😵‍💫

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Venus in the 3rd house natives are very good at flirting. My friend has this and he really says things that make me blush...and makes me wanna crush his face lol. 🥴😩

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Mercury in the 2nd house natives usually make promises a lot but quite often don't fulfill them or forget about them later on. They are more Talk, less Walk. 😮‍💨👍

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Sun in the 12th house natives are curious about sex and 18+ stuff at a very very young age. By that, I don't always mean losing your virginity at a young age. I mean learning about all this and being curious about it at a very young age, like at the age you are not supposed to be thinking about all this. 🙇‍♀️😶

EXAMPLE: I have this placement too and yes, I was at least 5 years old when I wondered whether people had intercourse (even though I didn't know it was called that, at that time)...yeah, when I found out they actually did, I was like EW and then I was like "DAMN. EW but WOAH" and was even more curious and learnt a lot about everything before I turned 10 years old. I did feel ashamed that I had such curiosities at such a raw age, but I am trying to accepted it through Shadow Work 🤧. NO. I never had "it", don't jump to conclusions people. ✋🙂

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Fire sign Venus natives crave reciprocation in relationships, otherwise they don't want the relationship at all. If they remember the small things about you, they want you to remember the small things about them as well.

If you send them a song, they will send you a song back as a message. You'll know a fire Venus native actually likes you or even Loves you for that matter, if they reciprocate your actions. 🔥🫂

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An Earth Mars woman likes a man who can stand up for her. Not a coward or a man who runs the minute she has problems. An Earth Mars woman craves a man who would protect her when she can't, mainly Capricorn Mars ladies. 💁‍♀️🤺

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In any kind of synastry, be it with a friend, a family member, a lover, an acquaintance, etc, 8th house SATURN overlay will always either:

Cause the Saturn person to intentionally or unintentionally hurt the house person, making their insecurities and fears worser. The house person will love and hold the Saturn person in high regards despite being hurt several times. 😕🤧

The Saturn person and the house person will be the ones calming each others insecurities and fears, being the ones proving them wrong. They will the first person in eachother's lives who prove those insecurities wrong and will prove to eachother that people like both of them exist. 🫂✨

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Saturn in the 5th house natives don't just wanna have flings, random hook-ups and one night stands with anyone. They want down bad serious relationships where they will only have sex with their committed partner. Sure, they will find some chapter attractive, but they won't give it all for just anyone. 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨🤌

Usually these individuals are afraid of not pleasing their partner in bed and not being fun for their partner. These natives are afraid that their partners will get bored of them one day. They also are sort of afraid of physical intimacy because they don't think they look good enough naked and their partner will judge their body. 🥲😮‍💨

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Mercury in 2nd house or Taurus natives are more logical thinking and have a more realistic approach towards life while Mercury in 12th house or Pisces natives are more dreamy and kinda delulu with their approach towards life and also have more emotional thinking.

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I know damn well I have 8th house synastry with someone either when:

I instantly find them hard to look away from and when we catch eye contact, we just keep looking at each other. It's like no name is required, just two strangers talking to each other through their eyes. [BENEFIC OVERLAYS]

When I am annoyed by their presence for no damn reason, like I just hate looking at their face and hearing them talk, and they clearly hate me too from their body language and behavior around me. [MALEFIC OVERLAYS]

Personally, I also know damn well I'm always the house person *emotional damage* 🥲👍.

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In composite chart and synastry chart, I feel like Moon plays a very important role in showing the emotional connection, understanding and reliability between both the individuals. When Moon sits in reciprocation houses (2nd,4rth,6th,8th, or 12th) both the individuals take each other seriously when it comes to emotions.

If the Composite chart has Cancer rising, then the connection revolves around emotional dependency and emotional depth but the connection will be very unsteady and unpredictable.

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6th house synastry (BENEFIC PLACEMENTS) is actually so so fun and beautiful, both the individuals love spending time with each other. The planet person brings a lot of new things to the life of the house person, especially if Uranus is there.

The house person usually shows their affection through Acts of Service, like opening the door for you, letting you take a seat first, helping you carry your bags, helping you learn something, making you cookies, etc.

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Saturn in sexual houses (5th,8th, or 12th), Inner planets in Capricorn or Aquarius, or Saturn's connection with those house lords definitely is an indicator that chains, being tied up, tying up their partner, being put on their knees or putting their partner on their knees, their sexual discipline being tested by their partner or them testing their partners sexual discipline, etc are all part of the natives kinks and desires in bed.

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Moon in Capricorn or Aquarius or 10th/11th house can also have, being tied up, chained and having their discipline tested by their partner be a huge turn on and desire for them, in bed. When I say discipline, I mean them obeying their partner when their partner tells them not to cum to test if they would listen to them, stuff like that.

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Is it me or are all Aquarius Sun or Moon very very slow in responding to texts most of the time? Like personally, I am so tired of answering texts and I spend so much time doing nothing instead of answering them lmao.

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Is anyone else not just a particular zodiac sign by birth but also has both their inner planets, Sun and Moon in their birth Zodiac? Comment down if you do, cuz I am an AQUARIUS Sun and Moon and I am born and AQUARIAN. If you checked my blood with a microscope, you'd find Aquarius written all over hahahaha 😂🙌.

If yes, then you purely behave like that zodiac sign, even if you have a Day chart or Night chart.

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The driest texters possible on planet Earth are Aquarius Saturn or 11th house Saturn. They are the natives who text short or take a long time to text back. Most of the time they read messages but don't respond back. These natives, most of the time, prefer offline conversation over online texting.

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You can't deny this, Moon in 11th house or Aquarius individuals are amazing at sexting. It's in their blood to naturally turn their partner on with just a few flirty texts. These natives like sexting too because they like making their their partner imagine what they would do with them and not do it with them for real lol. Perfect illusion 🤫😂.

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Taurus placements or 2nd house placements (esp. Stellium) love Desert's and chocolate. They love waffles and donuts and stuff like that. These placements love eating food in general and if you judge them for it, they'll eat you too😂🤫 jkjk.

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I've observed that a person with Exalted Mars or developed Mars has a good spice tolerance while Debilitated Mars or underdeveloped Mars has quite a weak spice tolerance. Other Mars placements and signs have an average spice tolerance.

My sister has Mars in Taurus in the 3rd house and she LOVES spicy food, like she wants the level of spice that would make her tounge fall off lol 🔥😭. While one of my friend has underdeveloped Scorpio Mars in 2nd house and he cannot tolerate spice AT ALL.

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Uranus in the 12th house will most definitely cause sleeping issues. Why? Most people say, it's because it's underdeveloped in this house but I think Uranus is a very active planet, a planet that only keeps moving and jumping here and there.

In my head, I see Uranus as this young kindergarten boy who's hyperactive and can't decide what he wants for sure. So when you Uranus sits in the 12th house, a house of mental and subconscious work, a house where planets are deserted and left in the fog, a house where there's more subconscious work than physical, Uranus get's frustrated and suppressed here.

It's like expecting the child to relax and observe instead of jumping so much. Well, Uranus is also a rebel so he will try his level best to go against this house which will affect the native. How? The native will have a very wavering subconscious, always thinking and thinking, about something or the other. Even in the native's sleep, the native is made to see his/her future events, further making the subconscious work even more than it should.

Uranus will disrupt the mental peace and subconscious of the native, making the native constantly analyze every detail of events and dreams in their life. These natives find it hard to rest in their sleep because their astral body is very active and roams everywhere during their sleep causing the native to wake up tired.

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Thankyou for reading through this today, I hope you have a wonderful day ahead. I am forever grateful for all your love and support.

[moonstruckme]

Hi!

I just watched 'me before you' (so sad wtf)

Anyways the one scene with the bumblebee tights? I can't stop thinking about it and was wondering if you could write something with whimsical!reader and the marauders (individual or poly) inspired by that?

Oh that is the cutest little storyline! Thanks for the request angel <3

cw: reader has hair long enough to have a clip in, but the hair itself isn't described

James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 1k words

James grins at the blue vervain hung above your front door before he knocks three times, hiding the small gift bag behind his back. You open with an easy smile on your face. It widens once you see him. 

“James,” you say, voice a pleased hum. “I thought we already went on our date?” 

“We did,” James agrees, “yesterday, but…” he digs in his pocket “...I think you left this in my car.” 

“Oh.” Your eyes widen delightedly at the large acorn he holds out in his palm. “I did! I was going to call and tell you, but I thought surely by this morning it would be gone.” 

James feels his eyebrows bunch even as he smiles. “Where would it have gone, lovely?” 

“Well, it’s a very nice acorn, so I thought for certain faeries would pluck it up if I left it unattended. I wouldn’t have blamed them, it’s only fair.” 

James doesn’t see anything particularly remarkable about the acorn—aside from it being rather large—but you often see beauty in stuff that James doesn’t. It’s one of the things he loves about you. He’s learned that you collect these sorts of things the way other people might collect postage stamps; it’s not for him to question. 

“I’m glad it was still there, though,” you say, pushing up on your toes to give him a kiss that, in James’ opinion, is far too brief. “Thank you for keeping it safe.” 

“It was no problem.” He leans forward for another kiss, but you’re already turning, disappearing into your home. 

He follows you inside, though you haven’t invited him in—sometimes these things simply don’t seem to occur to you; James is learning to interpret your cues. 

“You look lovely today,” he says. 

You send him a curious look. “You always say that.” 

“It’s always true.” 

“It can’t be the same amount of true every time,” you say, finding a place for your acorn on the windowsill above your kitchen sink. You’ve a small collection of things there, from propagated plants to dead bugs to little origami stars. 

“Can’t it?” James asks. 

“My hair never looks exactly the same,” you point out, not arguing so much as musing in the way you’re given to, “and last week when you saw me I didn’t have any spots, but today I have two.” 

James captures you in a gentle embrace, his hand on your cheek. “You’re just as lovely,” he vows, kissing you, “every single time.” 

Your eyes have gone soft and cloudy; you’re easily mollified. “If you say so.” 

“I do.” He kisses you again, smiling. “I have something for you.” 

“Mm, for me?” 

“Who else?” He reveals the gift bag. The tips of his fingers are buzzing with excitement. “Open it.” 

You take the bag, appearing bemused. “It’s not my birthday.” 

“I know that.” 

“Is it a holiday?” 

“No.” 

You look at James, still not opening the bag. “What’s this for, then?” 

“Maybe I just like to give you things,” he says. “It made me think of you.” 

“Oh.” You relax, the mystery resolved. “Because you’re nice.” 

“Sure. Would you just open it, please?” 

“Okay.” You give James a puzzled sort of smile, but part the folds of the bag. “Oh.” Your voice softens as you look inside. “Oh, James, this is lovely.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, suddenly nervous as you draw it out. Up until just this moment, he’d felt nothing but confidence that you would love it, but now he’s unsure. “Do you like it?” 

“Yes.” You turn over the barrette in your hand, expression awed. It’s a dragonfly, larger than life and incredibly detailed, with wings an iridescent green color that shimmer in the light coming in through your kitchen window. “It goes in my hair?” 

“Yeah, but there’s a trick to making it work.” James leans closer, giddy. “Can I show you?” 

You nod mutely, and he leans over, blowing gently on the gift. 

In the palm of your hand, the dragonfly comes to life. You gasp as its wings shift and flutter, the colors becoming even more vibrant. If you look really closely, even its tail is moving, the only still part of it the legs so that they stay fixed in your hair while you’re wearing it. It took a nifty bit of charmwork to achieve that amount of specificity. 

Your eyes are alight with wonder. It’s the sweetest thing James has ever seen, and he knows—if the ministry cracks down on him, if he’s never allowed to practice magic again—he knows he’s done the best thing. 

“It’s beautiful,” you say, softly, as though afraid to scare the creature. “Where did you find this?” 

“Just—at a market.” James tries to sound casual. “It was a pop-up, I think. Cool that they make them like this, yeah?” 

You make a sound of agreement, eyes still on the dragonfly as it begins to settle down. “It’s like magic.” 

James leans over to kiss your forehead. “Want me to put it on for you?” 

Your expression lights up as though the possibility hadn’t yet occurred to you. “Could you? Please?” 

“Of course, lovely. Give it here.” 

You transfer the barrette to James’ hand delicately. He smiles at how preciously you treat it, turning you by your shoulder to fix it in the back of your head. Once he gets it situated—James really isn’t very experienced at styling hair—he draws you into the bathroom so you can approve. 

“Can you blow on it?” you ask when he holds up a mirror for you to see the back of your head, barely leashed excitement in your tone. 

James does, and you make the most elated sound he’s ever heard from you. He laughs as you turn to put your arms around him, his soft-spoken, placid girl nearly jumping with glee. 

“Thank you,” you say, pressing your lips to his. “Thank you, James. No one’s ever gotten me anything so thoughtful.” 

James reckons he has a thing or two left to do about that.

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU GOT A GIRL ?

summary : in which Tim's brothers find out he not only has a girlfriend but she's actually real and attractive and idk dating HIM of all people ???

Tim Drake is a busy man , his family knew that I meant come on ?? The kid is Red Robin, juggling Wayne Enterprises , solving cases, and not mention he attends college.

Not in a million years would they guess he of all of them would have a girlfriend and that he of all of them would have a functional relationship before any if them.

It started subtle at first - he'd finish patrol early , not really a big deal since they'd all assume he was busy with school and just had to go home.

Well truns out he was going home just not to do work just to simply have dinner with you.

The next sign was that he had a picture of you at the back of his phone - it's encased safely behind the clear casing . Dick saw it at first and shrugged it off, thinking it was a kpop idol or some model Tim liked alot - nope it was just him being in love with you and just showing it off.

Tim unironically smells better ? Damian doesn't know how to place it - its not that Tim ever smelled bad or had bad hygiene it's just that he's been particularly very into it as of late - he literally even has a skin care routine now but Damian writes it off as Tim being curious or weird.

Tim also starts dressing classier too like he wears good slacks or nice baggy jeans with fitted tops - showing off his slim but muscular figure as of late - he even asked Jason to borrow one of his old leather jackets and hey - Jason didn't mind lending his brother one - he just thought Tim was getting into the grunge style like him. Nope, it turns out Tim overheard you saying guys in leather jackets were hot, so of course, he had to get the real thing.

Flash forward to like a year and a half down the line and one day all three of them were talking about how Tim was glowing up and getting himself in shape .

Dick : " you know Tim's been idk dressing up as of late ".

Damian : " smh it's like he's pathetically trying to impress someone "

Jason : " I thought he was just idk changing his style ?"

Dick : " you think ? Plus he's been ending patrol early lately"

Damian : " he's a nerd Grayson , knowing him he gets home earlier to study or what not ".

Jason : *cackling* " and he wonders why he can't get a girlfriend "

*Tim who just walked in and overheard jason* : " I literally have a girlfriend. What do you mean ?"

Pin drop silence . Everyone stares at him, eye wide and then they burst out cackling.

Jason : " Timmy boy a blow up sex doll doesn't count a girlfriend"

Dick : *laughing* " Tim the day you get a girlfriend is the day the world would end"

Damian : " Timothy, that's the best joke you have ever uttered."

Tim scowls at them , " I LITERALLY HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND SHES A REAL PERSON"

Damian *still laughing* : " Alright Timothy, let's meet your so-called very real girlfriend."

Flash forward to two hours later and they're at a local Lego shop at the mall , the batboys are all confused .

Jason : " Tim, when we said a real girl, we didn't mean a Lego woman figure"

Tim just rolled his eyes - annoyed because he can't fathom why they didn't think he can't have a girlfriend .

Not even two minutes passed, and you bolted out of the store and engulfed Tim in a big hug and began kissing him all over his face. Tim wore a big , smug smile as he wrapped his hand around your waist and pressed you a forehead kiss.

Dick's mouth is too the floor , Jason's eyes just widen so big you'd swear his eyes will roll out and Damian looks like he's gonna hurl.

Damian : " I think - I think I going to die "

Jason *still in shock* : " There is no way this is real - literally no way I've got to be imagining shit "

Dick : " Someone pinch me " *Damian pinches him hard* " OUCH WHAT THE FUCK"

Jason points at you and then at Tim , " Miss is he holding you hostage -"

Tim rolls his eyes , " SHES MY GIRLFRIEND"

Damian tuts , " She's too hot to be with the likes of you she should date someone better "

Dick : " Like me -"

Shutting him down immediately, Tim : " Fuck no"

You awkwardly laughing , " So you're Tim's brothers ?"

Jason : " unfortunately ". *dick nudges him hard* " OW WTF"

You : " It's nice to meet you all I'm Tim's girlfriend "

Dick : " yeah that's the part we are all processing"

Damian : " Are you sure you're not talking about another tim?"

Tim , scowling : " Shut the fuck up demon she said she's my girlfriend so can yall stop being so annoying now "

You : " They didn't think you'd have a girlfriend ?"

Tim : " no and I don't know why especially since they themselves don't have one either "

Jason : " in my offense I died -"

Dick : " Pack it up. It's been 4 years since you came back. You got no excuse "

Jason : " I know the man who has fumbled every relationship he touches is not talking "

Damian : " This is all pointless. Love is stupid and worthless"

As the both continue to bicker back and forth, you turn to Tim with a wide grin , " Who do you think is worse ?"

Tim , pulling you in closer , : " Definitely Bruce "

*in a very far distance*

You laugh as you grab his hand and left him off somewhere , " Let's go get milkshakes".

Bruce *sneezes* : " Someone is trash talking me "

ty for reading !!!

[cherrygirlfriend]

Hii love, I can't stop thinking about pervert!reader overhearing rafe talking with his friends and rafe being a little cocky about how he pulled reader (when in reality everyone knows that she pulled him since he couldn't even look at her BC he was so shy) and him being the one who got the pants in the relationship so reader gets in and puts him in his place, being so flirty and touchy that he can't even speak properly

how to tease your nerd

…or pervert!reader overhears nerd!rafe boasting and decides to teach him a lesson.

you were on your way to rafe’s dormitory, carrying a tray of chocolate cupcakes in your arms that you’d baked for him, wanting to congratulate your boyfriend on having been the only one in his class to receive the perfect grades on one of his midterms, the professor known to be the professor with the most difficult course.

the hem of your floral dress was swishing against your thighs, your heels clacking against the floor, and as you were lifting your hand to knock on the door, you noticed that it was slightly ajar, and you could hear people speaking inside. most people would knock, or make their presence know in another way, but you always were the nosy type.

you leaned closer to the door, biting down on your bottom lip, being able to make out your boyfriend’s voice.

“oh yeah, she was so into me.” rafe chuckled, “i was so smooth and charming. she was like melted butter at every word i said. she couldn’t get enough. you just gotta be interested in everything she says, ask things about her, and plenty of physical contact.”

you had to hold in a snort; it was adorable, really, how the boy that stuttered every time that you’d flirted with him, whose face turned red every time you touched him, was now boasting to his friends about how he had managed to get you to date him, when the smartest guy you’d ever met couldn’t even realize you had feelings for him without you having to say it straight up.

maybe you should mess with him a bit.

you knock on rafe’s door loudly, before pushing it open. your boyfriend was sitting on his bed, two of his friends sitting around the room. the moment rafe’s eyes landed on you, they widened and his cheeks started to redden, “b-babe, hi. what are you doing here? y’didn’t text me or anything…”

“oh, i wanted to congratulate my baby.” you said, holding up the cupcakes. rafe’s friends were staring at you with wide eyes as you put down the tray of cupcakes onto his desk before sitting right next to him, making sure to be pressed as close to him as possible, looking up at his friends, “so, who are these?”

“t-these are my friends.” rafe mumbled with a tight smile, clearing his throat, “guys, this is my girlfriend.”

“wow.” one of the guys let out, causing tou to chuckle under your breath, “rafe, how’d you-“ he was interrupted by the boy sitting next to him, starting to turn red.

“what were you three talking about?” you asked in a sickly-sweet tone, turning to face rafe, batting your eyelashes at him, putting your hand on his thigh.

“n-nothing…” rafe mumbled under his breath, the boy’s hand going to scratch the back of his head, “just— uh, just-“

“games.” one of his friends interfered as a way to save your boyfriend’s ass, and you could hear a small breath of relief leave his lips.

“oh, games.” you cooed, resting your head on rafe’s shoulder, your eyes still on him, while he did his best to look at anywhere but you, your hand nearing his inner thigh, squeezing at the muscle.

“we- we should go.” one of the boys said,

“oh, already?” your bottom lip twisted into a pout, “that’s too bad. be sure to grab some cupcakes. i don’t think rafey can eat them all by himself.”

both of them snorted at the nickname you called rafe by, awkwardly fleeing out of the room, your boyfriend’s face completely red and a semi visible in his sweatpants. “what’s wrong baby?” you cooed sweetly. “i thought you were supposed to be smooth and charming.” rafe’s eyes widened as he pulled his face back slightly, his brain registering his words, “y-you heard that?”

“oh yeah.” you grinned, trailing a manicured finger down his jawline. “but don’t worry. i thought it was adorable.” you leaned closer to rafe, your lips inches away from his as you squeezed his thigh, a small whine leaving his lips, “but you don’t have to pretend for me.”

feel free to send requests and check out my masterlist! <3

[ilium-ilia]

john price x fem!reader | word vomit | drabble | dub-con/non-con | smut | unhinged price | unreliable narrator | unedited | don't poke the bear, love

You should've known better.

Strange men with debauched desires lurk in all rancid corners of the internet waiting for the right moment to prey on something as sweet as you. You—all soft smiles and head tilts, eyes shining as you listen to him ramble about all the work he's put into all while beaming about how well he did and how it will make the perfect commuter car for work. He can't help but think how stupid it is of you to come here to meet him alone, at his house, dressed like this. Shorts that expose enough skin to beat the heat and a tank top to match—body glistening with perspiration.

John realizes that you're smart. You know well enough to talk him up about all modifications that were made, and remember the milage for this model off the top of your head. You speak eloquently. Well educated. When he asks you where you work, you're not smart enough to give him a fake answer.

You're not smart enough to deny him when he offers you a drink of water inside of his house, either.

(Just to cool you down, love).

Beads of water on delicious lips, he leans against the counter as he listens to you ramble. Never once does he ask for you to open up, but you split yourself anyway. Tender flesh peeling back like the skin of an orange. It rolls. Flakes off. Advertises your juicy insides to a man who's dying of thirst.

He'll teach you to be better. That's what he tells himself, anyway. He'll show you how to push someone away when their fingers brush against your bare shoulder, not lean into the warmth like you are now. Mindlessly, you look up at him. Your lips are still wet enough for him to lick them and be satiated—hydrated fully well off of mere dew alone. Your eyes lock onto him, and your lips grow tighter.

Don't you know any better? Don't you know that you're advertising ripe meat in front of a very hungry creature?

No—maybe you do.

Maybe that's why you don't put up much of a fight when he presses your hips into the counter and snakes his thumbs beneath the waistband of your shorts. Maybe that's why your whining is quiet and pitchy as he yanks them down, arse fully exposed. Maybe it's why your tears fall silently as he grinds against your cunt.

(Stupid girl. Don't you know that you shouldn't play with wild animals?)

As he feeds his cock into you—inch by aching inch—he grunts about the rules. His rules. The ones you're going to follow from here on out. No being alone with strange men. Only show your teeth when you're ready to bite or be bitten (really, a smile is nothing more than a poorly hidden growl, after all). Most importantly be smart—smarter than this.

Fingers curling into your hips, he chuckles as you reach behind yourself, nails scraping poorly against his stomach, unable to break any skin through the cotton of his shirt. How cute you are. Little rabbit wandering into the bear's den and wondering why she's being bitten.

Then, hips stilling, he spills into you. Cock pulsing inside of you, your pules only grow stronger as he keeps himself buried deep inside of you. Warm, frothy cum spills out of you, seeping around where he plugs you full. He tells himself he'll teach you better than to allow that to happen, too.

"You know love..." He's tracing your spine. Bear-claw finger raking down your skin, one step away from a razor sharp enough to cut your clothes from your body. You quiver, rabbit-flesh sobbing beneath his touch. "If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask."

[comicaurora]

sorry if this is out of left field but you seem to have a lot of good insights on emotions and self awareness so i thought you might be a good person to ask. do you know if theres any good way to deal with jealousy? like, the genuine "other people having/getting certain things makes me want to explode" kind of jealousy that sits in your brain making you feel guilty. (feel free to delete this ask if ur not cool with it btw, i know this is a weird thing to ask a stranger on the internet)

Oogh, that's a tough one.

I think jealousy is a bit of a weird little funhouse mirror. In my experience, while it feels like it's about the lives and achievements of others, it's structurally based on you comparing yourself to them, or rather using them as a metric to judge yourself by. It circles back around to a matter of self esteem. The person you're feeling jealous of isn't the target of the feeling - you are.

Jealousy can feel very poisonous, because it can make you feel extremely negatively towards innocent people, making you feel like a bad person for feeling that way. But it's totally normal to feel negatively towards people who don't deserve any actual negativity - feelings and moods are shaped by a huge number of internal factors, and as long as you don't take them out on the people themselves, you feeling some kinda way doesn't in any way make you a bad person. It just means you're in distress, and it would benefit you to figure out how to mitigate that distress. I don't trust how I feel about slow walkers and loud chewers after a long and overstimulating day, and the Bite Risk feeling I experience when those situations overlap doesn't mean I'm a bad person, it just means I need a nap.

Like most emotions, jealousy has a function and a purpose it serves. I think it's to give you an idea of your goals. It can be deceptively difficult to know what you want, in both the short and the long term. Seeing someone else get something and thinking "oh, that's what I want" can be a valuable first step in pursuing something. You might envy someone's achievements because you yourself want to achieve something you're proud of; you might envy someone's likable personality because you want more, closer friends. It's a reflection of you, not really about them at all.

When a feeling of jealousy pops up, I think it can be good to unpick it and process what exactly you're feeling jealous of. That's going to be the important, actionable thing that you can start intentionally pursuing for yourself. Envy of someone's appearance might actually be wanting their active, exciting lifestyle that sounds fun and energizing, or it could be wanting their confidence, or their financial security that keeps them dressed so nicely. Envy of someone's success could be wanting to accomplish a similar great work, or it could be a desire for fame, or for the close friends they seem to have made in their journey, or anything else.

It's not bad to want things. The only thing wrong with jealousy is the undertone that you could take this thing from the person who has it. You can't; that's not how it works. But you can sate the hunger for yourself if you can find the path forward.

[strwberri-milk]

Could you do a drabble with Rafayel and Sylus individually where MC Reader has an accident during a mission and forgot everyone and everything BUT them

To explain better, she's forgotten everyone in her life and doesn't remember her coworkers, where she is, who she is, what happened during that mission. But when she sees them, she immediately recognizes them.

Like imagine the worry they'd feel getting the call that their beloved is in the hospital and doesn't remember anything and perhaps worry that she has forgotten them again but this time, they're the only thing she remembers. Sorry if this sounds odd or weird!

Rafayel is relieved, honestly. The second he hears that you've got amnesia he's freaking out and trying to figure out if he can somehow convince you to fall in love with him one more time. His heart is torn and he can't think of anything but what sort of state he'll find you in.

He sees how afraid you look, the nerves as you try to comprehend what all the medical staff are telling you. He practically rushes into the hospital room much to the chagrin of all the staff. They try to stop him, worried that a strange man coming into your room would make you panic but when you call out his name he's by your side, holding you tightly as he soothes you.

The staff see how settled you are with him and decide that it's better to keep Rafayel by your side, even if he's crying a bit, totally emotional over the fact that you somehow still remember him despite losing memory of everything else. He'll take you back home with him the second you're discharged and not a moment sooner, wanting to make sure you feel safe.

He'll pamper you and do everything he can to try and help you while you recover. He gently tries to help you remember things about your own life, knowing that to see you thrive is another way to feel the love that you have. He does sort of love the fact that you know nothing but him right now which makes you almost depend on him, but he also wants you to be able to have a sense of independence from him, which is why he'll work with you at your own pace to help rebuild a life that's also your own.

Sylus is almost afraid to see you again. He stands outside your room, waiting for the staff to let him in as he tries to figure out what he'll do if it turns out that you've forgotten him once again. He already had a hard time dealing with it when he first saw you after so long but now he thinks he might be crushed if he sees that lack of recognition mixed in with a slight fear.

The staff introduce him to you when he's finally allowed in and he's a little taken aback by how distraught you look when you see him. His heart clenches and he's prepared to leave to avoid worsening your condition but he sees you reach out to him, saying his name in such a broken voice he knows that you recognise him.

He's right by your side, speaking to you softly as he reassures you he's right there with you. He takes your hand in both of his, dwarfing your bedside as he leans over and kisses your knuckles reverentially. He watches you as you rest, refusing to leave your bedside until you can come home with him.

He doesn't want to remold your life but he wants to make you comfortable. He'll ask you what you want, and assist either way. If you decide just knowing him is enough then the two of you will take the approach of remembering your previous life slower as you build a new one together - that's, if you even want to remember before him at all. If you want to remember everything before him as well then he's there all the way, making sure you don't over do it while supporting you in every way.

[unholyfudgebiscuits]

Being Human

Derek knows humans are fragile in comparison to wolves. He did have human siblings after all and his mother drilled their vulnerability into him since he was old enough to understand. He knows he has to be gentle around them, knows they are weaker and prone to sickness. Consciously he knows this, but he isn't at all prepared for when Stiles—the only human in the pack—is hurt.

Actually hurt.

Gasping, crying, arms shaking in pain hurt.

He doesn't know what the fuck to do. Because they're alone, trapped, and he can smell the wrongness coming off the human. He can hear his heartbeat fluctuating from weak to sporadic and the sweat and blood and scent of fear blankets the enclosed space so profoundly he thinks he's going to suffocate off the smell.

He siphons away whatever he can but there's still too much. It's barely a bandage over an open artery, like trying to put out a fire with an eyedropper. Even with him pulling away most of the pain the infection has already spread. Every gasping breath and rattling cough has Derek's body twitching in panic.

Human.

The word is a curse, a defect in his world. If Stiles were a wolf he could re-brake and heal the broken rib digging into his lung. The gash on his side would have slowed in it's bleeding if not stopped all together. If he were a wolf there would be no infection or sickness or bloody nose. The bite is a gift.

Derek doesn't know what to do with the frail, weakened human laying with his head on his thigh. He can't even think through the dread and worry and helplessness. Stiles curls in on himself, leans into the hand that is trying to staunch the blood and pull away the pain.

"Not quite how I imagined things would go when I daydreamed about my face down in your lap Sourwolf..." He jokes. Derek almost wants to shake him for it. Stiles is dying and he's joking.

"Don't talk. The pack should be here soon."

"N-Not talk? Have you met me? I'm alone in the dark with Beacon Hill's most eligible grump and you expect me not to make a sex joke?"

"Stiles!" Derek growls and then stops when he hears the awful whistling sound coming from his chest.

"I'm fine. Just a little fever..." Derek wishes it were just a little fever. Wishes he knew the difference between a little fever and this. He doesn't remember his baby sister feeling this warm when his mother said she was sick. He doesn't really remember much of the younger ones... the human ones. Maybe he'd be more helpful if he did...

"Stop it." Stiles chastise. "You keep frowning like that and you're eyebrows will grow together." Derek hates that he does this... Hates that he's the one in pain and he's still trying to lighten Derek's mood. Hates that he's smiling at him through a grimace, that he's looking at him like he's worth something when he knows he isn't.

"I'm okay Der." Stiles says gently. "You k-know you can't actually get rid of me right? I've sorta got a pool going with the pack. How long it'll take till I can get you to say you love me. It's gotta be unironically of course. Lydia's rules." Derek feels his heartbeat tick up at that and Stiles smiles. "I say this year, Scott gave you three. But I know I'm your favorite so it shouldn't be hard."

"Stop moving." He begs when Stiles turns onto his back to look up at him.

"Better view."

"Stiles!" Stubborn! Humans were stubborn. Weak and frail and as stubborn as they came.

"You're beautiful." Stiles murmurs and Derek feels his breath catch in his throat. "Maybe that's wrong to say to a guy huh? But like, I always thought it. Y-Your eyes. I like looking at them. Even when you go all grumpy and broody and flash red at me, they're still beautiful."

Derek feels Stiles' body shake with another jolt of pain and maybe, he's the one crying now. "You gotta promise me something Der, okay? P-Please. You gotta take care of my dad."

"Don't-"

"Would you just listen? I love Scott, I trust him with my life. He's my brother when it comes down to it but he's pretty freaking useless when he's got a new girlfriend with him and dad's going to be bad for a while. He'll drink. A lot... or worse he'll just jump head first into any job they throw at him. P-Please just watch over him for me?." Derek feels himself nodding and Stiles' pained smile widens.

"You know you've always been my alpha right?" Derek startles at that. "Like I said, I love Scott and I love the pack. I'd do anything for any one of you but... since the beginning. Since the start, you've always been my alpha."

"Stiles-"

"Just take care of dad. Scott will be okay, Lydia might need you more than she lets on. And Isaac says he doesn't want anything to do with you but it's not true. I-It's not. If anything he wants you to be proud of him. So call him okay? He'd be on the next flight home, he'd be back here at your side the second he sees your name light up. He kept the same number. Explain it to him. Tell him why you sent him away. N-Not for you, for him. He thinks you hate him, don't let him think it anymore."

Derek can't understand. Can't begin to make sense of this human. This small, 145 pound, eighteen year old looking up at him with all the tranquility and calmness of a condemned man. He's no longer scared. Fear has been replaced with a sense of serenity and its worse! Far worse than the terror. Derek presses harder onto the bleeding wound, chokes on the sob that wants to wrench it's way out of his throat when he hears it... The low howl a mile off.

He covers Stiles' ears and howls back, feeling relief and hope and looking at those confused brown eyes that haven't stopped watching him since they ended up in this hell hole.

"D-Der?"

"I love you." He says, because he does. Because he's never not cared for this ridiculous human being. He had been his headache, his friend, his anchor... The one who has protected him, saved him, given him a family when he never thought he deserved it. The resilient, caring little human that looked at him like he meant something. Like he was worthy of meaning something.

Resilient and stubborn and caring and selfless and fragile... And Derek wishes he were half the human Stiles is.

[kkusuka]

i'm back on my medic bullshit.

being hired to be the medic for an elite task force came with it's own insanity- which you prepared for.

you prepared for the amount of blood, Sergeant MacTavish and his tendency to get shot in the arm, then not heading your warning about overusing said arm, then blowing his stiches causing even more blood.

you prepared to be fought against, Captain Price and his need to be constantly working and on top of things, which he can't exactly do with a nasty concussion from being in a helicopter crash, but he only listens to you after getting flash banged by his own office lights.

you prepared to be listened to, Sergeant Garrick is like an angel in a sea of demons, it's not often, but when he does get injured he hangs off of every word you say to him. he comes in early for his check-ups, heads your warnings and even got you a little mug when you clear him for field activities.

you even prepared to get nothing, Lieutenant Riley doesn't get hurt, then when he does he just sits and listens to you rattle on about how to take care of his ankle, then he leaves with a nod of his head.

what you did not prepare for was walking in on poor Sergeant MacTavish- after a nasty fall out of a moving truck, then rolling into a ditch and diving right into a river- sat up, head thrown back, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. he isn't nearly as shocked as you were, there was always a risk of someone walking in on you in the military and he had been practically shouting your name.

and Johnny was not the 141 member known for sweet-talking but he somehow convinces you that getting him off will not only make him feel better now, but it will also exponentially speed up his recovery! and so you end up on your knees, licking his cock up and down as his hand guides the back of your head.

and, to your dismay, he did make a speedy recovery, but gave your blowjob skills all of the credit. and he made sure everyone possible knew about your magical skills. (you were worried about getting fired for malpractice, the 141 was plotting who was gonna be next.)

now they didn't all suddenly throw themselves in the path of danger, no amount of horniness would make them risk their jobs, but no one can help not getting hurt every once in a while.

Sergeant Garrick getting his face thrown into a concrete wall and just needing you to sit on it to make him feel better. hands holding your hips to his face, tongue circling your clit as you try to hold onto the metal headboard of the infirmary room. and one time just isn't enough, most medicine takes a few doses before it can actually start working, so he needs you on your back, and bent over the bed, and sitting on the examination table; not to mention those weekly check-ins to make sure he's actually healing.

then Captain Price gets caught in a nasty helicopter crash, his leg is hurt, not broken, but he can't do anything but paperwork for a month. and that's ok! because he has you to sit on his cock for hours, you don't want him to be lonely while his team gets to be together, and laswell is for too busy to keep him company. and it really will help him to have your tight pussy squeezing his cock while he completes his work. and since it's all confidential, he can’t have you reading over all of it, so his only choice is fucking you until the only thing you can think about are his fingers playing with your clit and his cock fucking into you.

Lieutenant Riley doesn't get hurt, so he has to get a little creative. (he wants to just pick you up and fuck you wherever he can but Johnny said that would ruin the bit, he doesn't care about the fucking bit when he's the only one who hasn't fucked their medic.) so he's suddenly in your office about everything; his fingers are aching from having to teach rookies the proper way to hold a gun, he hit his head on a doorframe and needs some pain meds, dog bite, until he just gets fed up. those fuckers were handed perfect opportunities and it's clear that he isn't getting the same grace, so he'll just have to create it on his own.

obviously that includes just going to your office, locking the door, and fucking you against it. it's unceremonious and rather inopportune but his face is in the junction of your shoulders, biting into the flesh of your neck, and his hands are keeping you pinned to the door as his hips piston into yours. he sits with you for at least an hour after, cleaning the cum on your thighs, then leaves you with four dog tags and a command to wear them at all times.

and any question about who's medic you were are promptly shut down now that a  6'4 ghost, or the loudest scot on the planet, or the smell of cigars that don't come out even with bleach, or Sergeant Garrick follow you around.

[harunayuuka2060]

*Vil looked at MC with a serious expression. Trey and Jade were bound to their seats by rose vines—though in Jade’s case, he was almost entirely swallowed by them, with only his nose left exposed so he could breathe.

Trey: Hey... Isn't this a bit too much?

Jade: *muffled sounds*

MC: Do forgive my caution—I'm all too aware of what the esteemed vice dorm leaders of Heartslabyul and Octavinelle are capable of. Surely, you can’t fault me for being just a little… *smiles* vigilant.

Vil: ...

Vil: Are you implying that you're not threatened by me?

MC: *chuckles* You're free to interpret it however you wish.

Vil: Why you—

*MC set four distinct cocktails before him, each glass glistening under the dim lighting. As the mingled aromas of citrus and spirits wafted toward him, Vil's nose wrinkled in distaste, his lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval.*

MC: I'd be honored if you'd join me, Vil.

Vil: *suspicious* An offer?

MC: Think of it as a simple game. You must guess which of these cocktails is poisoned and offer it to me. If you're right, I'll let you leave this place. But if you're wrong… I'll shatter this shard—

MC: *holds up the mirror shard, nearly identical to the one Leona had* —and you'll be trapped here with me.

Vil: What…? That doesn’t make any sense. If I win and you end up drinking the poison, you’ll—

MC: Sympathy is a luxury you can't afford right now, Vil. *smiles at him softly*

Vil: ...

Leona: Jack, stop it.

Jack: *has been trying to get back in but to no avail*

Jack: I shouldn't have left!

Ruggie: Correction: You were thrown out.

Floyd: I wonder what Jade's doing. I guess he's doing a lousy job if he isn't here yet.

Riddle: ...

Cater: Are you worried about Trey-kun, Riddle?

Riddle: No, I’m sure he’s doing his best in this situation.

Ace: Yeah, Trey-senpai is going to be fine. But... Jack?

Jack: What?

Ace: What does this MC look like? Are they hot?

Jack: Huh?

Epel: Are you being serious right now?

Ace: *pouts* What? I'm just curious.

Cater: I get you, Acey-kun. This is how you cope.

Malleus, Lilia, Silver, and Sebek: ...

Sebek: My liege, with five still unaccounted for, I humbly propose we start immediately.

Lilia: Leona initiated the group arrangements by integrating members across dorms. It would be improper for us to deviate from this system now.

Sebek: Well...

Silver: And we have to ensure the others are safe before we proceed.

Sebek: ...

Malleus: Be patient, Sebek.

Sebek: Yes, Waka-sama...

MC: Have you made your choice?

Vil: ...

Trey: Is there any hint?

Jade: *muffled sound*

Vil: ...

Vil: MC.

MC: *smiles* Yes?

Vil: Should I assume all these cocktails are laced with poison?

Trey: Huh?

MC: ...

MC: *chuckles* If that's the case, why not use it to your advantage? I won’t be altering the rule I’ve set.

Vil: ...

Vil: From the very beginning, you had no intention of trapping us. If you did, you wouldn’t have proposed this senseless game. You control this place—you could’ve had us in the palm of your hand if you wanted to.

Trey and Jade: ...

Trey: *his gaze softened at MC* You planned on losing?

MC: ...

MC: Ah. Caught red-handed, it seems. *a wry smile flickers across their face as they casually select a cocktail—then drinks it without hesitation*

Trey and Vil: !!!

MC: *smiles and leans in close to Vil, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead while discreetly slipping the mirror shard into his hand*

Vil: Potato—

MC: Does this remind you of that day? *chuckles*

Vil, Trey, and Jade: ...

Leona: How is it?

Vil: I have it...

Trey: ...

Azul: Jade?

Jade: ...The details are not mine to share.

Trey: ... *sigh*

The others: ...

Idia: I'm getting scared now, what the heck...

[silens-oro]

Senior Citizen Behavior

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!Reader Domestic fluff/Established Relationship

The Pitt Playlist located here

Synopsis: For the first time in a very long time, it isn't Robby who's coming home late after his shift. Word Count: 1,421 Content Warning: Age gap; No age specified, but I typically write readers with Robby or Abbot as 30+ in my mind. Tooth-rotting fluff. A/N: lmao this was supposed to be a drabble and ended up being a one-shot because I can't help myself when presented with an old man on a silver platter, so there's that.

please comment & reblog :)

It was just before 10pm when you quietly let yourself into the apartment you shared with Robby -a whole two and a half hours later than you were supposed to leave the office, but the end of the quarter was quickly approaching and extra hours were required to be put in by your entire team. 

Gotta think of the shareholders, you thought bitterly to yourself as you shook the snow off of your head and toed your boots off at the door. Your bag and coat found their homes on the wall hooks in the entryway next to Robby’s jacket and bag, and you tiptoed down the hall to the soft glow coming from the living room.  

Robby was an absolute sight when you caught a glimpse of him on the sofa. Mindful to step around the known creaky floorboards, you rounded the sofa to see what the damage was. He texted you earlier in the day that the first couple of hours of his shift were an absolute doozy, and when he called you on his way home he yapped about a fist fight that broke out between two patients who were there because of a fight that landed them in the ED to begin with. 

"Round Two in the Emergency Department," he had said, still beside himself when the department turned into the set of Jerry Springer. 

“Sounds like an episode title of It’s Always Sunny,” you joked into your desk phone as you typed into the blurring Smartsheet on your monitor that you had been working away on for the last three hours straight. You let him know that it was going to be a late night for you and to not wait up. He needed his beauty sleep.

It was a nightmare Robby was all too happy to leave in the hands of Dr. Jack Abbot and his (loving) freakshow of a night shift -they were more than equipped to handle it and Robby couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

All Robby wanted to do by the time he stepped out of those automatic doors and into the fresh air was get home, take a hot shower, eat a good meal, and wrap himself around you like a boa constrictor -and maybe put a movie on so he could fall asleep before the opening credits finished. It wasn’t too much to ask for, and yet Robby found he had the apartment all to himself because you (in an absolute rarity) ended up as the one who had to work late this time around, so he made due with what he had. 

He took his shower and made a quick meal for the both of you before getting comfortable on the sofa with a book he started on his last day off. He got maybe three pages in, blinked once, and the next thing Robby knew, he was out. If you were there, he would’ve told you that he was just resting his eyes for a moment and he was definitely not asleep. No, he wasn’t snoring. All allegations were denied in this situation (that happened many times before), but you'd always give him a knowing smile with a sarcastic ‘sure' thrown his way. 

Senior citizen behavior, you had joked once and he nearly smothered you with the weight of his body as he draped himself on top of you until you apologized through a fit of laughter.  

Robby was sitting mostly upright on the sofa, leaning on a few throw pillows that propped his elbow up on the arm rest. He was in his comfy cardigan (the one he only wore at home after he had taken a shower) with his round readers hanging precariously on the tip of his nose and his latest book smashed flat against his chest. His feet, wearing coziest winter socks because the man was never barefoot in the house, were crossed ankle over ankle on the coffee table making his impossibly long legs appear to be even longer than they already were. 

Robby’s head was tilted back just enough to make his mouth open the tiniest bit, allowing soft snores (that he would deny til he was blue in the face) to escape while he rested -blissfully unaware of his audience, and you couldn’t stop the breathy laugh that escaped you even if you tried. 

“Oh, you are never beating the senior citizen allegations now, Robby.” You teased in a whisper as you carefully removed the readers that were dangerously close to falling off the tip of his nose. You folded the arms carefully and set them on the side table next to the base of the lone lamp that illuminated the room, before gently prying the book from his (more than likely cramped) hand. The book itself was flat on his chest, pages splayed open on the last page he read -or attempted to, anyway. Not seeing a bookmark anywhere, you dog-eared the page and set it next to his glasses with care. 

Robby grumbled incoherently when your palm came to rest on his bearded cheek. The dark circles that were starting to reappear under his eyes made your lips tilt down for a fraction of a second, knowing he was exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally as well. Between what happened with Pittfest just four months ago, and Frank’s situation that Robby blamed himself for (not for Frank using, but for Robby not seeing it until a first day intern pointed it out to him), and the goddamn Patient Satisfaction Scores he was constantly drilled about like the ED was a Primanti Bros. franchise -on top of whatever other bullshit Gloria threw at him, he needed to take some time to himself so he could disconnect -if only for a few days. The problem was that Robby wasn’t the type to disconnect. He felt an obligation because if not him, then who?

It hurt your heart to think of the weight Robby carried day in and day out, like he was Atlas carrying the sky on his shoulders, not because he needed to be punished, but because he needed to be useful and this was the only way he knew how to be. Robby was a great man with an enormous heart who constantly gave himself away at the expense of never getting those pieces back. And while you tried to replace what you could, for every piece you returned, two more were taken away in its place. The toll it took on him was getting more and more noticeable by the day, but still he trudged on. It’s who Robby was, and would always be. 

Waking him up when you knew he needed the rest was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew if you left him on that couch he was liable to wake up with something out of alignment and that was the absolute last thing he needed. 

You leaned down and kissed his forehead tenderly, then down to his nose, and finally landed on his ever so slightly parted lips (that he was 100% not snoring through). Robby’s eyes started to flutter and a sleepy grin tilted his lips up when he cracked them open and saw you standing over him. 

“Hi, sleepyhead.” You whispered, “I told you that you didn’t have to wait up for me. Your back is going to be screamin' at you.”

“Clearly I didn’t wait up,” He joked, groaning at how stiff he felt from sleeping in the position he was in. He yawned as he stretched his arms up, pulling his t-shirt up to reveal just the slightest sliver of his happy trail low on his stomach, and gently grabbed your hand to pull you down to the sofa so you could snuggle into his side.

Robby drowsily kissed the side of your head as you wrapped your arms around his middle, letting one of your hands slip underneath his soft cotton t-shirt to rub at his ribs affectionately. It didn’t take you very long into your relationship with Robby to figure out that skin to skin contact, specifically in a non-sexual setting, was something he craved. It was comforting and intimate in a way that grounded him and so it became a ritual whenever the two of you had brief moments together that you were more than happy to oblige in. It was never explicitly stated between you, he never asked for it, but you just knew and he loved you for it. “There’s a plate in the microwave for you. Figured you’d be starving when you got home.” His words were muffled because he still hadn't moved. You gently tilted your head up to look at him.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He chuckled, rolling his eyes. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes were pronounced and you couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was -especially when he was smiling. “Because I do. You’re the best.” You smiled up at him, giving him a loving peck. Robby let the kids linger, cupping your jaw to keep you close to him. 

“I try.” He breathed against you, dodging the attention by pressing his forehead to yours. He found comfort in the lingering smell of your shampoo and the warmth that radiated off of you. 

“You do more than try, Robby, and I will always appreciate that.” Again, you kissed him tenderly, your hand coming up to gently scratch at his beard. He gave you the stink eye when you laughed at the tiny groan he let out when you did it.

"I know you do, even if you are a pain in my ass. I love you all the more for it."

please comment & reblog :)

[dark-wackademia]

uh, "i just need to focus on myself right now, thanks for understanding", and then do that regardless of how they react because you deserve to take care of yourself.

also, controversial opinion: you really don't need to explain yourself to anyone, ESPECIALLY when you're in a place like this. babes, your first priority is to let go of that feeling of worrying how others will take you living your best life/feeling obligation to anyone but yourself in order to start living authentically to you and doing whatever you need to for yourself.

secondly: you can do that for maintaining a healthy state so that you don't reach this place too, like preventative medicine... people forget it's worth much more than the methods we enact once at a later stage with something that could have been perhaps avoided all together, if not lessened had we caught it earlier. something i wish more people really understood is that you don't need to be AT deaths door or burnout/this level of not doing well to step back and get back to basics for yourself. imho, you can stay there as long as you need since we all interact with the world differently, and so, we all have varying needs, and those needs shift. sometimes, for a long while, you'll need to stick to being minimal in one area of life to create a sense of peace and balance for yourself in areas that matter more, at that time, and then reverse areas at another point in life. it's alright to just need to do what you need to in order to feel the best you can in life. it's kind of your only real job for yourself because it is YOUR life, after all. and no, that's NOT being selfish, because i hate when people i know take this time that their bodies, minds, and souls are crying out for them to only to frame it in "it's okay to be selfish". taking care of yourself (even if your support needs at the moment, or even in general, long-term, are high) does NOT equate to being selfish AT ALL.

repeat instead the mantras like "i can't pour from an empty cup" and keep in mind that you DONT want to wait until your cups empty. in other words, you don't need to keep pouring just because you have something in your cup. it's okay to keep yourself for yourself. if you have the time and energy, it doesn't mean you need to give it, even if you have been doing maintenance for a while. let go of that guilt, shame, and obligation you feel for simply existing and living. you deserve to enjoy yourself too. you deserve to enjoy your own time and energy before giving it away (even if you want to, which i get is a hard middle ground to strike but in time you'll find it). it's much more enjoyable when you do it this way. try to think about it in the way of water, if you went around literally pouring your water into everyone's cup just because you have even a drop, you'd end up killing yourself because you're drinking nothing. even a little, even half a cup is still not enough. framing it in that way has helped me shed the internalized ablism I had for most of my life, being someone that needs to support myself by a lot of alone time, especially, made me vulnerable to people who socialize more shaping my own perception as negative towards my natural inclination. now that i've let go of this, and keep doing so, i find i actually want to socialize more and find it more energizing whenever i do. i even make it a priority now, instead of finding it to be a chore, as i once had. also, i rec socializing only in areas of interest when you're craving some but are low on energy and vibes to give.

hope this helps someone. <3

also, i think people will understand, and even if they don't, in time, you'll meet someone who does. give yourself that space and time you need so you don't burn yourself out on ones who don't, so you're not burnt out for the ones who come along and get you.

[agentmulderrp]

Let's just picture the begining of their relationship (post consummation) when they were but were not a thing yet, so, yes implicitly they started spending -even- more of their 'free' personal time together. Slowly but surely they were getting into a very nice though not conventional relationship with each other and sometimes it just seemed pretty conventional if not for the fact that neither of them had proposed or even asked to each other what were they actually doing because it was a thing but not a thing at the time. I can't help but to think of Scully's reaction while realization downed on her as she did the dishes and Mulder just cleaned the table after a meal and made his way to sit comfortably on her couch, on a weekend, to watch the game at her place, bare feet over her coffee table, jeans hanging low on his hips while he held the remote -hers- in his very skillful hands, and he was doing that, at her place, which meant he wasn't ditching her for the weekend like he used to do, to chase the next great big mystery, to chase after whatever fake report of whatever cryptid, UFO, or whatever that might've caught his attention in whatever town lost in time and space, or the mountains and desolated lakes he fancied so much.

No. He wasn't out there anymore, he hadn't been in a while and this, she found.. disturbing, because this meant something she wasn't ready to accept to herself yet, not yet. Sure, secretly she might've even longed for it, very secretly, so secretly she might've convinced herself she didn't really want it. But she asked him if he ever thought of stopping the car, getting off, settle down. And since nothing Mulder did was conventional, maybe this was it. Him, coming to a slow stop, still very excited about the job but much more excited to explore life with her, not always necessarily under the covers but they had pretty much done the whole other thing there was to be done with their lives except for that one they were doing now, and boy were they really doing it and doing it well indeed.

Idk I just think of her face coming out of the kitchen and seeing him there, just so naturally comfortable on her couch watching basketball, his eyes meeting hers because she was staring and she licking her lips a little nervously as she put her hands on her hips before voicing her thoughts filled with doubt like "Mulder what are you doing here?", she meant why aren't you anywhere else like you used to not so long ago? And I can see him just shrugging with a small smug smile, all relaxed there, motioning for her to come over with a slight gesture of his hand, just a random weekend after having pizza, getting ready for the game to start, he wasn't going anywhere anymore, he was right where he needed to be. He had chosen her. He hadn't found the words to tell her yet, but he was there.

[technically-human]

He did eventually sign it

[mumblingsage]

i wonder how much this is a personality or intended audience thing, because I'm not sure I've ever taken "Don't use epithets" as a command on par with "Thou shalt not kill." The person recommending I don't use epithets has no authority over me. They can't take out a warrant for my arrest. They can stop reading if I write something that annoys them. So can every reader, whatever the reason for their annoyance. So it's not bad to know the kinds of things that often annoy or trip up readers (even readers who just read to enjoy themselves, without thinking much about the words used, can get tripped up by confusing phrasing, jarring word choice, or repetition, even if they wouldn't think to phrase it in writing-advice language like "use of epithets").

No piece of writing advice can cover every sentence you will ever pen in your life. For that matter, no piece of driving advice will apply everywhere, and driving well is a matter of life and death! "Don't stop at a green light" except when a fire truck is going through the intersection with sirens blaring. "Be judicious when you stop at a green light" is technically more accurate but not really more helpful because you don't want people to overthink the relationship of green lights and the brakes of their cars.

It's not that OP's point about deliberate choices is bad--it's very good--it's that I've understood "Only take this advice when it applies" as the subtext of most writing advice. Or the text. George Orwell's sixth of six rules for writers is "Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous." (After phrasing the first 5 rules as "always" and "never" statements!) Anyone believing "this rule is universal, never ever break it" has themselves not read or written enough to encounter the exception.

I guess I will disagree a little, to the extent that I think, "Be deliberate about XYZ" is 201 or 301 level advice. To follow it, you need to know enough to fuel your deliberations! For 101 I'd just say "Here are some guidelines to know (at times you'll want to break them but try following them first)." I speak from some experience. I once shared this very good article about deliberate use of filter words (vs outright banning filter words) with a writer and got the feedback that the article was too confusing, the writer just wanted to know what they should or shouldn't do. At that point it's maybe easier to give them the "Do and do not's," remind them it's not life or death, and let them try following those rules until they hit a natural breaking point and figure out on their own, "Oh yeah, the rule usually applies but it doesn't work here. Let's do something else."

Or maybe, as we're dissecting phrasing: "Don't use epithets" actually means "The consequences of using epithets are undesirable to most modern audiences." But the latter sentence is going to confuse or intimidate a chunk of writing students, while the first gives them actionable advice to try out in three words.

My ideal writing advice leans more toward capability, of allowing writers to do things, so phrasing like "It's okay to use your character's name or pronoun a lot. It's clear for the reader to follow and this kind of repetition is rarely distracting or annoying" might be a healthy alternative to "No epithets." And "Passive voice is useful when you want to foreground the subject of an action and obscure the person who did the action" (since if that's not what you want to do, you'll chose to use active rather than passive voice, just as I don't squeeze a lemon into a recipe where I don't want lemony flavor).

There's also the school of hard knocks way, which is where your beta reader asks you "Which one is the blond second child of a mechanic again?" over and over until you realize the epithets are more distracting than they're worth.

I've already said that my number one piece of writing advice is to read.

But my number two piece of advice is this: be deliberate.

Honestly this would fix so many pieces of bad writing advice. Don't forbid people from doing something, tell them to be conscious and deliberate about it. This could help stop people from falling into common mistakes without limiting their creativity. Black and white imperatives may stop a few annoying beginner habits, but ultimately they will restrict artistic expression.

Instead of "don't use epithets": "Know the effect epithets have and be deliberate about using them." Because yes, beginners often misuse them, but they can be useful when a character's name isn't known or when you want to reduce them to a particular trait they have.

Instead of "don't use 'said'" or "just use 'said'": "Be deliberate about your use of dialogue tags." Because sometimes you'll want "said" which fades into the background nicely, but sometimes you will need a more descriptive alternative to convey what a character is doing.

Instead of "don't use passive voice": "Be deliberate about when you use passive voice." Because using it when it's not needed can detract from your writing, but sometimes it can be useful to change the emphasis of a sentence or to portray a particular state of mind.

Instead of blindly following or ignorantly neglecting the rules of writing, familiarize yourself with them and their consequences so you can choose when and if breaking them would serve what you're trying to get across.

Your writing is yours. Take control of it.

It probably sounds like I'm preaching to the choir here because most of my mutuals are already great writers. But I'm hoping this will make it to the right people.

[sunderwight]

What if the peak lords concluded that the most likely answer to the mystery of Shen Qingqiu's behavior is not that he's possessed now (because they checked and all the tests came out negative), but that he must have actually been possessed before?

No one thought to check him before, after all. They just figured he was an asshole. But then he suffers a qi deviation, almost dies, but comes back nicer. Only slightly lacking in context for his own past behavior and lifestyle, too.

It fits remarkably well, doesn't it? All this time the real Shen Qingqiu must have been trying to free himself from a demonic spirit that took possession of him in his youth! It was the demon who was the asshole, dragging his poor host to brothels, alienating his sect siblings so that they wouldn't investigate him too closely, abusing his disciples and probably weakening the sect from within as part of some nefarious plot!

But then the real Shen Qingqiu finally managed to beat back the demon himself, even being gracious enough not to point out what happened to his martial siblings and so save the sect's face. What a guy.