#it's discouraging to get so many rejections

[blackrosesandwhump]

I thought I was a good writer.

But my short stories and poems keep getting rejected.

Feeling kind of discouraged.

[every-captain]

Yaaaay I get to work in another tarot deck!!!

[xiranjayzhao]

Addressing a recent accusation I got hit with that was co-signed by a decently well-known author! Not sure if their path to success was way smoother than mine or something, but I've never spoken any lies when it comes to my personal experiences in publishing, and the paths of the majority of authors I know have not been smooth either. I think most people will find both job-hunting and querying agents to be absolutely soul-crushing and not easy at all. It personally took me 7 years to find my first agent, and the book she signed didn't even sell.

I'm sorry if anyone feels discouraged by hearing what I say, but I think it's better to go in grounded in the reality that a business will act like a business than to be disappointed and crushed and left wondering if *you're* just not good enough, which is often not the case. I have so many friends whose amazing, very readable books get rejected left and right not for reasons to do with quality, but marketing. "We don't know how to market this." "We don't know whether to shelf this in YA or Adult." "We already have something too similar." All of these kinds of rejections are not about the writing, yet they are SO common, and they're proof that it's not a meritocracy. Therefore, you really shouldn't tie your self-worth into how many rejections or offers you get. (Like I did at one point. It took me to a dark, DARK place and it's a miracle that I'm still here.)

I do struggle to actively encourage aspiring writers nowadays, but that's because I struggle to convince even myself to keep going. I'm still not technically a full-time author, and I'm glad to have other options, so I'm not left scrambling to push out book after book no matter the quality or the detriment to my health to keep relevant. I'm someone who had an overly rosy view of publishing while trying to break in, and there are many decisions I would not make again if I were to start over. I have no intention of stopping anyone from chasing their dreams (and seriously COULDN'T), but people deserve to know what they're getting into. It's always worth having a backup plan, because sometimes even IF you achieve your dreams, you'll find that it's not what you imagined.

[hotchnerwrites]

Hi hi hi my babyy🤍🤍

First I want to apologize for appearing until now, life has become severely difficult :( How have you been? How is everything going?🫂

So now I'm someone's controversial young girlfriend🙇🏻‍♀️(it's not as many years difference as it sounds) and that gave me an idea with my favorite man🫠

What if Hotch and the reader have this mutual desire but Hotch doesn't approach the reader because her's younger and the reader doesn't approach him because her's afraid of rejection But one night maybe they share a kiss or a light touch that makes Hotch close himself off more and discourages the reader:( and finally when they go on a case the one from the head office who is Hotch's age flirts with the reader and she reciprocates first because she is single and second because she really loves that her couples are older 😮‍💨 and Aaron gets really jealous because he 'thought he was the only one' and that tension finally falls apart when he confronts her and she simply tells him that the head of the department is some kind of distraction about her crush on Hotch 🫠

The truth is that in the end I didn't know how to develop the idea, I'm sure you can do it better, I hope it was understood. 😭🙏🏻

As always take it only if you feel comfortable (and understand it) I send you all my love, I'm excited to be here again I'm not going to lie about it!!🥹💗💗

xoxoxo

-👩🏻‍🦰

Unspoken

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: SFW, jealous!hotch, mutual pining, angst, sort of happy ending, making out, no use of (y/n),

A/N: HIIII LOVELY, missed seeing you in my requests. things have been crazy on my end ngl 😭 moved cities, broke my teeth, med exams etc. god is testing me rn smhhhh. and congratulations on your new relationship!!!! so happy for you <3 (totally not jealous 😔/s) anyways, kind of went crazy on this request, LOOOOVED the idea so much. i wanted this man suffering in the fic lmaooo. anyways, here you go!!! hope you like it, and it's what you wanted!!! sending u all my love 💚

PS. Let me know if the formatting is off. It's wonky on my laptop but not my phone for whatever reasons.

My requests are open. Send me stuff! :)

There had always been something there.

Unacknowledged, simmering beneath longing glances and fleeting touches. An almost magnetic pull between you and Aaron— felt by both, acted on by neither. It existed in the quiet spaces between conversations, the way he positioned himself beside you during briefings, in the way his hand would almost touch the small of your back before withdrawing at the last second.

But that something was fated to remain unspoken. Unmentioned.

And that had been Aaron’s choice, not yours.

You never pushed him. Not when you caught his gaze lingering, not when he brought you coffee and no one else, not when he gave you his coat on cold nights without a word, not even when— after a particularly hard case— you had found yourself in the dimly lit hallway of a motel, wrapped up in his arms, listening to his uneven heartbeat like he was battling something within himself. 

For a second, you had let yourself hope. This had to be it. His breaking point.

But then he had pulled away. 

And the next day? He shut you out completely.  He didn’t meet your eyes in the briefing. He stopped those wordless gestures you had learned to find comfort in. His usual attentiveness toward you, the way he always ensured you were comfortable… was gone. He was probably more attentive towards Reid.

So, it became obvious. You adapted like you always did. You drew the line in the sand and stuck to your side. The conversations became strictly professional, words clipped but polite. You stopped bringing him a cup of coffee if he lingered in the bullpen late at night. On long flights home, he stopped offering you the seat next to him.

Even the team noticed.

Rossi had given Hotch a Look more than once, his stare heavy with disappointment. JJ asked if you were okay, and even Morgan had thrown out a casual, “What’s going on with you two?”

You vehemently denied everything. Everything was fine. Everything was normal.

What else could you have said? That you wanted Aaron? That you had spent months convincing yourself he had wanted you, too? That, in the end, he had rejected it— no, he had denied you— not even with words, but with distance?

You knew you deserved better. You deserved someone who would be proud to love you. Someone who wasn’t scared of the possibility of a relationship.

So, you moved on.

———

Then came Baltimore. 

Michael Keating was confident, charismatic, and older. He was the Chief of the Baltimore Division, respected and soft-spoken. He carried himself with ease, joked about the growing silver streak in his hair, and greeted everyone by name. He made people laugh and asked about their day.

And he noticed you. 

It started small. A compliment on your profiling. Deferring to you when asked about the unsub. 

You hadn’t meant to encourage it. But then again— why refuse yourself? You had spent too long pining for something that wasn’t meant to happen. You were single, and you wanted a change. And Michael was perfect.

Keating was different. He was direct in a way Hotch never was. He didn’t hesitate to place a hand on your lower back as he showed you around the precinct. He leaned in when he spoke to you, close enough that you could smell his cologne. He smelled like the ocean— sea salt and sandalwood.

But there was something about Michael that reminded you of Aaron. The little things. The way his voice softened when he said your name. The way he listened— giving you his rapt attention, something Hotch always did, but only ever with you.

Nevertheless, Keating wasn’t Hotch. And you weren’t going to let yourself draw baseless comparisons. So you let him flirt with you. It felt good to be seen. When he brought you your morning coffee, you accepted gratefully, smiling up at him. When he leaned in and said something low and teasing, you laughed.

That was when you felt it.

A prickle at the back of your neck. Someone watching.

You didn’t deign to turn, but you knew. 

Aaron.

For a second you felt suffocated. But the feeling was gone as swiftly as it had come. When you finally joined your team, Hotch was talking with García, and he didn’t even spare you a glance.

For the rest of the day, you pretended that it hadn’t affected you as much as it did. You maintained your professional façade, breaking only once when Michael slid you a sticky note with a silly doodle on it. Everything went well. Or so you thought.

Hotch brushed past you with nothing more than a curt “Excuse me” as he entered the meeting room. His voice held a subtle undercurrent of knowing, but you brushed it off. It just wasn’t your problem any longer.

But when Keating pulled out your chair for you, you felt it again— the prickling.

Hotch walked out of the room.

Emily noticed. 

“Whatever it is,” she muttered as you watched Hotch’s back disappear down the hallway, “you two need to sort it out before it affects the case.”

You know she’s right. But you can’t bring yourself to answer. What was there to say?

Aaron had no right to feel this way. He had his chance. If he wanted you, he should have said so. But he didn’t, instead, he turned tail and ran.

And you weren’t going to sit around waiting for him to come to.

————

The bar had emptied, the rest of the team long since in their rooms. You had stayed a bit longer, letting the bite of your drink settle into your bones. You needed it after the week you’d had. Michael had apologised profusely when you’d invited him; he had to meet with the prosecutor. After the initial sting of disappointment, you were glad that he wasn’t here. You needed some space from it all. You let your mind disconnect from the world, letting the faint hum of the music take over.

Which is why you weren’t prepared when Aaron cornered you. 

“Keating?” His tone was level as if asking you about the weather. But the way his hands were clenched tight told you a different story. “That’s who you want?”

Your stomach twisted, almost painfully.

Not this. Not this conversation, not after months of silent torture, months of being ignored, months of being treated like nothing.

“What does it matter to you?” You retorted, rolling your eyes. Fatigue seeped into your voice that had nothing to do with the case. “You don’t get to ask me that, Aaron.”

Something flickered in his eyes when you said his name. Maybe it reminded him of how you used to say it with warmth.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. “Didn’t think he was your type.”

A short, humourless laugh escaped you. “My type?” You shook your head vigorously. “I didn’t realise I needed your opinion on that. You’ve barely acknowledged my existence this month.”

Hotch’s shoulders tensed. “That’s not—”

“Not what? Not fair?” Your eyes burned, “You pushed me away. You didn’t even ask how I felt. You chose for both of us and now you’re— what? Upset I’ve moved on?”

“That’s not what this is.”

“Enlighten me, then,” you snap, anger hiding the fact that you were begging for an answer, one you knew he’d never give.

Nothing. As expected. The silence between you stretched on. You didn’t know what you had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. All of a sudden, the atmosphere of the bar became a little too much. The stench of stale beer overpowered your nose and the tinny audio from the jukebox irked you. You slid off the barstool and threw a couple of crumpled bills on the counter.

Then, barely above a whisper, you heard him rasp, “I thought I was the only one.”

A punch to your chest might have hurt less. 

Your breath stuttered, heart aching at the confession that settled in the space between you. He was falling apart, and you could see it—the way his brows drew together, the way his throat bobbed as he tried to force out something he wasn’t ready to say.

And for the first time, you saw the truth for what it was.

Aaron Hotchner was a man who carried too much. Who loved too hard and too quietly. Who convinced himself that his feelings were a burden he couldn’t afford, even when he was faced with the enormity of it.

But he wanted.

God, he wanted.

And it terrified him.

A bitter laugh escaped you. How could he? No, how dare he expect you to hold on to the idea that you were his when he kept you at a distance further than the rest of the team? That no one else could want you the way he did?

“You could have been, Aaron,” you responded, the weight of the world suddenly crushing you. “But you were the one who made sure you weren’t.”

Something in him shattered. You could tell. The way he flexed his hand, the way his posture stiffened like he was dealing with a blow he wasn’t ready to receive.

“Why are you doing this, to me?” Hotch’s voice was hoarse, thick with emotion— anger, regret, longing and want all tangled together.

“I’m doing this to you?” Your voice wavered, and you hated yourself for it, “Hotch, do you even hear yourself right now?”

He stepped closer, crowding your space, eyes dark with something desperate. “I tried—” He dragged a shaky hand through his hair, “ I tried to stay away. I thought it was the right thing.”

“Right thing for who? It sure as hell wasn’t right for me,” you jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest, ignoring the slight tremble, “You shut me out. You acted like nothing was there, like I had imagined everything.” Your voice cracked, “And now I get to deal with you being jealous because Michael actually sees me? Because he’s not afraid to show me wants me?”

A muscle in Aaron’s jaw fluttered as he repeated, “I told you, it’s not about that.”

“Oh, wasn’t it?” you cried, anger building, “You wanted me to wait for you? To exile myself in the dark and hope that maybe one day you’d stop being afraid of us? That’s not fair, Aaron. I can’t do that to myself. I deserve better.”

“I know.” His voice cracked on the words, and for the first time, you saw the raw emotion on his face— all of it. The weight of it, the struggle in his eyes, the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if he had the right.

The anger ebbs out of you, replaced with something numb.

“Then why? Why didn’t you—”

Aaron moved then. He reached for you before he could stop himself, finger ghosting over your wrist before settling there, gripping gently. The heat of his fingers burned, like something he had been starving for but denied himself for too long.

“Because… I wanted you. Too much,” he admitted, voice grating like it pained him. His grip tightened on your wrist, thumb tracing the delicate skin. “I was afraid that if I let myself have this— you— I wouldn’t know how to stop.”

It was cruel, really. How he could unravel you with his words, make you forget about the months of pain and anger and hurt you’d endured. Even the way he looked at you like you were someone he couldn’t bear to lose.

“Aaron—”

Whatever you were about to say was swallowed up by his lips on yours. 

It wasn’t anything like the countless times you’d imagined it. You had always figured he’d be gentle, taking his time.

But this wasn’t soft, nor was it careful. This was desperate.

Like he was a man at his breaking point, like someone who had wasted time denying everything, only to give in all at once. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing across your cheeks as he tilted your head, deepening the kiss. He was pressed flush against you, sandwiching you between the barstool and his body like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers like sand. In the back of your mind, you faintly registered the whir of the jukebox as it changed the track.

You gasped against Aaron, and that tiny sound undid him. He groaned softly, tilting his head to chase you, to taste more, to lose himself in a way he had always wanted but never permitted.

You breathed in his scent, bourbon and coffee, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. You were anchoring yourself because this was everything you had been waiting for. 

The kiss lingered, months of tension evaporating between you, the space that had existed suddenly gone, replaced by something breathless and real. You pushed back against him, ready to get your heart’s desire. Aaron didn’t stop; he was kissing you as if it was the last thing he would ever do. He tasted heavenly, much better than you’d ever imagined. Every thought eddied out of your mind as you let the feeling of his lips against yours wash over you. Even before the moment was over, you knew that this memory would be branded into your soul. 

When Aaron finally pulled away, he didn’t go too far. You sucked in a ragged breath and squeezed your eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours. His breathing was uneven too, and you could feel the warmth of it against your lips. Then, slowly, his hands dropped from your face. He took a step back— reluctantly— just enough to reach up and loosen his tie. 

His fingers scrabbled at the knot for a moment before he wrenched it down forcefully. He then ran his hands through his hair again, mussing it in a way you’d never seen before, and let out a breathless laugh. For a split second, memories of the night when he had held you close flashed before your eyes. He had loosened his tie then, too, before enveloping you in his embrace. 

“I don’t want to be the one who let you get away,” Aaron whispered, his voice bringing you back to the present. 

The pain in your chest throbbed. At how broken and hopeful he sounded, all at once.

“Aaron,” you murmured, letting his name rest on your tongue for a moment too long.

“I—” he stopped, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe himself. This wasn’t where he had thought the night would go. You watched Aaron carefully, his chest still rising and falling too quickly. You reached for his hand, squeezing it once. 

“Aaron,” you uttered his name again, tone firmer, hoping to bring him back to you.

He looked at you then, chocolate brown eyes hardening with resolve. He started, “This… us…”

You cut him off, then. 

“Aaron,” you repeat, brushing your fingers over his jaw, “You need to choose. Me, us. Everything. You have to choose to stay.”

He glanced off to the side somewhere. Then, a slow exhale. A quiet moment of realisation.

He met your gaze again, almost bashfully this time, “If you’ll still have me.”

You laughed then, disbelieving because, of course, Aaron would say that, as if your heart hadn’t been his since the first time you saw him.

Neither of you spoke then. The past, the hurt, the hesitation— but also the possibility— swam through the charged atmosphere.

The choice.

“Okay,” you said simply.

When Aaron pulled you into his chest, you let him.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[lazywriters-blog]

Aventurine with an innocent darling who's very vulnerable to his schemes and doesn't understand his motives for gifting her a ring, necklaces, expensive perfumes, and dresses that match his preference, finds it hard to believe that he's doing all this for her without a reason.

Doesn't say anything whenever he puts his hand around her waist and drags her along with him anywhere and everywhere he goes, when he leans close she doesn't move back, in a way Aventurine would find her daring and bold, which he would like. A lot.

Seeing as she never declines or rejects him, his advances, his gifts, his messages, their intimacy, and his touch, he considers her his best friend.

Which in time would soften his heart, they would play games that were to her liking (because he would always have her lose to his bets and wagers) but if you look at it from a stranger's point of view, she's playing a dangerous game and she's falling right into his trap, wearing his gifts, following him around, it wouldn't end well.

So of course, someone would eventually warn her and tell her to stay as far away as possible from the IPC executive, which to Aventurine's dismay, works. She's playing distance with him and doesn't laugh or smile as much as she would have before everything she was told messed up her mind, runs home after he keeps insisting that she stay the night and they could have a sleepover, however, they keep drifting apart every time he gets too overbearing.

Everything she does hurts his feelings and drags him further down.

Losing someone who didn't have ulterior motives, who didn't want him to be their friend for his money, influence, his looks, his luck, makes him all the more clingy and desperate.

He wants her back, so the first thing he does is make sure everyone keeps their mouths shut and never thinks about influencing his best friend. Which works, at least for a while.

He's attached to her, he can't consider losing her after everything they've been through, so even if she doesn't realize it, the damage has been done, and she can never look at Aventurine the same. Surely, he will learn about it soon enough.

He could try manipulating her, but what's the use? They've lost their genuine friendship, and it drives him crazy, makes him bitter, and makes him want to do things to whoever dragged his darling away.

He might resort to desperate measures.

So now, he's doing everything he used to do but ten times worse, giving her endless rows of gifts, and spending an unimaginable amount of money on her in hopes they can rekindle their friendship.

But something is still holding her back.

"You should stay the night," he said in his usual light tone, taking a glance to gauge her response. She smiled nervously, and he knew she would decline.

"No, I gotta get home but next time surely," promising him her next time had gotten old, even though she had only stated it twice. He looked away for a moment, trying his best not to squeeze her shoulder.

"You know, you've promised me that twice already and it still hasn't come true."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just... I don't want to bother you." she looked down.

"I wonder if it is because of those people. You can easily be manipulated, I've already told you that so many times, so why can't you try to form your own opinion?" he didn't say it in a belittling manner, nor was his tone heavy in malice but anyone could tell something was wrong.

Aventurine has never been passive-aggressive, at least not with her.

"That's... Kinda mean." she tried to pull his arm, trying to shrug off his touch but that didn't stop nor discourage him because he just laughed and pulled her back to him.

"I was just kidding! Surely you would have known that by now sweetheart." he also never called her 'sweetheart'.

She looked at him, his wide grin and beautiful eyes peering down at her had always consoled her but now it was telling her to run away.

But with how tight he was holding onto her, she feared it would be impossible to get away now.

[kingdom-carer]

Unique agere writing prompts:

A bunch of young or inexperienced characters (the younger/less experienced the funnier) are hanging out together when suddenly one of them regresses. None of the others know what to do - “I don’t know how to take care of a baby!!! Do YOU know how to take care of a baby!?”

A character regresses alone … except for their pet. They pick up on the fact that their person is suddenly acting like a child, and takes care of them the best way a pet knows how. (Bonus points if the pet’s reasoning abilities are enhanced somehow, whether through creative storytelling or in-world magical properties.)

A character regresses and loses all of their speech. No cute babbles or lisping here - just complete silence. CG has to figure out what their baby wants through gestures alone, and that can be challenging depending on how young their kiddo is.

A character teen regresses around their superior or boss, becoming mouthy or being silly in a distracting manner. Boss/coworker quickly discourages that behavior, and teen is highly embarrassed and has to work through a lot of unhappy emotions regarding rebellion or rejection. The boss/coworker could be either caring or mean for this one.

Kiddo’s heart stops when they see someone who looks like Santa Claus on their day out. Without thinking, they approach him. The man is surprised to see them, but meets them with warmth and promises to write their Christmas wish down for the elves. Was it really Santa? Who knows?

Middle shyly admits that they are interested in something they got scolded for when they were young - and CG decided to join them in their quest to live out the dream, whether that’s funky hair, a new fandom, or a tricky hobby. Kiddo ends up rocking it, of course.

Digging up old writing or artwork pitches a middle into their headspace - and it is NOT a good one. CG isn’t sure why middle is being so bratty until they suddenly burst into tears, saying they hate themselves and they wish they could just disappear. CG offers to go through the sketchbook and praises each page lovingly as they do, but the drawings turn darker and darker …

CG has a hard day and wants to love on their kiddo to relax, but kiddo isn’t feeling particularly small and subtly tries to redirect the attempts at affection. CG gets more and more frustrated until they snap, shouting, throwing things, slamming doors and cabinets. So many repressed emotions bubbling up … CG immediately regrets what they’ve done and hides away in shame. Baby does their best to cheer CG up again, even if CG’s outburst scared them.

Kiddo is perfectly big when going about their day, but a sweet lady at the gas station starts calling them all sorts of pet names when she sees they’re upset and offers to pay for their snacks. Kiddo immediately tries to hold it together, but tears are still falling from their eyes.

CG or kiddo revisits their childhood home and reflects on their upbringing. Good? Bad? Ugly? You decide.

Middle revisits a school and realizes how … young they all are. Mentally, they’ve been stuck there for so long … but my, how far they’ve come.

Kiddo has to babysit a younger kiddo when there’s no one else around to care for them. Chaos ensues.

For some reason (possibly due to trauma or magic?), big cannot remember being little, even though the aftermath exists. They begin leaving notes to themselves when big, and get responses back when small. Slowly, they start to heal their hurt brains and bridge the gap between headspaces.

Big actually goes back in time to meet their little self. Who have they become in the eyes of this tiny person?

Kiddo is afraid of making messes and getting in trouble, so CG responds with sensory bins, mud puddles, shaving cream kiddie pools, and other activities where getting messy is the name of the game. There are lots of big feelings, but nothing a little food fight can’t fix.

CG misses their kiddo so much it hurts. They snuggle a pillow and tend to their stuffies, but it isn’t the same. They call their kiddo just to see how they’re doing, and kiddo can tell it’s hard for them to be apart; so they decide to get their CG a pet.

A kiddo with powers has to relearn to use them when small, since channeling energy takes focus … and so does repressing a magical outburst when upset.

A CG starts falling in love with someone … and kiddo notices, taking it upon themself to help them get together by being “sneakily” romantic. Naturally it is not quite as subtle as they intended.

You’ve heard of “caught being little,” now get ready for “caught being a CG.” Why IS this box full of band-aids and stuffed animals and grab-and-go play packs and electrolytes in your closet?

[kowbelll]

Heyy, I saw you were looking for requests and I was wondering if you would be willing to write Stiles Stilinksi asking reader on a date? What is your interpretation of his approach? What would the pining stage look like? Would he trip over his words? Is he still his usual cocky self? Would he be straightforward? Hopefully this gave you some inspiration and don’t feel pressured to write this if you don’t feel like it <3

I love this so much and it actually inspired me to write a New Year themed imagine, so thank you! Sorry it took so long to respond, but the holidays are a hectic time for everyone. I hope you like it and Happy New Year! 💜

A Date Before Midnight 🎉

Word count: 2,001

Stiles woke up on New Year’s Eve with a heavy weight on his shoulders. Everyone around him, all of his friends, even his father – they were all ecstatic about the fresh start and the chance to improve themselves again, as if all of those unrealistic goals weren’t going to disintegrate within the first few weeks, just like every other year. It was a waste of hope. But that’s not why Stiles was feeling so discouraged with himself.

That day was his last chance to achieve the goal he made 364 days ago: ask her out. One of his closest friends, favorite people, and biggest inspirations was the girl he met when he was a wee tot and had the privilege of growing up with. She always knew how to make him smile and she always let him go on lengthy rants, no matter how ridiculous they were. She listened and talked back, and made him feel normal and safe. This girl was everything he needed when he was lacking something. Somehow, she figured it out and did her best, resulting in a very happy and fulfilled Stiles.

He didn’t realize how truly drawn to her he was until last December when he saw the purity and kindness in her eyes as she handed him the thoughtful, personal Christmas present she made just for him. Plus, watching her go through and finish puberty was an excellent, yet sometimes painful, bonus (wink wink).

Every single day began with determination and ended with despair and frustration. He was so good at talking, it was one of his many talents, and he used it to give himself the advantage in all settings. So, he couldn’t understand why the words “Will you go out with me?” refused to make an appearance while he conversed with her. They constantly raced through his head, but shoving them out of his mouth was like forcing a mule to bake cookies.

Maybe it was fear, or doubt, possibly a dash of incredulity. Or maybe all of the above. Stiles had no clue because his desire to just say the damn words was eating him alive. His tongue was burning, but instead of putting out the flames, he subconsciously diverted his attention by bringing up some other lame conversation topic. He wasn’t sure if he had control of his own brain at that point due to how incredibly long this was taking him.

He decided to do it at the pack’s celebration at Scott’s house. He would pull her aside at some point and casually let it slip out, and it would all be fine. Right? The party was starting at nine, giving him two hours and fifty-nine minutes to figure it out. That’s plenty of time. Right? Right...?

Stiles was frantic and pacing around his room. He didn’t intend to put it off this long, he honestly and wholeheartedly wanted to achieve his goal before the year ended, but the stakes were getting higher and more intimidating. Plus, getting rejected would be a horrible way to start a new year. He had enough bad luck, he couldn’t handle any more.

“Fuck...” he groaned under his breath, running his hands through his hair and down his face.

“Do I need to pull out the swear jar from when you were ten?”

Stiles nearly broke his neck while whipping his head to look at the man standing in the doorway of his bedroom. “Dad? What- I mean, uh, no. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be doing your sheriff duties and arresting middle-aged drunk uncles?”

“I’m leaving for the station in a few hours, it’s only noon.” Noah wasn’t too excited to lead to night shift, especially on New Year’s Eve, and Stiles’ lips made a thin line when he realized that most people weren’t drunk yet. “Why are you so tense?”

“I’m not tense!” he spit back, a little too quickly, earning him raised eyebrows from his father. Stiles relaxed his shoulders as he attempted to make a smooth recovery. “I’m just mentally preparing for all of the self-improvement I’m going to be doing tomorrow.”

The sheriff remained unamused and disbelieving. “Like what?”

“Like... jazzercise?” Stiles winced as soon as he said such an absurd fib, knowing well that it wouldn’t get him out of his interrogation.

“Really? You too?”

The boy’s jaw dropped. There was no way... “Wait, what?”

Smirking, just like his son had done countless times, and turning to walk down the hall, he said, “I better not have to arrest you too tonight.”

Stiles let out a breath of relief and called out after him. “I’ll be on my best behavior! Don’t you worry, Pops!”

With clammy hands, he drove to Scott’s house, already losing time because he was running late. He may have cut himself while attempting to shave the peach fuzz on his chin, and there was a lot of blood. Embarrassing for him, but his intentions to look his best for the biggest night of his life thus far were undoubtedly sweet.

Parking against the curb across the street, he recognized the other cars around him, signifying that he was the last to arrive. The clock was ticking way too fast. He didn’t want to believe that it was already 9:38, but he sort of had to. He had shit to do.

He took a long swig of water from the plastic bottle that had been festering in the cupholder for who knows how long, took a deep breath, and swung his door open. Marching up to the front door, he tried to shake the anxiety out through his hands and focused on taking more deep breaths, but suddenly he was sweating all over and his mouth was dry yet again. These side effects made him shake his head and roll his eyes at himself. He’d known this girl forever, the worst she could say was no. Or laugh in his face...

He slapped his own cheek and whispered harshly, “Get it together, Stiles. Be a man. It’s just a few little words. You’ve had all year to do this. You’ve done enough preparing. Be a man.”

At last, he stepped into his best friend’s home and saw everyone seated around the coffee table, playing Uno with two decks: Aiden, Isaac, Allison, and Ethan were relaxed on the couch as Scott, Kira, Malia, Mason, Liam, and Stiles’ favorite gal sat on pillows and cushions on the floor. Well, except for Malia – she “didn’t care about a hard floor” and “grew up on them.”

“Stiles! You’re here!” That pretty voice and smile caught his attention. “Here, come sit with me, you can just be on my ‘team’ until this game is over,” she said, scooting over and making room for him on her cushion.

His heart just about melted and he quickly sat down next to her, against her, which sent tingles through his body.

The game continued, but all he wanted to do was demand that everyone leave them alone so he could spill his guts and beg for a date. He was beginning to feel a bit hot and queasy, and he repeatedly checked the time as the minutes slowly passed. However, he watched her closely during her turns and quietly whispered strategy advice over her shoulder to aid her in disposing of her cards. Hearing her whisper back, raving about how smart he was made him blush furiously.

“Hey, what happened to your chin?” she asked while Allison played her turn.

Stiles looked at her with confusion at first. “My what?” Realization washed over him as his fingertips brushed over the tender mark left behind from his earlier incident. The fact that she noticed made his face turn another shade darker. “Oh, that. It’s nothing. Basically a paper cut.”

“Basically?”

“Kind of. Almost.”

“Almost a paper cut? How does paper almost cut you and still leave a mark?” she said, a smile growing on her face.

Chuckling, he gave in. “Alright, fine. I cut myself while shaving. But I swear it wasn’t my fault. The razor just came at me out of nowhere!”

Hearing her laugh at his dumb joke made him grin like a doofus (a cute doofus).

“Wow, I didn’t know you even knew how to shave. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“Hey! I’ve been shaving for years, you just haven’t noticed because I’m so skilled at it. I’m as precise as a ninja.”

“Clearly not, since you cut yourself,” she pointed out, smirking.

“I told you; it was the razor!”

After a couple more games of Uno, the group diverted into other activities: chatting, dancing, snacking, arm wrestling, etc. But every time Stiles could pull away and hunt her down, someone would drag her into another conversation or game of Connect 4. Usually, he wouldn’t mind yanking a person wherever he wanted, however, that look of joy she wore made it impossible for his hands to reach out.

Additionally, a stronger feeling of guilt was creeping over him. The fear of somehow violating her and making her feel uncomfortable with their friendship formed a blackhole in his stomach. He couldn’t bear being responsible for flipping her whole world upside down. What if she didn’t want to see him again? Or what if she tells everyone that he’s a creep? What if he has to disappear forever?

Of course, these scenarios he was conjuring were completely unrealistic; he knew that because he knew her. He knew almost everything there was to know about her. He studied her soul with interest and delight because she was so enticing and alluring to him. She was like a beautiful mystical creature who blessed him with companionship. Though, as the time inched closer to his deadline, he seemed to lose his sense of reality.

Before he knew it, the pack was gathering around the TV, watching the countdown on the local News, and finding a couch, chair, or fireplace to jump off of and into the New Year. Stiles’ heart was thumping and he felt faint. He was pulled up onto the couch by the hood of his jacket, and he looked over to see that pretty smile again, but he only frowned as people began counting down.

“10, 9...”

“Stiles?”

With a shaky jaw, he bit his lip.

“...8, 7...”

“What’s wrong?”

“...6, 5, 4...”

“Stiles-”

“...3, 2...”

“Will you go out with me?” he finally blurted, feeling hot tingles rush through him in waves.

Her jaw went slack.

“...1! Happy New Year!”

Everyone jumped down and cheered in celebration, blissfully unaware of the thick air surrounding the pair who awkwardly stepped down from the couch.

Stiles stared at her blank face before deciding to let his stupid hopes and dreams die in that living room. He didn’t want to keep looking into those eyes with the knowledge of the inevitable consequences that would soon be coming his way.

She glanced around and saw a couple kisses being shared, but when her gaze returned to Stiles, he was turning away, preparing to walk out of there as quickly as possible. Letting her instincts take over, she grabbed his shoulders, turned him around and placed a sweet but firm kiss on his cheek.

The boy’s eyes widened and his face and neck turned bright red, once again.

“Yes, I will go out with you.” She beamed at him with rosy cheeks.

Stiles kept staring at her with wide eyes until he cleared his throat and somewhat pulled himself together. “Oh, yeah, cool. That’s, um, really cool.”

“Cool? Stiles, I’ve been waiting forever for you to ask me out, and now that you have, all you’re saying is ‘cool’?”

His eyebrows shot up, realizing how insanely inappropriate his reaction was. “Oh my god, I am such an idiot, that is not what I meant at all, I swear-” He stopped suddenly. “Wait. You’ve been waiting for me to ask you out forever?”

She simply smiled at him again. “Happy New Year, Stiles.”

[literaticat]

I'm at my wit's end. I've spent a decade trying to break through - 10 years with 5 novels coming super close with a variety of big publishers, who rave about my writing, ideas, etc. Feedback has been mostly positive. One even rejected saying "I don't know why we're rejecting this, it's EXACTLY what we're looking for and ticks all our boxes, but we feel compelled to reject it anyway." Is there just a "Do Not Publish" sign on my head? How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

(OP continues...) "Sorry about the rant, Jenn, and I know there's not much you can say as you don't know my specific situation. But it's just maddening. 10+ years of my life! I know everyone faces rejection, but I seem to mostly get positive feedback and so many "close calls" of almost getting a deal - a lot of interest, but then it just peters out. That "compelled to reject anyway" just made me start feeling like I'm just fated to never be published, no matter what? I'm unagented now, starting from scratch..."

OK first of all -- that rejection, if that is literally what they said, is utterly insane. I have to presume (HOPE? PRAY?) that you are paraphrasing, that that is what it *felt* like to you, but that's not LITERALLY what they said??? Because there are certainly things where, on the surface, yes, this is what a publisher is looking for and it "ticks the boxes", but ultimately, it doesn't have that X-factor, je ne sais quois, or whatever -- so I can see a publisher saying something like, "while the writing is admirable and the premise is interesting, ultimately, we weren't compelled enough to make an offer for publication" -- which is ALMOST what you said, but there's a key difference that makes it actually normal and not insane. Because in YOUR version, it sounds like they are under an imperius curse or something, where they don't know what they are doing or why they are doing it, they just have to do it, even though it is against what WOULD be their better judgment if they weren't cursed. And... it's wild to think that a publisher would make a statement like that. (Maybe they were having a very OFF DAY???) -- BUT ANYWAY, on to the crux of your question/rant:

I understand your frustration. If it makes you feel any better (??), you're not alone. I know many -- MANY -- MANY career authors, who spent 10 years honing their craft, trying and failing, getting rejections, getting close-but-no-cigars, etc. I was chatting with a wise (and now famous) author I know, who spent 10 years or so in the query/wrong-agent/rejection/close-call trenches. She told me a theory that I feel pretty sure is right, though I don't have proof per se, it does track with my observations. She said:

Just about everyone who sticks with writing or the arts in general as a career has about a ten-year rough patch. That doesn't mean it takes everyone ten years to get published! (Though it does take LOTS of people 10+ years) -- Some lucky people get their break a lot sooner than that. BUT. Everyone has to pay the piper that ten year fee, either all at once, or in installments. So let's say you sell your book right away and start raking in the accolades etc -- fab! Just know that nobody stays popular and beloved forever, and at some point, the ten year slump is coming for you. Aren't you lucky that you're getting yours out of the way now?

OK, if that didn't work for you, how about this:

How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

You know you don't have to, right?

Like, if writing and seeking traditional publication is making you miserable -- you can stop. In fact, stopping may be a great idea.

I say this not to be discouraging, but rather, encouraging, actually. I encourage you to give yourself permission to prioritize your own mental and emotional well-being.

If you realize you miss writing and can't live without it -- go back to it! But maybe instead of having "publication" as your goal, your goal can be writing for the pure joy of it, without worrying about future queries or would-be agents or anyone else's expectations. What freedom! Embrace that!

Then when you do have a brand-new shiny manuscript, you can decide your next steps. Maybe it's trying again for traditional publishing, and this is the turn around the track that changes everything. (It should be close, if the 10 year theory is correct!)

OR, maybe it's self-publishing. (Lots of people have a lot of success there -- maybe you're one of them!) --

OR, maybe it's just chilling out and writing some more for your own pleasure -- creating art for the sake of creating it, for fun, for self-fulfillment, etc. Like, you know, a normal hobby, that nobody is expecting you to monetize or make into a "gig".

[isagispuzzle]

congrats on 200!!! this is for ur event hehe

my favorite trope is just lots and lots of tension between ppl who clearly like each other AHHH ITS SO OMG

thank you and sorry for the wait!! building tension is still so difficult for me, so thank you for requesting this so i can push myself haha, hope you like it!! (also, it gets a little suggestive at the end. but what else would you expect with oliver)

oliver is not slick. he might think he is, given how many women he's easily won over, but when his teammates see their poor captain gazing longingly at their manager, they can only sigh.

it seems like the entire world but the two of you are aware of the feelings oliver and you harbour for each other, and to be frank, the u-20 team is absolutely sick of it.

ever since you joined them as their manager, they've stopped hearing about oliver's failed dates, and they've stopped catching oliver flirting with a new girl in the front rows after every one of their matches. instead, oliver has added a new line to his template interview responses, thanking their "dear manager" for the unwavering support, and he's added a new stop to his post-training journey, where he'll walk you home before he picks up his takeout dinner.

neru even overhears oliver asking you out for dinner once. you turned him down with a smile, citing you already had plans, and told him to go ahead with the rest of the team. neru chokes when you tell oliver not to ask someone out for dinner with such a smile on his face, because he'll give them the wrong idea.

(of course, oliver didn't invite the others to dinner after that.)

neru tells the others about this, and they're equally as frustrated and perplexed, because how could you be brushing off oliver's advances if you were into him too? beyond that, why was oliver hiding behind the excuse of a dinner instead of flat out asking you out on a date? did he not notice the way your feelings bled into the way you treated him, versus the rest?

of course, the team knows you try your best to be professional and fair. they have no complaints about your care for them, other than the sickly sweet smile you'd have on your face when you go up to oliver first after every game to tell him good job, or the way you lean into his space and hang off every last word he says, or the way your eyes always stick to him like magnets whenever he's in the room. maybe to add one last complaint, they can't stand how you don't realise oliver does all that back to you too.

the u-20 team, excluding oliver and you, gather for dinner that night and conspire. they put together their observations of the two of you and assert their theories on why you're still not together yet, despite the obvious spark and oliver's usual straightforwardness. it's a rather comical scene, the nine boys speculating and gossiping about their captain's love life with seriousness that easily measured up to their post-match debriefs.

they leave their dinner-turned-conspiracy-meeting satisfied with their conclusion that perhaps, you brush off oliver's advances as just a part of him because you know about his flirtatious tendencies, and perhaps, oliver is getting discouraged by your lack of reciprocity, which is why he doesn't push you as much as he normally would.

what they don't know is that your rejections have only made oliver more intrigued and mindful of your boundaries, things he hasn't cared much about in the past, and they have only made him more addicted to the chase. oliver knows he'll have to work doubly hard to make you look his way, not as a part of the u-20 team but as a man, so for now, he'll revel in your scent when he leans in to help you with your bags. for now, he'll savour the fleeting touches of your fingertips when you carefully tape his knee.

because once he breaks down your walls, he'll be able to do everything he's been dreaming of to you.

[jayktoralldaylong]

Their Father: Doffy, I'm sorry.

Doflamingo: You're sorry?

(And in that moment, he remembers their father....taking them from the wealth and privilege they were born into. Telling him to be nice to slaves. Getting their house burnt down by said slaves. So that they were stuck scavenging for food and getting beaten every day by slaves. His mother dies before them without a funeral in a beggars shack. His father begs for the wealthy to save them but they are cast aside. Doffy had to listen to his baby brother cry himself to sleep every night. They lived a life struggling, begging and getting tortured by slaves.)

Rocinate, begs: Doffy wait! He's still our father. He meant no harm. Please Doffy, he's all we have!

Doffy, elder sibling anger boiling in his heart: I don't forgive you.

(He kills their father in front of Rocinate.)

That is the day that Rocinate realises his brother has become a monster, and that he will spend the rest of his life trying to end Doflamingo.

That is the day Doflamingo decides that he will do anything to protect his family. Even if the person he has to shoot down.....is family.

"Doffy was a monster from the start."

I don't believe that. Yes, he was racist and oppressive, he was raised in that environment. When he was taught to be kind, Kindness saw the death and suffering of all the people he loved.

Throughout he asked questions "Why is mother dead? Why am I hungry? Why are we in pain?"

His father never gave a satisfactory answer. He just begged and cried for his children to be spared, but the boys got tortured anyway.

Obviously the moral lesson Doffy would take from that....is that kindness is for suckers. 💀

No I don't support his actions in Dressrosa. He enslaved an entire population of people. He didn't just execute rebels either, he broke them first. 💀 He was a monster. He needed to be stopped. He said Dressrosa was his birthright, it would have been given to him if he'd still been a Celestial Dragon. So either way, Luffy would have eventually beat him up in Dressrosa. 😂💔

But then what would have happened to Law? Doffy was the only one to accept the dying boy. Everyone rejected him cause they thought he was cursed. But not Doffy.

A little boy who tied bombs around his neck. He knew his disease would discourage people so he even offered to be used for a suicidal mission. He didn't care who took him, he just wanted to destroy. Doffy saw the hatred burning in that child's eyes and he smiled.

Doffy took that child and set him at his table, scolding the crew when they feared Law's disease. He gave Law access to everything he could learn on that ship. He let Corazon disappear for weeks in an attempt to cure Law's disease. He found the cure for Law.

Doffy was a tyrant, yes. But he loved his family.

Unfortunately, finding the cure for Law marked the end of the time he would spend....loving that boy. For Law would take his brother from him.

Doffy said he'd kill anyone who dared lay a finger on his brother. Ironic. He ended up killing him with his own hands.

(Every time I remember the Donquixote tragedy I go into a rant.)

Do you think at the end, when they both pointed guns at each other, Doffy knew that Corazon would never be able to pull the trigger? Do you think that made him angry? Knowing his brother was all talk. That he'd joined his crew to kill him and he'd been provided with many opportunities, but he'd never done it. Even though Doffy trusted him more than anyone else. Angry cause he knew his brother could never kill him. Angry cause he knew he was not the same. Angry cause he wished.... Corazon had kept on pretending. Then he wouldn't have to pull that trigger.

Corazon means Heart.

Doflamingo gave him that name.

I shouldn't wish someone as terrible as Doffy got a better life but..... I wish his father's plan had not failed so epically. I wish he'd been able to teach that boy to be kind. He clearly had the capacity for it. 😭😭😭😭

Yet another irony, Doffy's father sought to turn a tyrant into a kind man. Doffy sought to turn a doctor into a tyrant with Law. They both failed.

[jillianallen14]

Incredibly proud of Crowley and how strong/brave he is in the finale

This is gonna be really long, so if you’re in a rush, here’s a TLDR: Crowley is hella brave for confessing to Aziraphale even after Aziraphale spoke first, especially given Aziraphale’s track record of rejecting him, and I’m so proud of him. I’m also proud of him for standing his ground and not giving in because he usually always does whatever Aziraphale asks eventually. Crowley needs to learn to truly stand on his own two feet in order to have a successful relationship with Aziraphale, and Aziraphale needs to learn how to choose/put Crowley first just as much as Crowley chooses him and puts him first. Basically, in human terms, Crowley currently has an anxious attachment style and Aziraphale has an avoidant one, and they both need to get to healthy attachment styles in order for them to work.   

See how long that tldr was? That’s what you’re in for if you read this whole thing lol. 

Alright, here we go. 

Disclaimer: I love Aziraphale so much, but I think he has a lot of work to do before he’s ready to “deserve” the kind of love Crowley is offering him. I also think he is 100% going to put in that work, though. 

So Crowley’s tried to advance things forward with Aziraphale many times over their thousands of years together, and usually these advances are rejected, though sometimes Aziraphale does come around. He’s the one who suggests the Arrangement (and sort of gets rejected at first). He’s the one who is constantly pushing the idea that the two of them are on their own team. He makes grand gestures, rescues Aziraphale, and he makes a lot of sacrifices. In the 1960′s, he tells Aziraphale that he’ll take him anywhere he wants to go, just to be told, “You go too fast for me, Crowley.” I sort of count this as “run away together” offer #1 because I think that’s what Crowley is subtextually offering here. His second offer of running away together is also rejected during the almost-apocalypse. He suggests Aziraphale stay at his place when Aziraphale’s bookshop burned down and is once again rejected, though not as directly as some of the others. Aziraphale calls their friendship/partnership “fraternizing” in the 1800s. In the bandstand fight scene, Aziraphale tells Crowley, “We’re not friends” and “I don’t even like you.” 

Of course, we as viewers know that Aziraphale says and does most of these things because he’s constantly trying to protect Crowley from Hell’s punishments. We know that Crowley is what Aziraphale loves most in the world, and honestly, Crowley probably knows it, too. But I’m sure that doesn’t stop the constant onslaught of rejection from hurting and from discouraging him from ever really wanting to have The Big Conversation (the “what are we and what do you want us to be” conversation, as it were lol). 

Crowley has been relentlessly chasing Aziraphale for literal thousands of years, and Aziraphale never really gives all of himself to Crowley in return. That’s got to sting, and that’s got to be so disheartening, even though Crowley is definitely aware Aziraphale does love him/care about him. We all give Crowley shit about not communicating properly, but imagine how hard that would be when he gets that kind of a reaction whenever he does try to communicate? It would certainly not make it any easier. 

In addition to the chasing that Crowley does, he is also the one to almost always give in and apologize. We’ve established that Aziraphale says no to many of the requests Crowley makes of him. And yes, often Crowley says no the first time Aziraphale makes requests of him as well, but Crowley usually comes around. And Crowley always apologizes, even when he really shouldn’t have to because Aziraphale was also at fault or, at the very least, they should both be apologizing. We rarely ever see Aziraphale actually apologize for the hurtful shit he says and does to Crowley. Yes, we know from season 2 that Aziraphale has done the apology dance, so we can infer apologies do happen from time to time, but how often do we actually see this? Not often. 

I love Aziraphale to death, but he has a “my way or the highway” mentality, and Crowley gives in like every single time lol. (Because we know Crowley is so in love it’s not even funny and would do pretty much anything to keep Aziraphale around. #Aziraphale fell first but Crowley fell harder (or at least accepted it earlier) #I will die on this hill). 

So now we get to their fight in the finale of season 2. 

Crowley was so ready to confess. Our boy was prepared. He probably sat in that bookshop rehearsing what he was going to say over and over [just thinking about this hurts my heart lol, ouch]. Then Aziraphale comes in and Crowley literally asks Aziraphale if he [Crowley] can talk first, and Aziraphale still interrupts him (lol, Aziraphale, come on). [I really do wonder how that scene would have gone if Aziraphale had let Crowley speak first; fanfic writers, I’m looking at you]

Then Aziraphale proceeds to say Crowley’s worst nightmare lol. We can literally see on Crowley’s face that his heart is already breaking, and I’m sure he knows there’s a good chance he’s about to receive “let’s run off/be together” rejection #3. To be fair, Aziraphale is literally also telling Crowley he wants to be together, but all Crowley seems to be hearing is the “in heaven, as angels” part. So at this point, Crowley can be pretty sure the love of his eternal life is “choosing Heaven” over him once again [we, as viewers, know this isn’t really the case, but Crowley doesn’t]. 

Yet, he interrupts Aziraphale. He makes Aziraphale let him talk, he doesn’t just let himself be talked over or unheard this time, and Crowley proceeds to confess anyway and practically does the Good Omens equivalent of asking Aziraphale to marry him. Like holy shit, y’all. That takes some massive balls. 

Crowley is “rejected” (kinda-sorta; Aziraphale isn’t rejecting Crowley this time, just the “running off” bit, but Crowley sees it as a rejection of him). Fighting ensues. Aziraphale says accidentally hurtful things because he’s just as bad at communicating as Crowley is lol (ie “Nothing lasts forever” instead of saying, “You matter more to me than this bookshop,” which is what he meant). Crowley is literally beyond heartbroken, you can see it all over his face, especially when he puts the sunglasses back on. And yet he still has the courage to kiss Aziraphale? BRO. BROOOOO. I want what Crowley has lol because he’s certifiably insane for having the balls to do that. 

I’ve seen people say that the kiss was the wrong thing for Crowley to do in that moment, but I don’t agree. They were still talking past each other, and Crowley needed to do something to make sure Aziraphale knew exactly what he was offering (marriage). Crowley needed to do that because if he didn’t, there was still going to be ambiguity, which would make their eventual resolution harder in the end. I also think Crowley just wanted to kiss him out of desperation because he thought it would be his last chance and because he wanted to show Aziraphale exactly what he was saying no to, but that’s beside the point. And yes, the kiss broke Aziraphale’s heart, but I truly and genuinely think Aziraphale needed to have his heart broken this time in order for him to grow. 

Then Aziraphale once again says something incredibly hurtful and rejects him again. And what does Crowley do? He doesn’t run away this time, like he usually does. He goes out by the Bentley and stands there and watches Aziraphale. I think he did this partly out of the desire to give Aziraphale one last chance and partly out of a desire to make Aziraphale sit there and look at him as he chooses Heaven again. Balls, man, I tell you. 

And Crowley doesn’t go back to him, and he doesn’t beg him to stay. And he doesn’t give himself up completely to be with this person who can’t accept him as he is. He lets himself be known, and then he holds his ground. He doesn’t let someone fundamentally change him just for love. He doesn’t lose himself to love. 

And this leads me to my next point, which is that this fight needed to happen because both Crowley and Aziraphale have lessons to learn. 

Crowley’s lesson is that he needs to learn how to stand on his own two feet. He needs to learn how to put himself first sometimes so that he doesn’t completely lose himself to Aziraphale. He needs to learn how to say no, to really say no. He needs to learn how to hold his boundaries. He needs to develop an identity outside of Aziraphale and what Aziraphale wants/needs him to be, discover what he wants even when Aziraphale isn’t around. He also needs to learn how to clearly state and ask for what he wants and needs. I think him learning this lesson will also help with his anger issues because the kind of people-pleasing self-effacement that Crowley does for Aziraphale only breeds resentment, which comes out every time they get in an argument. 

And Aziraphale’s lesson is that he needs to learn how to really choose Crowley, not try to change him, not try to pretend he’s something he’s not. He needs to learn how to take Crowley exactly as he is. He needs to learn how to give Crowley as much as Crowley gives him so that their partnership is on more of an equal footing. Essentially, his lesson is the opposite of Crowley’s: where Crowley needs to learn how to not lose himself completely to Aziraphale, Aziraphale needs to learn how to lose himself a little bit to Crowley. I’m not saying Aziraphale is selfish because he’s absolutely not, but I am saying that his sense of individuality is a little too strong and that doesn’t exactly work when you’re trying to have a long-term, committed relationship/partnership with someone because yes, you’re still an individual, but you’re also now part of a unit. And that requires making decisions together and genuinely hearing the other person out. It requires compromising, which Aziraphale is not particularly good at. 

Crowley needs to let go a little bit and Aziraphale needs to hold on a little tighter so that they can meet in the middle. You can see this in almost all of their fights. When things don’t go Aziraphale’s way, he immediately resorts to telling Crowley he can leave. Think of this as the two of them holding on to opposite ends of a taut rope: Crowley pulls a little too hard, and Aziraphale lets the rope loosen, leaving Crowley to fall backwards on his own. Aziraphale needs to learn how to hold onto that rope just a little tighter so that him and Crowley are putting in equal amounts of effort.

And folks, they’re gonna do it. They’re gonna put in the work. They’re gonna learn their lessons. And then they’re going to kiss and make up (preferably with Aziraphale initiating the kissing this time lol, let’s give poor Crowley a rest and let him be chased for once). And then we’re going to get the most beautiful, loving, healthy relationship. But they just have to go through this first. It’ll make their resolution so much more satisfying. 

So Aziraphale, it’s time to do some chasing.  

[jstor]

Hello, JSTOR!

I'm about to graduate with my first Master's and two of my professors who have helped me with my thesis (which is a literature review because the IRB views the topic to be too sensitive to be empirical). Do you have any tips on how to pursue publication for the first time? Not many professors in my program have done a literature review and published it, nor has anyway with a Master's or PsyD/PhD at my job, so we're not sure about how to go about it. (I've been trying to search, it's hard between writing a thesis, working, and having Dr.s think my seizures are fake).

Thank you much for any information.

-🦎 Lizard

Hi there Lizard,

Thanks for sharing this with us. I'm happy to share a few best practices/advice based on what you've mentioned, but I'd also love if the community could hop in to share their experiences as well.

Before I get into that, I just want to remind you to prioritize your health and well-being first and foremost! It's great that your research is near and dear to you, but never feel guilty or like you need to justify putting yourself first. I'm sure there are plenty of relevant journals waiting in the wings for what you have to offer when the time comes. <3

It looks like you're in the psychology field. Publications like Psychological Bulletin and Psychological Review look like they may be a good fit after a quick search, but I have to disclaim this isn't my (the mod) particular field. Perhaps your professors have colleagues they know outside the program who have successfully published literature reviews. You may want to chat with them about their network.

Also worth noting that peer feedback can be invaluable, so if possible, have a few colleagues or mentors review your work before you submit.

Finally, we know the publication process can be challenging, especially when juggling other responsibilities. Don’t be discouraged by any initial setbacks or rejections—they’re a normal part of academic publishing. If needed, take your time to revise and resubmit.

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

May I please request headcanons for Shanks trying to seduce a woman who doesn’t fall for his charm and has a cynical attitude towards men?

What a fun idea I hope you like it

🍶Shanks🍶

Word Count: 658

Shanks watched her as she smiled seductively at him, she knew how to get his attention, her cold but mysterious attitude always called to him. He kept an eye on her as she refused another man’s advances who bought her a drink trying to flirt.

He watched from the sideline like he always did as the scene unfolded, the man offered her the drink he ordered for her. She scowled at the drink arms folded over her chest, she made eye contact with Shanks again and stuck out her tongue before dumbing the drink on the male and walking away.

Shanks blinked surprised before chuckling, grabbing his own drink, and taking a sip. He was studying the woman every time she denied a suitor that approached her. He didn’t find them a threat, recognizing the habit of the woman.  She never took a drink from any suitors, she hated a very specific kind of drink but would always order another drink. She at times took advantage of some poor sap who thought he might get lucky only to be dumbed or humiliated.

He came to this bar a few times every night and he exchanged a few words with her. She seemed standoff at first, and having had his drink dumbed on him a few times. It seemed to always surprise her whenever he tilted his head back and laughed in such amusement at another failed attempt to woo her before sticking out his tongue and licking the alcohol dripping from his red hair on the back of his good hand.

She had been surprised by this man’s laughter at being rejected but didn’t seem discouraged by her rejection or even angry. He continued to laugh it off, stood up, and gave her a wink, “I will see you another time,” he smiled before sitting with his crew who also teased and laughed with him.

This was the pattern for a bit, but after a while, she did find him charming as he spoke about his adventures as a pirate or places he had been, he had been close to wooing her, buying her favorite drink or bringing out flowers he found out on the street. Some were beautiful and colorful, others were just weeds he picked because he liked how it looked.  He ordered her favorite drink knowing what she liked. But most of all his kind nature and smile even after being rejected so many times didn’t change.

She would watch females flock to him every time he landed, he would flirt carelessly with them calling them all beautiful and accepting their gifts, but he never chased after them. Before he would make eye contact with her and smirk. Was this all part of his plan to woo her? Showing all the women that surrounded him? She rolled her eyes before walking away.

He would follow her he always did. He followed her to the bar, watching men woo her but making no progress before he made his way to her and offered to pay for her drink. Only smiling at her, a smile that only reached his eyes, his shirt slightly unbuttoned and showing his toned chest, life at sea was rough she could see it in his muscles and how he was built. And yet he smelled of sake and the ocean. He ordered their drinks and took a seat next to her before pulling out crushed flowers from his coat pocket.

“For you,” he said, he was a bit unshaven as usual but it worked for him giving his face a kinder but more mature look to his face.

“I am not going to fall for you,” she told him giving a flirtatious smile and taking a sip of the drink he bought her, “I don’t fall for pirates,” she teased.

“I know, but I will get you to fall for me one way or another,” he gave a charming smile and winked.

[himexyandere]

leumin as a incubus seducing a Mc that refuses them every night?

Sassy and defiance mc!!

Incubus!Leumin would have such an infuriating personality LOL. I feel like he would be a lot more assertive too, when it comes to getting what he wants. If MC is defiant and denies him at every turn, then he would get even more persistent and try harder to break them down.

No matter how many times you deny him, he still wouldn't be perturbed or discouraged. He loves the thrill and prefers when his prey fights back. Night after night, he'll keep coming back until you start to wonder why the hell he doesn't just find someone else- 😭

Once he gets you (and he will) to break, that'll be the longest night of your life. He's got to make up for all the times you've rejected him, after all, so don't expect to sleep. Unless you pass out from the sheer amount of times he'll make you orgasm, of course 😌

Also, he would definitely put a womb tattoo on you-

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Hi everyone,

As I said earlier, I wanted to post more about ADHD burnout. I found an article that explained it pretty well. This excerpt is going to be long, so I apologize in advance:

ADHD Burnout

What is ADHD Burnout?

It’s possible that you’ve heard of Autistic burnout; however, ADHDers have a unique experience of burnout. Symptoms of ADHD burnout more broadly include:

Lack of motivation

Inability to concentrate

Guilt

Depression

Anxiety

Poor productivity

Irritability

Cynicism

The overlap of symptoms and comorbid conditions can make it difficult to identify when ADHDers are truly struggling with burnout, though.

ADHD burnout is often something a little deeper. It refers to the cycle of overcommitting and overextending that leads to fatigue in people with ADHD. It involves taking on too many tasks and commitments, and then the subsequent exhaustion that happens when we’re unable to fulfill all of our obligations.

Why do people with ADHD struggle with burnout?

1. We’re overcompensating and overcommitting

Growing up, many ADHDers experienced the crushing weight of expectation. Whether it was caregivers or educators, we were often told that we weren’t trying hard enough. It felt like we were always just shy of reaching our full potential.

In actuality, we were being asked to function like neurotypical children, and without adequate support for our ADHD brains and executive dysfunction struggles. This is where many of us internalized the idea that we were lazy, careless, or unintelligent.

These false beliefs can lead to overcompensation, in which we compulsively try to please people and make up for these “shortcomings” we think we have. We’re constantly striving, though the goal posts keep moving on us.

This tendency to people-please can be carried into our adulthood, and is a recipe for overexertion. It also makes it difficult to admit that we’re struggling, because we don’t want to let others down. This relentless effort to appear neurotypical is often referred to as “ADHD masking,” and can be a source of real fatigue for people with ADHD.

2. We feel guilty for resting

When we’re already combating a stereotype of laziness, many of us feel guilty about resting. It can feel easier to be in constant motion (whether we experience hyperactivity or not!) because it feels safer to be doing something than risk the judgment that can come with doing “nothing.”

We might even believe that if we were to allow ourselves to rest, we would never get anything done, because we would struggle to get started again (task initiation is a big struggle for us). The irony is that denying yourself rest is the quickest route to exhaustion, and can exacerbate ADHD symptoms. It can be hard to pump the brakes and practice rest when there are so many negative associations with it.

After a lifetime of being told to “try harder,” it can feel counterintuitive—sometimes impossible—to try less and rest more

3. We struggle to recognize our limits and set boundaries

Part of executive dysfunction means that we have trouble sequencing, initiating, and organizing our tasks — which are all symptoms of ADHD. This also means we struggle to estimate how much time and effort something will take, making it easy to overcommit by accident. We may also struggle with setting boundaries.

As people-pleasers, we were discouraged from having boundaries at a young age. We may struggle to say “no” for fear of disappointing others or being rejected (something we’re already sensitive to anyway; this is known as rejection sensitive dysphoria).

As we accumulate more and more tasks, it can begin to feel unmanageable, leading to the dreaded overwhelm-shutdown. This is a freeze response that can happen when we’re unable to begin or complete a task. This “stuck” feeling can exacerbate our anxiety and make it difficult to move forward.

How to avoid ADHD burnout:

There are some golden rules for preventing burnout that I think are crucial for ADHDers to remember. Here are a few:

1. Affirm your self-worth

Your worth is not dependent upon what you give to people, and your sole purpose in life isn’t to make everyone but yourself happy. As the saying goes, “Don’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm.” You are inherently valuable, regardless of how useful, productive, or helpful you are to others.

2. Practice saying “no” without apologizing

You can’t be everything to everyone, and your capacity is not limitless, no matter what your brain tells you. Give yourself full permission to say “no, I can’t,” “I don’t have time for that,” “I’m not available at that time,” and every other variation on that. You may disappoint someone, sure!

But you aren’t responsible for managing other people’s emotions.

3. Overestimate how much time something will take

This is a general rule that I find quite helpful. Take the amount of time you think something will take—and double it. It may feel absurd at first, but it’s better to overestimate than to underestimate, and this will help you get a stronger sense of your limitations.

4. Commit to rest

Notice I’m saying “commit to rest” and not “practice self-care.”

Some of us (certainly not me…) have turned self-care into another set of expectations we feel the need to fulfill. Let that go.

Instead, practice: laying down, daydreaming, deep breathing, and anything else that helps you reset.

5. Ask for help when you need it

It’s okay to struggle, and it’s okay to ask for support when you do struggle—whether that's therapy, your colleagues, an ADHD coach or a manager at work.

Workplace accommodations and school accommodations can also make a huge difference.

6. Drop the mask

Many neurodiverse individuals try to mask their ADHD and/or autism by not letting others see them sweat—but this doesn’t allow us the opportunity to be helped and supported when we need it most.

You deserve every resource you need to thrive—don’t convince yourself that you have to do this thing alone.

As always, the full article will be below if anyone wants to read it.

[valentinetypewriter]

Me and My Husband-Chapter 1

Summary + series masterlist

Main masterlist // marauders era masterlist

This is a slow burn wolfstar x reader/arranged marriage au

Word count : 2,724

The Marauders had all piled up into a carriage of the Hogwarts Express, sweets and lollies littering the seats and floor as they talked all about their break from school. Sirius had of course spent most of his break with the Potters once again before having to go back home before the start of their new school year. "We went to this muggle movie theatre and it was amazing, I've never been to one before" Sirius was currently spouting out about all the things he had done with James, not having a chance to do those kinds of things in his own home. "It was quite fun until we almost got kicked out because Padfoot here wouldn't shut up!" James spoke up with a humorous tone. "Well enough about that, how did your guys break go?" Sirius asked the other two boys after giving James a slight shove. Remus spoke up first "I went to visit my grandparents, they live out in the countryside, so it was nice to have some peace and quiet finally" Peter timidly spoke, a hint of concern in his voice. "Did you handle the full moons alright?" Remus gave a slight nod "it's a pretty secluded area, plus lots of room to run around" He gave Peter a smile to ease up any concern he had for the young Werewolf.

The rest of the trip was filled with mindless talk about more stuff that happened during their break, what kind of pranks they were planning this year and of course relationships. Sirius seemed to stiffen as soon as the topic had been brought up. Peter droned on about his new hufflepuff girlfriend he had gotten at the end of last year before asking the others if they had any crushes or anything. "Well I can't say I have one yet, but who knows this year I might get lucky" James said with a huge dorky grin on his face. After being rejected by Lily Evans far too many times the boy had decided it was best to move on, and now without the constant attempts to gain her affection they had become close friends. Sirius hadn't contributed much to the conversation though, in fact he hadn't spoken a word since Peter had brought the topic up. Although James and Peter didn't notice, the two boys continued with meaningless conversation. Remus on the other hand had noticed how Sirius was unusually quiet, his stormy eyes didn't look away from the window he was leaning against until the scarred hand of the tall boy touched his knee gently "you alright padfoot?" Remus's soft voice had always been pleasant to his ears. Sirius gave a small nod and faked a smile, though Remus could always tell when someone was faking a smile he just always knew, tilting his head as his eyebrows furrowed, clearly not believing what he had said. It scared Sirius just how much of an open book he seemed to Remus, though he guessed everyone felt that way about the tall boy. He knew Remus knew he was lying, he leant down towards him "I'm here if you need anything Sirius" giving him a soft smile, everything about Remus Lupin was soft, his hair, his voice, his warm skin and even the sweaters he always wore. Thankfully though he didn't press on, just leaving his large warm hand on Sirius's knee.

The train ride had come to an end soon after that, the four rowdy boys rushing off the train. All laughing like madmen at some stupid joke James had said. "Let's get to hogwarts quickly I'm starved" Sirius said with an over dramatic and drawn out sigh, James slung his arm around him as a laugh was drawn out from him "yeah because you totally didn't have enough from the trolley" Sirius elbowed him in the side, although that did nothing to discourage James. "Yeah padfoot you would've brought her whole stock if Moony hadn't stopped you" Peters jab had James cracking up all over again. Even Remus let out a small laugh, though Sirius just huffed "you're all the worst" shaking his head at his three friends. "Yeah but you'd be lost without us" James stated, ruffling up the hair of his best friend. As they continued walking Sirius caught sight of the one person he dreaded seeing around the school other than his younger brother, Y/n l/n, or as he referred to her since their last meeting during their break, the absolute bane of his existence. The sight of the expensive jewellery she wore on her hand made his thoughts bubble with anger, she was just as pompous and up herself as ever. He quickly dismissed the thoughts of her, not wanting to think more of it.

The four friends eventually found their way to the great hall, watching on as new 1st years were getting sorted. The boys were certainly the loudest when new students were sorted into Gryffindor. After the sorting and the same speech Dumbledore gave every year the feast had begun, everyone digging in and talking loudly with the people around them. Once the boys had finished eating they rushed to their dorm room, already excited to start planning out pranks for their last year. They all fell asleep quicker then they had initially planned on, the adrenalin wearing off as they started to crash out, barely out of their clothes or under their covers. Remus fell asleep sitting at his desk, his head leaning against his sweater he was using as a makeshift pillow. James was sitting upright, leant against the headboard of his bed, Sirius had crashed out at the end of James bed, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. And Peter had fallen asleep on his own bed, though lying on top of the covers in nothing but sweat pants he had changed into.

They woke up later than usual, all stiff and sore from the uncomfortable positions they slept in, except for Peter, he was just cold. They all got dressed and decided to go down to the courtyard, they had the entire weekend to settle back in before 7th year classes started. Which they were all eternally grateful for. The Marauders made their way outside, laughing and joking around as usual. Finding somewhere nice to sit they picked back up their conversation from last night. "So this year everything needs to be bigger and better boys" James announced, clapping his hands together "I was thinking that prank we did last year on Snivellus, when we turned his uniform bright pink for the whole day, was pretty good but we could definitely top that". As soon as he finished the four boys all had that same classic Marauders look on their faces that screamed they were up to no good and to steer clear. Sirius shot up "how about we make it rainbow and glitter" Peter laughed and added on "yeah we could even add frills this time" that sent the boys into a crazed fit of laughter all except Remus. It wasn't that he was against the idea, it was more that he had something else in mind "or we could turn his uniform into the girl's one" despite his voice not being as loud as the others, their laughter had completely stopped. Wide devious smiles quickly covered the shocked looks they gave him "Merlin Remus you're a bloody genius!" James shouted, as he ruffled his hair up in approval.

They continued talking about how they'd pull it off when James noticed none other than Lily Evans walking through the courtyard "hey Lily!" James shouted out without a second thought. Lily's head shot up and she smiled at the boys walking over with one of her friends she had been talking to. "Hello boys, I hope the break treated you all well" the boys responded with simple answers of head nods and even a thumbs up from Remus. Sirius had finally noticed who Lily just so happened to drag along with her, of course it just had to be her, Y/n. "Mind if we sit with you guys?" Lily asked, her tone as sweet as always. Sirius would have denied her, almost saying how they were planning some 'Marauders' stuff. But of course James beat him to it "of course not, go for it ladies" he smiled at the two girls as they sat down. Sirius was angry at this, not at James for letting her sit with them, but at Y/n for thinking she could just sit near him so casually.

Sirius couldn't help the hateful glare as he watched the girl in front of him, seemingly avoiding conversation with the rest of the Marauders. All he could focus on was the girl he deemed to be the bane of his existence talking away with Lily, the two only met because of Lily's best friend Severus due to the two being in Slytherin. His stormy eyes held a gaze with the glittering gem on her left ring finger, acting as a constant and cruel reminder of his unwanted fate. Remus of course had noticed, he always did when Sirius's mood suddenly changed. The Werewolf leant down to whisper into said boys ear "You know if you keep brooding at her you're going to burn holes into the back of her head" he let out a soft huff of amusement as the boy looked back over at him, an incredulous look on his face "I'm not brooding, I just don't like her" Remus had that look on his face, the kind of look that said yeah that's totally it. The boy shook his head leaving the over dramatic boy to continue his not brooding session.

Y/n knew Sirius was glaring, she could feel his eyes on her as soon as she sat down with Lily. She tried to ignore it, instead choosing to focus on her conversation with said girl about their breaks, the muggle born witch always asked about the balls and events Y/n went to. Neither minded talking about it, Lily got an inside view of what rich and exclusive Pure Blood gatherings were like and Y/n was able to boast about the overly expensive dresses and jewellery she wore to each event and how pretty she felt in them. She was able to ignore the glaring eyes that seemed almost harsh enough to feel in her skull, until Lily had pointed it out "you know Sirius has been staring at you this entire time" the Slytherin didn't spare a glance at the mentioned boy "I'm well aware, he's been doing that a lot lately, I have no idea why" she let out a scoff at the end of her sentence. As much as she liked to talk about every little detail that happened during her break to Lily. The one thing she just so happened to leave out was the meeting between both her family and the Blacks. When Y/n's left hand combed through her hair brushing it back giving Sirius a perfect view of the beautiful ring he had come to hate, and of course he had taken it as a personal insult, as if she was flaunting the expensive jewel on her finger to dig the knife deeper into him. And that kind of insult wasn't something he had taken very lightly as something seemed to snap inside him, the black haired boy stood up abruptly walking over to the two girls "may I have a word with you l/n" his stormy grey eyes filled with hatred and disgust met the dull and harsh eyes of the girl he stared down, awaiting an answer from her. "With all due respect Black I'm currently busy" despite the two seeming to hate each other's guts, they always still acted formal with each other, years of being raised by pure blood families leaving its mark on the two teens."Yes well it's a very urgent matter Y/n" at the use of her first name she sighed and stood from her seat next to Lily, Sirius had only ever seemed to use her first name when he was beyond angry at her "i'll be back soon Lily" the girl just smiled and nodded joining the conversation with the rest of the marauders as Sirius dragged her away. Remus noticed the tight grip his friend had on the girl's wrist, he felt a tinge of worry creeping up on him, though he seemed to be the only one who noticed, not even Lily had noticed how Sirius pulled away the girl she was just talking to a second ago. Remus knew he was overly perceptive sometimes to his own detriment, so he softly interrupted the group's chatter with the excuse of going to the bathroom. Only to follow the two teens who had just left, stopping just before turning the corner peeking over slightly to see the people he was looking for.

Sirius had cornered Y/n against the wall, not wanting to let her leave until he spoke to her "do you seriously have to wear that stupid ring everywhere" he scoffed down at her, disgust clear in his voice. The Slytherin rolled her eyes at the boy "my parents wanted me to, it's not like I could say no to them, you know what will happen if Regulus finds out you're not wearing yours, do you really want your parents to find out" it was now Sirius's turn to roll his eyes "that doesn't mean you have to flaunt it around and keep reminding me of it" the girls face morphed from slightly irritated to furious "Excuse me! You think I'm flaunting it, as if I ever wanted this, as if I like this any more than you do!" Her voice kept rising in octaves as she yelled at the boy in front of her. "All I'm saying is you seem far too comfortable wearing that to be too upset about it" he leaned down into her face, it was clear to Y/n he was trying to intimidate her, there was a pause of silence before a loud slap rang out in the empty corridor they had found themselves in. Sirius's hand shooting up to hold his now reddening and sore face "you prick! Stop speaking to me like that, as if you know anything about me, it's like you think it's my life's dream to be betrothed and bear children to some moronic teenage boy I hate, simply to uphold our stupid pure-blood lineage!" Sirius was too stunned to speak, he didn't know if it was because of the slap, the angry words the usually quiet girl had yelled at him, or the tears that were now violently streaming down her face. Y/n turned away from him, face red and hot from her anger and tears, in doing so she had locked eyes with none other than Remus Lupin who was standing at the end of the corridor in shock only slightly out of view, both their eyes widening as their eyes locked. Y/n letting out a shocked gasp had alerted Sirius, whose head shot over to look at Remus, the tall Werewolf looking between the two, a slight bit of fear etched on his face at being caught. He looked down "sorry, I didn't mean to overhear anything, I was just worried about you" he didn't say who exactly he was talking about, eyes locking onto the floor. Though Remus himself didn't know who he was talking about either, only looking up when he heard the sudden movement of feet, watching as Y/n shoved Sirius away from her. Finally being freed from against the wall, she took off in the other direction, unable to contain her violent sobbing. Remus looked awkwardly at Sirius as he slowly made his way over, the taller boy staying still in his spot "you can't tell the others about this, can you promise me that Moony?" Remus seemed shocked, while he looked at Sirius. He seemed so vulnerable and scared, almost weak even as a few tears leaked down his face "I- I promise… I won't tell anyone anything" he gently put his hand on Sirius's shoulder. Said boy leaned into the touch of his friend, he sniffled slight before speaking "thank you Remus"