#most often it's exercised through control

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

the pro

part ii: what we're willing to accept

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader

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

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

Length: 4.8K

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

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

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

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

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

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

I don’t want you to get bored. 

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

Art Donaldson. 

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

“You ever played tennis before?” He asks. 

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

“We’ll start with the basics.” 

-- 

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

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

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

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

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

-- 

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

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

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

“No.” 

“Then how do you know?” 

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

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

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

“What do you wanna know?” 

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

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

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

“Lily?” 

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

“Oh!” It catches you off-guard.  

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

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

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

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

“...He seems to be pretty busy.” 

“He is.” 

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

“Play tennis.”

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

“It shows, you know,” He says. 

“What do you mean?” 

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

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

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

“Just good?” He plies. 

“The best. A real pro.” 

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

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

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

“She’s killing it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe.” 

--  

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

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

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

-- 

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

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

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

It spurs you to lunge a little too far. 

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

“What hurts?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.” 

-- 

“How’s the ankle?” 

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

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

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

“Good enough to walk on?” 

Hardly. 

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

“I have,” You insist, “All day.” 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Yes.” 

“You can tell him no, you know.”

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

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

-- 

I invited Art. 

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

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

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

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

“Almost ready in here?” He asks. 

“All set!” 

-- 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanted to come say hi.” 

“Well. Hi.” 

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

“Thanks for the invite.” 

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

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

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

“He isn’t taking care of you.” 

“My ankle is fine.” 

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

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

“Art,” You warn, “I—Oh, oh god—” 

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

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

“Condom?” He asks. 

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

“Art.” 

“Sssh.” 

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

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

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

“Art—” 

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

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

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

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

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

--  

“Can I see you?” 

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

“You just saw me,” You remind him. 

“Tomorrow,” Art clarifies. 

“Where?” 

“I’ll send an address.” 

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

“...You regret it?” He asks. 

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

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

“Okay.” 

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

--  

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

“Is this Lily?” You ask. 

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

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

Art chuckles, nodding as he steps around you.

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

“Art?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Why am I here?” 

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

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

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

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

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

-- 

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

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

--

"What time is he home tonight?"

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

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

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

"...Could stay."

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

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

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

"What?"

"Letting you go every day."

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

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

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

"Not when I want it, too."

part ii: what we're willing to accept

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ;

@buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations🧑‍🎄🎄🧑‍🎄

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

🎄 Scorpio in the 12th house, Mars in the 12th house and Aries over the 12th house natives often crave salty foods late in the evening.

🧑‍🎄 12th house also shows what you are like and like to do before bed or right before falling asleep.

Aries over the 12th house: getting into an argument right before going to bed, light work out, drinking a hot drink, you probably take extra care on your skin on your face especially

Taurus over the 12th house: eating before bed (especially sweets and fruits), preparing clothes for the next day, you probably have a very set bed time routine, drinking a cup of tea, putting on lip balm, listening to music

Gemini over the 12th house: journaling before bed, sending a message to your siblings, a close friend, scrolling on social media, reading a book or news, watching a documentary or news on TV, putting on hand cream, watering the plants, doodling, listening to a podcast

Cancer over the 12th house: spending time with your family members, especially mum, watching movies, eating something home cooked, looking through your photo album on your phone, drinking hot cocoa, warm bath or spending extra time in the shower, listening to music, texting your close friends/family members, using body lotion, drinking a glass of warm milk

Leo over the 12th house: spending time on your hobbies, interests, texting your crush, brushing your hair, warm bath before bed, listening to music

Virgo over the 12th house: reading before bed, reading the news, going through your planner, planning activities for the next day, journaling, gratitude journal, watering plants, doodling/drawing before bed, listening a podcast, stretching, yoga, watching animal videos

Libra over the 12th house: eating before bed (sweets, fruits), doing self-care (putting on a mask) or washing off make up, picking clothes for the next day, putting on night cream, putting on body lotion, putting on lip balm, drinking a cup of tea, colouring a colour book

Scorpio over the 12th house: light work out before bed, meditation, masturbation lol, drinking a hot drink, shaving, you like to be on your own in your room

Sagittarius over the 12th house: reading (but in a foreign language), watching a documentary, eating foreign food, putting on a sleep mask, using Duolingo and practising a language,

Capricorn over the 12th house: going through your planner for the next day, spending time with dad before bad, scrolling through social media, talking to your parents, drinking warm water with lemon, taking more time on your dental hygene

Aquarius over the 12th house: sending a good night message, stalking other people online lol, reading about astrology, guided meditation for sleep, putting on sock because you’re probably cold, charging your phone and other devices, spending time on your tablet

Pisces over the 12th house: watching a film directly in your bed, reading pick a card/tarot readings, watching anime, animated films or cartoons, conscious breathing exercises, guided meditation for sleep, putting on socks, yoga, stretching

🎄 You might not be as compatible as you think with other signs of the same modality as yours. So if you are a Cancer Sun, you might not get along so great, especially in partnerships, with Aries, Libra, Capricorn Sun, so other Cardinal signs. Same goes for Fixed signs, if you’re a Taurus Sun you could not get along that great with Aquarius, Leo, Scorpio Sun, since both might be too dominant and wanting to lead.

🧑‍🎄 When there is Moon conjunct Venus in Synastry, the Venus person tends to lead and the Moon person follows, because they let go off control due to feeling safe around Venus person.

🎄 I noticed the person most likely wanting to marry you has their personal planets (especially Sun) conjunct your Jupiter sign and not the other way around. So if you have Taurus Jupiter in your own Natal chart, Taurus Suns might most likely want to marry you, but it could also mean you might not necessarily want to marry them or see them as your ideal partner. If you have Aquarius Jupiter this doesn’t always mean you will want to marry an Aquarius Sun, but they might be the one wanting to marry you.

🧑‍🎄 You might consider someone your life partner or wanting to marry them if your Jupiter falls into their 1st house in Synastry. You might really see a future with them and this has potential for a long-term commitment.

🎄 Ex partners are most likely to describe you by your Moon sign after a break up. For example if you have Aries Moon in your Natal chart, your ex could describe you as “unsupportive”.

🧑‍🎄 When there is Sun conjunct Saturn in Synastry the connection could ver much feel “right person, wrong time”.

🎄 8th house shows your desires, 12th house your hopes, desires for the future, 11th house shows aspirations and Ascendant shows the pursuit of your innermost desires.

🧑‍🎄 People who have Moon conjunct Venus in their Natal chart often attract a romantic partner with Cancer Moon or Taurus over the 4th house.

🎄 Capricorn Rising might since childhood transform every hobby into a full-time career. For example, if they loved writing as a child or journaling, they might become an author as an adult.

🧑‍🎄 Cancer Suns really judge a person’s character based on what feeling the person gives them. So based on how they feel around you.

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

[vivmaek]

MARS SIGN OBSERVATIONS

♂ Pisces Mars - I think Lennie Small from “Of Mice and Men,” would have this placement. This is a person who is seemingly harmless, and yet they still managed to cause harm and destruction through indirect action. When looking at someone with a Pisces Mars, their innocence and an assumed lack of strength is noticed first. These are kind people. They would rather harm themselves over another person. Their first instinct isn’t to attack, but to defend. When angry, they appear to be caught up within a panic. A Pisces Mars is driven by their big dreams. They might not always know what they want out of life, and their goals and ambitions may change frequently. This does not mean that they are incapable of finding success. If anything, their unwavering belief in themselves and their ability to achieve the impossible is what takes them to great heights. Hope is everything for someone with this placement, it’s what gets them out of bed in the morning. 

♂ Aquarius Mars - It's hard to pin someone with this placement down. Their actions don’t make sense to other people. Aquarius does a good job showing its eccentricity through Mars. The rules of society and the opinions of others do not dictate their actions. These types are constantly surprising people, and they like this. The public will often speculate about those with an Aquarius Mars. Theories are formed about them, no one can guess what they’re going to do next. In my opinion, this is the most rebellious Aquarius placement. They live their life in a manner that is truly unconventional. People with this placement are not aggressive, but they are clever. They like outsmarting people. A sense of superiority can sometimes act as a driving force. They go out of their way to make the people around them feel stupid if they’re in a foul mood. Their need for independence will never be forsaken. 

♂ Capricorn Mars - Hard work doesn’t scare these people off. They’ll put in whatever energy is needed to complete a project or endeavor. A strong sense of ambition and an excellent sense of focus are traits commonly seen with this placement. They’re quite secure in themselves and exercise self control through all their actions. Discipline motivates them. They take their responsibilities seriously and expect others to do the same. A Capricorn Mars goes above and beyond what is expected of them. They do this through a step-by-step process and practical planning. Cutting corners or taking the easy way out is something you’d never catch them doing. These types want to maintain control over every aspect of their life. They become angry when plans are thrown into a disarray through unexpected events. “Going with the flow,” is not a strong suit of theirs. Their need for security is what motivates them. 

♂ Sagittarius Mars - People with this placement are incredibly restless. They lack patience and need many different outlets to pour their energy into. They are easy going but are also quickly overtaken by passion. Crossing their moral beliefs is a good way to get them riled up. They like to believe that their opinions are more intellectual than they are emotional. When angry they like to get up on a soap box to lecture people. When people don’t agree with them, it can sometimes feel like criticism. They also don’t consider how their tendency to dish out brutal honesty may actually be more hurtful than it is impactful. They often act as a spark that ignites fire, in both a positive and a negative way.

♂ Scorpio Mars - The definition of “moving in silence.” Lots of people claim to do this, but a Scorpio Mars wouldn’t be caught making such a claim. They’re smarter than that. They know that hardship and struggle are inevitable. This does not scare them, but they also don’t fight against the natural currents of life. During certain points, their sense of ambition is so relentless that it becomes obsessive. But, this can only last so long. Rest and recuperation is a process they embrace. After acting on an immense level of concentration for a long period of time, they will need to take a step back to reassess goals. Rather than just accepting things for the way they are, a Scorpio Mars would rather make changes. If they feel that a path is ill-suited for them, they’re not afraid to change directions. Starting from zero is not discouraging and it is something that motivates these types. They have the power to turn nothing into something great. 

♂ Libra Mars - Mars is uncomfortable being in Libra. People with this placement often struggle with taking action and are as indecisive as they come. They get caught up in what's fair and what isn’t. They have a strong need to strike equality and want every situation to be as balanced as possible. Some might be surprised to know that the ultimate desire for these types is to garner a sense of peace. They might unintentionally stir the pot through their inability to take a strong stance on something. They want to weigh all the options possible and can become stressed trying to do so. Being passive-aggressive is also something that's frequently seen with this placement. These types think they’re being nice when in reality they’re making people uncomfortable through their fear of being direct. They’re sneaky when faced with conflict but also good at leading people into a resolution. 

[lilacstro]

shadow work questions for your moon placement 🌙

How to use this post: Hey! I made this post after I had a thought about it in shower. I would be mentioning a few questions you should ask yourself if you have these placements of moon. These are based on my experiences and knowledge of what people with these moon placements often feel like, emotionally. Let me know if you answer these questions and what you feel afterwards. I would love to hear!

support me on ko-fi

Paid readings open!

Moon in 1st house:

★Do I really feel what I present to others? ★Do I really feel in the moment? ★Are my actions a true result/consequence of my feelings? ★When others expect me to care for them automatically, how do I feel? Do I feel needed? or Do I feel used? ★Do I want to say yes/be nice/help someone? Or I do it out of fear of not being "nice" or "kind" and live up to perceptions of other people?

Moon in 2nd house:

★What is my relationship with money? ★Do I control what I believe in or stand-by with full autonomy or do others influence my opinion? Especially my parents, my mother, my friends? ★Do I let my past mistakes still define my self worth? ★Looking at my spending habits, when do I spend the most and least amount of money? What am I feeling in either of these times?

Moon in 3rd house:

★How am I able to relieve my emotions the best? ★When and where do I feel the best and the worst, why? ★Are my heart and my mind in sync? ★Do I process my feelings with my heart or through my brain logic?

Moon in 4th house:

★Am I at ease with the past? ★What do I need to release? Do I need to forgive someone else? Or do I need to forgive myself? ★What happens when I make decisions based entirely of how intense my feelings are? ★Where and when do I feel at home?

Moon in 5th house:

★What are the people and the activities/hobbies that I enjoy the most? ★What is the emotional stimulation I seek in people and things that make me consistent in showing up for them daily? ★What is the emotion that is extremely overwhelming to me? Which hobby or activity that I do can I channel it in?

Moon in 6th house:

★Am I doing something/showing up for someone just for the sake of it? If yes, then what can I do about it? ★Do I force myself through routines and habits? In either cases what do I feel afterwards. ★Does my body feel my emotions? Do I see patterns or connections between my emotional and physical health? ★Do I work for people or things just out of expectation and obligation? Or do I consciously chose that effort?

Moon in 7th house:

★Do I give the same emotional support out that I seek in others? ★What am I seeking in others that I cannot provide myself? ★When is it that I make the deepest relationships? What causes those feelings inside of me? ★What is the emotion/quality in someone that I find extremely attractive and promising? Do I have those values inside me? If no, how can I build it for myself?

Moon in 8th house:

★Do I trust myself? If yes, what is it that makes me trust myself that I can find in others, to be able to build some trust? If no, how can I trust myself? ★How do I deal with overwhelming emotions? What do I need the most at that time? ★What do I tend to over give to others, or that others take from me without my conscious decision? How can I stop that from happening? ★What thoughts of mine are my energy vampires? ★Is there anything that I am carrying as a baggage unconsciously and that I must release?

Moon in 9th house:

★What is something that upsets me incredibly? ★When I see the best in others, do I see the best in myself as well? ★What is something that I feel is too good or too big for me? What can I do to tell myself I deserve it? ★What is my relationship with topics like alternate spirituality, religion etc. ★What is something that makes me want to set boundaries from them, stay away from them? Do I make that effort to separate when I feel these things? or do I not? Why?

Moon in 10th house:

★Do I exercise healthy boundaries with people? ★When do people around me need me the most? Is it genuine? What does it feel like to be asked for help? Good or bad? What is the right thing to do? ★Do how others think of me have an effect on shaping my personality and mannerisms? If yes, then are those actions a reflection of me? or am I wearing a mask? ★Do I show up for myself like I show up for others?

Moon in 11th house:

★Am I seeing the people I love for who they are or am I trying to impose a feeling so that the truth of the relationship does not ends up ending the relationship? ★Do people really see me for who I am? Do I feel seen with the people I consider my closest? ★How do I form relationships and friendships? What is the making and breaking factor? Are my friendships currently a reflection of this? ★Do I remain present effectively? or do I find it happier to stay in the ideal future I imagine? Why?

Moon in 12th house:

★Is it really my responsibility to take accountability for what others must be feeling without them expressing it to me? ★Do I understand myself? Who understands me? How do I like/want to be understood? ★What feels like home and happiness? What brings me joy? ★What is my love language? How do I wish to be seen? Do give and receive affection? ★Do I expect to be understood without consciously speaking what I want? If yes? then is it really valid? would I be able to do that for myself if I was the other person? If no, then how do I really express my needs to myself and others in order to be understood?

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I get a particularly nasty message, I always check to see if they're following me first. Nine times out of ten, they're not. But they're also, unfortunately, the same people who feel entitled to send me multiple messages in a row, most of them heavily steeped in the language of moralization and purity.

Like whenever I talk about painkillers or pain management, I always get a handful of well-meaning people who are maybe new to my blog or are just young, asking me if I've tried diet/exercise/meditation, etc.

Sometimes I'll respond to them. Other times I'll just ignore them because I get those kinds of messages so often it's like white noise, and maybe part of me hopes if they stick around on my blog, they'll learn it through exposure via my incessant bitching.

When you see me responding to someone offering that kind of advice, it's either because I'm at my fucking limit or because I'm hoping it's a teachable moment and an otherwise seemingly nice person might unlearn some harmful biases.

The people who don't follow me are not interested in any kind of conversation on the subject. They do, however, feel the most qualified to tell me, someone they didn't know existed until one of my posts crossed their dash, how to manage my life, everything I'm doing wrong, and why I'm a bad person.

And for them, my disability is proof that I am a bad person because they view health as a moral issue.

If you're sick, it's because you don't exercise enough, don't eat the right foods, don't pray enough, don't do enough. They genuinely believe that if they say and do all the right things, like a Good Person, they'll never get sick.

It's their security blanket against the harsh reality that anyone is one bad day away from disability. One faulty gene, one bad infection, one bad accident away from a life-long diagnosis. And if they do get sick, it's a test. A challenge to be overcome with Willpower as they learn the True Meaning of Life.

It can never just be a simple fact of life that sickness happens. That disability exists without a moral reason.

And it's suffocating.

Day in, day out. Folks who don't know me from fucking Eve telling me I'm being punished. Not always as outright as that. They don't always use that word. But sometimes I appreciate it when they do because at least then they're being honest. They're not couching it in the softer language of leftist circles. Not hiding it behind concern.

Because the truth is, there are just as many folks who think they're liberal and enlightened who'd be happy if disabled people just stopped existing. They don't like thinking about us because it makes them think about themselves. About their own fragility and mortality, and they hate that. They hate that there's something they can't control with their thoughts and actions. That they can't moralize their way out of.

Honestly, it's a relief when people are just cunts about it because I can hit the block button, safe in the knowledge that they were never the kind of person who would see me as a person. But when it's some 20yo kid with their pronouns, orientation, and "ACAB" in their profile spouting the same kind of moralization, sometimes even with the language of eugenics, it feels like such a betrayal. Like a loss.

And perhaps if I wasn't multiply disabled, I'd have the energy to pull them back. To tell them why they're wrong and hope like hell they realize what they're doing is harmful. But then, if I wasn't disabled, they wouldn't be messaging me, so I wouldn't be dealing with it.

I wouldn't be expected to use my existence as a teachable moment to spoon-feed them compassion. But I am, and I do. When I can. Not always with the grace that's warranted. Not always with the thought and compassion I ought to. (And I don't; I acknowledge that. I'm prone to anger and off-the-cuff remarks that are hurtful too. Though I try to keep most of it to myself or save it for therapy.)

Basically, if you've made it this far through the TED talk, don't be fucking cunts to disabled people. Don't tell chronically ill people to try yoga. Don't moralize pain relief. Suffering is not noble.

You need to kill the cop and the priest in your head telling you otherwise.

And also if you're the nice people sending me nice messages. Thank you. It helps cushion all of *gestures* this.

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

THERE'S A CASTLE ON THE HILL, AS THE STORY GOES...

As promised, some initial thoughts on the things I loved about seeing this show. Spoiler free, since most of us haven't gotten to see it yet, and under the cut since I do wax a bit poetic...

Cinderella’s Castle is, in a strange way, an exercise in irony. The show is a retelling of an ancient story that is beloved and recited throughout so many cultures, and yet somehow feels completely fresh. The modern take on glam-punk lighting, a score infused with styles from 80s synth to anime, a high fantasy set with the costumes to match, the spirit of Jim Henson lingering through both the puppets and some larger and intangible vibe, a script combining that Starkid humor and Hatchetfield darkness with a whole different style of speaking… all of these beautifully executed elements melted together into something that I’ve never before seen. To take a tale as old as time and make it unique is no easy feat, but Starkid did so with magic and charm to spare.

Like any good Starkid show, Cinderella’s Castle is relentlessly dynamic: fun and tragic and exciting and just-plain-silly, with many twists and turns and character moments will make you gasp or cheer just as often as you laugh. It simply rollicks. The story clicks right along, especially in act 2, but the characters are so distinct and fun that I found myself almost wishing the Langs had sacrificed their plotting and pace just to spend more time hanging with every single member of this ensemble of personalities.

And that’s also a tribute to the actors themselves. Jeff is David Bowie reborn as the impish and fabulous narrator. Jon and Joey bring Hop A Lot and Crumb to life with so much charm and presence that they practically had the audience eating out of their hands from the very first second. Like, seriously, you will not believe how invested you will immediately become in these talking animals. Kim’s Fairy Queen is as radiant and terrible as promised; her portrayal of immortal inhuman power compels and commands and stands fully distinct from the Lords in Black. Lauren and Mariah are delightfully disgusting as the vile but deeply lovable troll step-sisters; you can feel the fun they’re having practically radiating off of them. Curt’s Tadius is dryly funny and put-upon, but also provides a vitally grounding and centering presence in the larger-than-life world of the Lands That Are. His big scene with Bryce is probably my favorite part of the whole show. James Tolbert is nothing short of an absolute STAR as the Prince, stealing scene after scene after scene with ease and charm and more jokes about genitalia than I think any of us expected. Angela once again displays a completely different facet of her never-ending range, exuding such elegance and control even in trollish filth that I do fear that the kids on the internet are going to start calling her “mother” with greatly increasing frequency. "Facade" was an absolute highlight of the night. And of course Bryce anchors, propels, and heightens every scene she’s in with such apparent ease you forget she’s been rehearsing for weeks and isn’t simply Ella herself. Ella is this world’s bruised, brave, and angry heart, and you will absolutely root for her every step of the way as she wrestles with who she is and learns what it means to claim her own power.

This was Starkid’s biggest budgeted show to date, and you could tell. This group of Michigan Wolverines and friends have accomplished incredible things since the Very Potter days of a single door and some cardboard columns, and I’m so proud of how far they’ve come. And yet Cinderella’s Castle, the fifteenth musical in the fifteenth year, still retains some of that core Starkid magic that I’ve always believed boils down to love. You can so often see that love emanating from the performers on a Starkid stage: love for the show, for their friends, for their craft, for the audience’s energy pushing them through. And the sense of love and support and community radiating from the audience is just as palpable. The man sitting behind me last night was at his first ever Starkid show, and afterwards he remarked in awe how that was the best audience he’d ever been in. And all that love isn’t unearned—it is built and it is nourished by a proud history of creativity, of song and of dance and of laughter and tears. And Cinderella’s Castle, I think, is going to prove an installment worthy of both Starkid’s past and future.

Starkid family, Bogs Hollow grants thee Starlight.

[msmysticfail]

Sun in the houses

✩Sun in the 7th house✩

Sun in the 7th house are generally very well-liked and popular people. A Sun in the 7th house cares a lot about others, as it's in others that they assert themselves. They are people who need to be close to others, whether with their close friends, their family, or their romantic interest.

Because the other person's opinion is so important to them, they can sometimes be shaken by what other people think of them. They are people who are generally always well-groomed and presentable because they like to make a good impression.

In the work environment, they are people who generally have many friends and colleagues and are always aware of all the gossip that is going on. They are pleasant, lighthearted people who generally do not have a fixed opinion about something or someone, but they usually can make friends easily. They don't like arguments, or they try to minimize them as much as possible. They have a good style in general and they love to receive compliments.

I am a reflection of the other person: this may be their unconscious motto. They always want to be accompanied, preferring to go out with someone. Romantic relationships generally have a great importance in their life, since love, affection, romance and the well-being that the other can provide to them are things that are good for the Sun in the 7th house.

✩Sun in the 8th house✩

People with the Sun in the 8th house are profound, you may think you know them, but in reality you only know what they let you know. They are observant people, before acting they observe everything around them, almost always going unnoticed. Because they have this type of nature, these people generally have an arsenal of information about the people around them and, with that, this is where the Sun in the 8th House stands out, as they have a ace up in their sleeves to deal with both their friends and enemies.

This silent observation usually extends to the work environment, where the person generally knows how to influence or even exercise control over their colleagues or subordinates.

People in this house generally go through long periods of emotional retreats, just like the 4th house, however these retreats are focused on oneself, on one's soul. They are constantly changing their emotional and psychic skin, they need to get rid of old emotional baggage and open up to new things, as this house also talks about Scorpio, a sign that governs detachment and symbolic death.

These people tend to act silently in the "dark", as they don't like others knowing what they do or don't do.

With a deep and fixed concentration, when they are interested in something or someone, these people put all their focus on finding out everything about it. For the 8th house, no information is enough, they always want to know more. With great intensity and vitality, they are magnetic people, who know how to attract others, stirring them up.

✩Sun in the 9th house✩

These people take great pleasure in being in contact with knowledge, whether it be expanding their mind and soul through readings, colleges, seminars, or even taking trips that can enhance their spirit. They are people who have a need for questioning, seeking to understand society and the world through large lenses, which is why they often seek religion or greater contact with the divine, through practices such as meditation or yoga.

They love moving around the city where they live, the wider they get to know it, the better, generally they have already seen most of the state they live in. They are people who are generally light, not attached to others or to intense emotions, they generally only cling to what they believe in, as they need a motto to live by.

These people generally exude lightness, always bringing a smile on their face or making a joke to their group of friends. They probably have a travel itinerary programmed somewhere in their mind, because contact with the outside world, something that is greater than what they already know on a daily basis, is very important for a sun in the 9th house.

They are also people who seek justice, since they spend so much time philosophizing about life and the things that surround it. Professions that involve law, travel, other cultures are excellent for them.

✩Sun in the 10th house✩

These people need to feel useful. Their goals, no matter what they are, are very important to them. Because they are at the top of the zodiac wheel, in one way or another these people attract attention, whether at work, at home as a figure that everyone admires, or in their community. The10th house is about the collective, the social, society in general and these people shine for the collective. A Sun in the 10th house has a strong but cold light, in the sense that they have a rational mind, which calculates all strategies before acting on their purpose.

Ambition and focus are the two words that define the people of this house, no matter how hard things may be, this person will move forward with their ambitions, preferring to fail while trying rather than never trying and failing. They are generally very strong people, they can handle more than most people can. These people real enemies are their fear of failure and their arrogance. If they listen to it then they will probably stop presenting themselves to society out of fear of failing, of not being good enough, and if they listen to their arrogance they can and will, over time, lose their brilliant charm, since everyone can clearly see who they truly are, since the 10th house is the highest house and the sun shining here shows everything to everyone.

Romance, friendship, calm and peace can take second or third place, being successful in their life is one of the most important thing for them, no matter the cost.

✩Sun in the 11th house✩

They care about the collective, they are usually people who are volunteering, whatever the cause, they are generally recycling their trash, using sustainable food and clothing. Because they see society as their home, it's very important to them to feel included in it.

They are cool, intelligent, political and critical. You can't change the opinion of a Sun in the 11th house, unless you're smarter than them, but they can change yours. They are people who communicate well, they know how to win people over through their ability to argue and debate.

As this is a cold house, governed by the Air element, they tend not to get attached to emotions or people, as everything tends to flow in this house. They are not really interested in trying to keep someone in their life, unless other aspects say otherwise, they let things come and go freely, and generally expect the same from people, as they hate feeling trapped, contained.

They are people who think a lot about the future, always having a project in mind for 10 or 20 years from now. The interesting thing is that they don't just care about their future only but about the future of the collective as well.

A Sun in the 11th house is liked by many, they're important to people, be it their friends, their online network, their community, etc. They have their tribe but they also moves around others, without necessarily getting attached.

These are people who love to have some connection with electronics, the internet, in general.

✩Sun in the 12th house✩

With a gigantic intuitive capacity, people who have the Sun in this house are generally able to see people's intentions, generally understanding their motives too, even if it's bad. Focused on their emotional and inner life, just like the 4th and 8th house, these people spend more time in their heads than they actually do in the world around them. They are quiet, usually a whole universe of intricate thoughts are going on in their head, so it can seem like these people are not really present. When they are present it's for a short time, as they prefer to be physically present, but mentally absent, generally. When they are present they are observant, preferring to listen, absorbing what the other person has to say, which is why they are great listeners.

They need time alone, it is essential that a Sun in the 12th house finds space to be alone with themselves, or they feel drained and worn out.

In the work environment, unless other aspects indicate, they do not have a very strong presence, preferring to follow orders, not questioning too much. It is vital that these people can transcend the mundane day-to-day life with some solace in the arts, be it music, cinema, literature, etc.

They may suffer from health problems if their body does not obey a certain level of rest and relaxation.

They are artistically gifted, whether they know it or not. Use and abuse the arts, write, dance, free yourself and you will find a precious outlet to deal with your day-to-day life in a more practical and centered way.

[musubi-sama]

Rainy Day Dropoff

How some of our favorite JJK men would handle a little downpour and getting your toddler off to daycare.

A/N: The bike in question is in the header image, a standard mamachari. The kid seat sits over the front forks, they're really easy to ride and control, especially if you have a battery-powered one. I love mine. I also deeply abhor morning drop-off when it's raining. Pickup is fun because puddles and playtime!

WC: 844

The morning drop-off, a routine you and your toddler have down to a science, a well-oiled machine. You leave the house at the same time every day, say “bye bye, papa!” and the two of you toddle over to your mamachari. It’s a nice ride through the neighborhood over to daycare. Peaceful, quiet, a lovely time to teach your child about what they see and listen to their adorable attempts to repeat your words.

But this morning, it’s pouring rain with no signs of stopping. You steel yourself for the wet trip there and back, knowing that despite a rain poncho, a hat, and hood, you always come back giving your best drenched cat impression.

Ah, but your dear husband has heard your grumbling and decided to handle the drop off today.

Nanami Kento - Kento wakes up first and sees the weather. Immediately, he adjusted his morning routine to get both him and your toddler out the door and into both daycare and work successfully and on time. He doesn’t often do drop-offs, but he knows how much you hate going out in the rain. Pulling out his waterproof hiking and rain boots, he sits by the door, and you watch little hands grab the tops of his boots as he tugs them on with exaggerated effort. You help both put their raincoats and helmets on (most adults eschew a helmet, but not your husband!) and see them out the door.

Kento quickly gets everyone situated on the bike under the parking space cover and sets off cautiously. Once at daycare, he sits your toddler on the spacious porch and runs back to zip up the rain cover on the bike seat, ensuring it stays dry for pickup in the afternoon. Luckily, your usually energetic toddler stays put under the overhang instead of bolting off. Dropoff is quick, everyone stays dry, and no accidental wet feet after taking off their boots and storing for the afternoon return trip.

Suguru Geto - Suguru checked the weather in advance and set his alarm slightly early to make sure he could get the bike moved over to a dry spot closer to the front door of the apartment building. Once everyone is out the door, he grabs an extra umbrella to provide extra coverage. Not a drop on either him nor your toddler as he gets them situated in their seat and the rain cover zipped down. He makes sure to draw a little flower in the fog forming on the plastic window. Hitting every puddle just to pull laughs from your toddler along the short journey.

Pulling out the extra umbrella at daycare, again a quick and dry transfer into the daycare. He repeats the routine at pickup and even brings a set of rain pants to let the little one splash around and remain dry before returning home.

Satoru Gojo - Satoru sees the rain and calls Ijichi to drive you and your toddler into daycare. On a normal, dry day he doesn’t mind you biking the kids in. Even though everyone else arrives by car, you insisted that you use your mamachari. It’s a gentle exercise, the view is stunning (especially in the spring while riding along the sakura-lined river), and the two of you strike up adorable conversations about what you each see. But in this weather, you easily relent and hop in the car.

Hiromi Higuruma - Your dear Hiromi has the best of intentions, both in boots, but oops the jacket is forgotten because it’s warm outside. The bike is parked under cover, sure, but there’s a hole in the roof drainage right next to the bike, exactly in the spot he needs to stand in to put your toddler in their seat. While the ride is quick, his poncho hood flies off his head immediately, the wind buffeting you both. And despite his best efforts, he hit a few puddles along the way. At least someone finds them fun.

Once he arrives, he quickly grabs the bag of clothes and daily supplies and reaches into the seat, picking up the almost-2-year-old. As soon as he places them standing on the ground he hears-

“Papa, shoe! Papa, shoe!”

“Shit, ah fuck, I mean, sorry!” failing to control his language knowing that that little toddler brain will absolutely pick up on those words and use it later. He looks down to see a little one-footed hop and a missing boot. Ah ha, it was in the bike seat. Quickly, but not fast enough, he manages to stuff the little, wet, foot back into the boot.

He picks up the bag and toddler and jogs over to the front patio at daycare. Shedding his poncho and punching in the door code, he sits your toddler down to take off boots and socks. And then he notices how wet the front of your toddler’s clothes is. Right, wet poncho. After handing them off to the staff, he just gives a lopsided smile as they look over the wet patches on the toddler, running to see their friends.

[star-anise]

The thing about "parents' rights" and "protect the children [from hearing that other ways of life than ours are possible and okay]" is that it is literally, in the purest sense of the word, patriarchy.

The word literally means "rule by the fathers". We're generally used to hearing it describe how adult women can be dominated by adult men. However, that's not where patriarchy ends; feminists have been less eager to address how within that system, women can exercise power and domination of their own through the traditional gender roles of motherhood. Their maternal rights to power and dominance may have traditionally been lesser than paternal ones, but they were never less than their minor children's. Even single-mother or female-only families can be, in this sense, patriarchal.

Patriarchal families are a complex system that grants parents complete legal and practical control over nearly every aspect of their children's lives. The patriarchal family controls where the child lives, who takes care of them, what rules they have to follow, how they are educated, who they associate with, what healthcare they receive, what religion they practice, and whether they can work or control any money they earn or that is given to or for them.

Normally discussions of patriarchy are a lot more abstract. But right now it's very concrete and real: we are fighting to limit the family's control over children on issues where we can observe that families sometimes tend to make decisions that are bad for the children's welfare or that disrespect their human rights.

Whether a minor child can get an abortion. Whether they can receive gender-affirming care. Whether it's okay to lie or coerce your child to ensure they follow your religion. Whether they deserve to be educated about factual histories or scientific theories that are necessary to understanding the world around them. Whether they deserve to learn accurate, age-appropriate information about consent, setting boundaries, how their bodies and the bodies of other people work, what a normal range of gender and sexual identities look like, what healthy or unhealthy relationships look like, and what sex is, how it works, what its positives and negatives are, and how they might navigate the world, whether or not they ever want to have it.

Hell, on some levels we're still arguing about whether it's okay to hit your kids, or whether children have the right, similar to the rights adults have, not to be assaulted or abused.

Because there are a LOT of people who say: No. Parents should have 100% control over any or all of those issues. If the parent says no, the child is not allowed to do or have any of those things, and nobody else should be allowed to interfere and provide them to the child without their parents' consent.

Pointing this out often results in parents saying, "Oh, so you want just ANYONE to be able to go up and talk sex with kids? You want kids to be able to decide to jump off cliffs with nobody stopping them???" As though parents are the single protective force in the universe, the only thing standing between their child and the ravages of absolute chaos.

On the contrary: most of the time the argument is for children to receive care and guidance from adults who are monitored to ensure they treat children in safe and appropriate ways, who have spent many years studying the best and most rigorously tested of our collective understanding of how to prepare children for happy, healthy lives.

And we are arguing against people who believe that the only important qualification needed to refuse children that kind of care is to be ranked above them in their family hierarchy.

In conclusion...

Fuck the patriarchy. Children have human rights too.

[happilychee]

fairy tail dragon slayer headcanons pt. 1

♡ what the first gen and second gen dragon slayers eat is pretty self-explanatory. all of their elements are... somewhat tangible. sting and rogue though? they're still figuring it out. rogue wonders if he can eat someone else's shadow, and sting immediately volunteers himself. "for science!" he says. the result is that sting almost passes out. oops. he insists they try on their friends, much to rogue's displeasure. the results are that sting is the most susceptible, then yukino, rufus, orga, and minerva is the least susceptible to magic drainage. sting insists rogue tries to eat an inanimate object's shadow, and nothing happens to it, so they decide that's the way to go.

♡ when wendy eats air, the oxygen levels thin. she has to be careful or she'll cause her allies and enemies alike to pass out. when sting eats light, the area gets darker and darker. this is great for rogue, who starts eating the shadows, and they manage to balance each other out.

♡ sting insists that different types of light taste differently. his favorite is light from golden hour, right when the sun is dipping below the horizon. moonlight will do in a pinch, but it's so diluted that it takes way more of it to recover sting's magic. he also gets sick if he eats too much moonlight.

♡ pantherlily already has transformation magic and enhanced strength, and carla learns to transform so she can help wendy fight. the other three exceeds feel... a little left out. happy learns how to fly faster and for longer (though he still complains about lucy being heavy). lector goes to porlyusica and wendy to learn some stamina regeneration spells for sting. everyone is surprised when frosch, completely on their own, manages to learn an adorable light spell that creates floating pink bubbles. rogue can consume the shadows from them without worrying about draining frosch's magic, and he spends the entire afternoon crying about it.

♡ dragon slayers are a bit like crows. their way of bonding with someone is through gifting trinkets. natsu will bring lucy, erza, and even gray pretty rocks or seashells that he's found on jobs. wendy picks up a new craft or hobby every week, so the members of fairy tail are constantly recieving handmade accessories from her (gajeel helps during the metalsmithing phase). gajeel does not buy cute things for people. he is like a dad in the fact that, when juvia mentions she wants watermelon, he buys her 20 watermelons. walking math problem fr.

♡ laxus has mixed feelings about his more draconic features and habits. he's never loved his magic because of the way he got it, and the memory of his father basically torturing him as he inserted the lacrima will stay with him forever. he tends to suppress dragon instincts more than anyone else in the group, and they all scold him for it. on a rare occasion, laxus will give in and buy something shiny (like a hairclip) for wendy. she has a little jewelry box for them that she guards fiercely.

♡ cobra considers himself more of a flying snake than a dragon. he once drew a picture that sent everyone into a laughing fit. he prefers to stick with the old oración seis crew, but the guild dragon slayers are always happy to see him when he stops by with crime sorcière.

♡ sting, because of his heightened senses and his affinity for light, prefers nighttime. the day can often be overwhelming, and overexposure to bright settings and lots of people leaves his skin buzzing. he likes to sit in the dim guild hall, leaning against the cool stone wall, as the chatter of the crowd quiets down with the setting sun.

♡ dragon slayers all have the Bite instinct. some exercise a degree of control about it, and others go crazy with it. wendy will very gently nibble on erza or mira's arm when she's in the mood, and sometimes she does it absentmindedly. natsu, on the other hand, is an absolute menace. multiple of erza's armor sets have natsu-shaped bite marks on them. he tends to go after her the most because he knows he won't hurt her with the armor. when natsu's more calmed down, he will chomp on lucy's shoulder. gajaeel copes by eating all of fairy tail's silverware (mira starts buying ceramic spoons), but when levy offers her wrist to him he can't help it.

♡ rogue is another one who doesn't really bite people. he, very rarely, nips at frosch's ears, which causes the exceed to giggle. sting is a Biter like natsu, but with slightly more decorum. he really wants to go at it but will restrain himself because most people aren't willing to be treated like a chew toy. luckily for him, gray and cana aren't most people! because they both wear pretty exposing clothing, gray and cana have no qualms about showing off sting's bite marks on their skin. sting always turns bright red when they tease him about it.

♡ laxus and cobra don't really feel the Bite instinct due to being second gen, but cobra is a little shit and bites people for the fun of it. laxus is completely unbothered when natsu clings to him like a koala and gnaws at him.

[star1ight0]

Tenya Iida x Reader "Hi".. "High."

I have unhealthy coping mechanisms and crave comfort. So here we are. Yet again. As always requests are open and be mindful and respectful when making them

TW: CBD, insomnia, prescription meds

Help is always available call 988 if you are in an immediate crisis. You are not alone and there are people who care.

Your quirk allows you to analyze any given situation finding the most likely outcome along with alternatives of how it could play out, it gets harder to control the longer it's used, longer usage makes it inaccurate. Also make you glow, like a colored aura off of you.

Tenya being both your class rep and your boyfriend was a strange combination at times. He was never one to let you off the hook just because you were his partner but every so often so long as it wasn't that big of a deal he'd left a few things slide so long as it didn't affect you school work. His kindness had its limits and the line became ever so more clear when you began sleeping through classes and skipping over training sessions. He expressed his worries which you quickly brushed off.

Walking over your lock box you grabbed your medicine and weed off your desk and putting your phone on DND and into your pocket, you made your way to the rooftop of the dorms. You could feel the overwhelmingness of the thoughts you pushed away, pull their way to the front of your mind. You could feel your body glow and your head spin.

Placing a pill in your mouth swallowing it followed by an inhale of your pen. You felt the glow lighten and your chest fell into a more steady rhythm. You stayed outside for a few hours a mix of breathing exercises and weed along with long with star gazing. Just as almost all of the worry left the glow of your quirk fading the door opened. You shot up looking behind you exhaling and couching, it was Tenya.

"What are you doing." He said walking towards you trying to take your lifeline away. "Back off " you spat pulling your arm away. You felt your mind race and breathing quicken. You placed the pen between your lips inhaling, before feeling a hand over your mouth. "Tenya please stop" you said, your voice small. You felt your quirk take hold making your head pound with thoughts. "Talk to me love, what's going on? I- i know I might not be the ideal person but I'm still your boyfriend"

He placed himself behind you on the rooftop pulling you onto him. "Please love, talk to me" you felt all the worry in his voice and it only made your mind race more. You felt your breathing become erratic and your chest felt heavy. "Breathe, in.. hold.. out" he must have spent 20 minutes guiding your breathing before you felt your eyes got heavy and the world around you darkened. "Don't let go"

When you woke up you were in your dorm Tenya next to you still asleep. The memories of the previous night came back and you felt your cheeks get warm. You snuggled your way into his arms putting your face in his chest as he slowly woke up wrapping his arms around you. "talk to me, please"

And for some reason that was your breaking point. It sent into a sobbing mess confiding in him about everything, and how the only thing that seemed to help calm your mind wasn't just your medicine anymore. He sat and listened the whole time keeping his gaze on you even as yours fell, trying to avoid his eyes. Still a sobbing shaking mess your body started to glow and your chest tightened once more. This time Tenya cupped your face in his hands kissing your forehead. After a few minutes he managed to calm you down the glow of your quirk slowly fading. "Talk to me when things get like this, please. You're never a bother to me my love" he said his voice was soft and full of care and love. He convinced you to give up what little weed you had left under the condition you went to your doctor for a different prescription.

This was short I'm lazy and overwhelmed so sorry

[csmiclxtte]

Solar Return Observation (Mars Edition)

Early Degree Mars (0°~1°) can show that you strive for independence. You may have difficulty in directing your energy, which may lead to feeling of frustration, anger, and restlessness. Pay attention to the sign and placement. See if any people close to you have natal Mars in the same sign, because they may be the subject of your frustration too. They might do nothing wrong and being their usual self and yet it still irks you. House placement also cues to what you seek independence from e.g. home (4H), daily life, work, coworker (6H), friendship (11H).

Mars in Aries you want to get moving, channeling your inner energy through physical activity. You may feel pumped and eager to take opportunities. Exercises could help you to ease your mind. Staying active. You may pay attention more to your physique. You may be more confrontative, even if you are naturally not like that. I personally love this placement lol. This is the time when you stop giving a f to anyone and just go with your guts, what makes you feel good, what feels right to you. It's just an easier energy to move with, because Mars is in domicile.

Mars in Taurus is slow-progressing. Whichever house it's sitting in, you may feel like you're not making significant progress on that specific area e.g. slow progress in work (6H), dreams feel like it's faraway or impossible (11H). Achievement does not come instantly. Overall very slow, taking progress step by step. It may feel exhausting especially for mutable dominants.

Mars in 4H during this time, I spent most of my time at home. However, there is a restlessness of wanting to do more. Family may be your main motivation of taking actions. The closer Mars is to IC, it may pushes you more to move and progress away from your roots/house/home. All because you want to be more independent. Fights and arguments in family are possible, but understand that you can react differently from what you used to do in the past.

Mars conjunct Neptune can be times when one pour their energy to achieve their dreams. House placement often gives the theme (e.g. college/study for 9H, career or job for 10H). You can almost create everything in your dream to come true. From what I notice however, this aspect has a possibility to be short-lived. One moment you can "achieve" what you want, or there is a sense of achievement, but without careful planning such situation may not thrive. There may be a lot of confusions and crossroads. Your action may be taken differently by others, prone to be misunderstood.

Mars conjunct Chiron is actually not as bad as I originally thought. Maybe it also depends on the sign, but I found this aspect to quickly progress your healing era forward. You will face the wounds you had, whether you want to or not. Mars doesn't wait until you're ready. It would push you to take action and do something about your wound situation. It can be a messy aspect, of course. Not as enjoyable. Emotional outbursts is very possible. However, looking back to that time, I feel grateful because it kickstarted the journey in consciously managing wounds, and dealing with unpleasant things. Also signifies a lesson in handling your anger more efficiently.

Mars coniunct Mercury your mind is sharp, quick to process and to store information. You are decisive, assertive, even confident. Your mind is very capable, can solve problems easily. However be careful not to hurt people because of your words. You may feel lack of control/filter with your words, saying stuff you dont mean, or the word you want to say came off more aggressive than you originally intended. I'd say this is a good indication of good grades as well, because of heightened focus and mental capability.

Thank you for reading

[arc-misadventures]

Burdens of an Unwanted Legacy

"So, why are you dragging me to the training halls, Raven?

"Because I wanted you to practice on your swordsmanship."

"I'd assume as much, but if you wanted me to do some training, then where is your blade, Raven?"

While, Jaune may be dressed in his exercise clothes, he was still armed with, Crocea Mors upon his hip. And, while, Raven may have also been dressed in simple exercise attire as well, her dreaded blade, Omen was nowhere to be seen.

"Ahh, well you're not going to be practicing with me today. No, we have a special guest here today. So, I thought it would be good if you got some time to practice your blade with someone else."

"Hmmm... that is a viable reasoning."

"Plus her beating you up a bit would be a good way to relieve some tension..."

"And, there it is... typical" Jaune had earned the moniker of, 'Punching Bag' by his fellow students, and teachers on account of his high, Aura reserves. This resulted in him having to fight many of his peers for extended periods of time for several reasons.

Those reasonings being endurance training, to testing the limits of an individuals semblance; This either being the impacts that this semblance would have on an individual, or the extent of possible damages one could expect to impact if ones semblance was allowed to extend to it's maximum capabilities.

While, Jaune could understand the reasoning behind such practices, and even encouraged many aspiring trainee to unleash the full effects of their semblances on him, It did not mean he enjoyed it.

"Haa... Am I testing someone's semblance, or am I really just the punching bag for them today."

"Don't worry, they won't be using their semblance. Just some honest training bouts with a sword to relieve some accumulating stress they've been dealing with lately."

"Stress? I take it that this isn't something that our usual meditation lessons couldn't deal with then?"

As a means to help, Spartans combat the, Grimm; Spartan Trainee's were sent through several rigorous training regimens to strengthen their mental fortitude, and more often learn to control their emotions. Often leading to many, Spartans to be seen as emotionless killing machines by the common folk.

"Uhh... no. It's civilian related." Raven visibly winced as she spoke the word: Civilian. Bar dealing with, Tai, Raven didn't have much patience when it comes to dealing with civilians.

In fact: Most, Spartans didn't like dealing with civilians so much so, that before trainee's became, Spartan's they were placed in new mental fortitude class. A class solely meant to help dealing with civilian antics, and behavior. Honestly, Jaune along with many other, Spartans didn't think that these classes were all that effective. Necessary yes, effective no so much.

"I take it that the punching bag method didn't help them?" The punching bag method was relatively simple stress relief: Get a photo of the civilians face who has been giving you shit, put it on a punching bag, and beat the ever loving shit out of it.

Many civilians found this method to be a totally barbaric practice, and that should be done away with imminently. Something that the high ranking, Spartan officers made fully well know that they fully supported this incentives. However, this was merely lip service that the higher ups gave to the civilian officials who made the complaints about it. Considering, Jaune had seen the faces of those same civilian officials on multiple punching bags before, and that his commanding officers themselves were the ones to ripe them to shreds.

"No. She's been dealing with too much stress because of this particular civilian. It's more likely that she'd turn the civilian into a punching bag at this rate." Raven chuckled nervously as they entered the training hall.

"She? Who is this, Spartan I'll be sparing with then?"

"Well..." Raven pointed her hand outward, and Jaune knew fully well who she was having him spar with today. This lady didn't need to introduce herself, Jaune knew fully well who he was dealing with the second he saw that silver white hair. And, upon seeing her, silver white hair, Jaune gave the only appropriate response anyone could fathomably conceive.

"Ahh... shit."

Among the, Spartans everyone knew who the lady with the hair as white as snow was. She was a rarity among rarities. For she was, Winter Schnee, S Rank, Spartan.

A Spartans overall end rank was determined by an individuals level skill, Aura levels, and the combat applicability of their unique individual semblance in combat scenarios. A circumstance with begged the question; if an individual, Spartan that had truly impressive levels of, Aura, and a truly effective combat applicable semblance. Would there rank stop at, A Class?

This question, and rare existence swiftly lead to the creation of the seventh rank that only a rare, and selected few, Spartans could dream to acquire. Given to those only with both vast aura reserves, and especially powerful semblances.

S Class.

The numbers of, Spartans who had reached the rank of, S Class were enough to be counted on one hand. Because of their rarity they had unprecedented influence both within, and outside the, Spartan Academies.

Influence that many unscrupulous characters from the outside of the, Academies often wished to capitalize on.

"Winter Schnee... Are you trying to get me killed, Raven?!"

"Yes." A smirked rose across her face, as Jaune recoiled in fake shock at the teasing remarks of his friend, and mentor.

"What did I do to deserve this?!" He feigned mock shock at her playful accusation.

"You forced me to reconnect with my past lover!" Raven lean down, and leered down at the young man.

"And, what is wrong with that?"

"Nothing, it's nice to reconnect with him. I'm meeting him, and his wife for dinner this weekend." Raven, straightened her back, and looked away from him, trying to hid the faint blush across her face.

"Oh, Tai got married? I wonder how that came about."

"I don't know, I'll ask them when I see them this weekend, and I'll let you know."

"Thank you. Did you catch her name by any chance?"

"I think her name was... Summer Rose? Yeah, Summer Rose." It took, Raven a moment to catch the name that was caught on the tip of her tongue. But, as she said it, Jaune couldn't help, but raise an inquisitive eyebrow as he heard that name.

"Rose? Hmmm... do you think she has any relation to that gun nut in the armoury?"

Raven's eyes blinked in contemplation as she heard the mention of, Beacon Academy's resident gun nut armourer.

"Hmmm... Maybe... why don't we ask...?"

"Hey!"

The duos musing was interrupted as they saw the, S Class Spartan, Winter Schnee walk towards them.

"Hey, Raven."

"Winter..." The duo clasped their hands together in a greeting before breaking apart. "Sorry, I didn't call out to you sooner; my friend, and i were lost in our own discussion."

"That is alright. So, is this my sparring partner?" Winter turned to face, Jaune. She gave him the once over, no doubt evaluating him. Jaune gazed at her in turn, evaluating her in the process.

Jaune knew full well how effective of a warrior every, S Class Spartan was. He knew full, and well how effective of a warrior, Winter Schnee was. He knew fully well, and good that if they fought in a duel with, and Winter was using her semblance, she would wipe the floor with him. Without her semblance though, he'd give himself a thirty five out of a hundred to win.

"B Class Spartan, Jaune Arc, Sir!" Jaune threw up a salute to the woman out of respect, she quickly returned the salute in kind.

"B Class? You look rather young for a, B Class."

"I have higher then average levels of, Aura. Because of that, they made me a, B Class when I graduated." Jaune had been asked this question many times before, his ranking often made sense to his fellow, Spartans. But, his experience's when it came to his rank, and aura levels when it came to dealing with civilians was often unpleasant.

"Ahh, I had a similar experience; I was promoted to A Class when I graduated because of my semblance's capabilities."

"A Class? Seems a bit too fast to graduate from a trainee to an, A Class Spartan in my opinion." Winter nodded her head as she agreed with his statement before she continued her story.

"I agree, but due to my semblances unique abilities, and some... backroom politics I was promoted to, A Class. However, I never acted like I was an, A Class until I had a few more years of experience under my belt."

"I understand that, I'm still acting like I'm a, C Class myself. I've only been a, B Class for little over a year now. I still don't feel like one yet. Now then, enough small talk; You asked for a duel with the 'Punching Bag.' Shall we begin?"

"The punching bag? I thought you said I would be fighting a person, Raven, not an actual punching bag." Winter looked at, Raven, her brow furrowed in disappointment. Raven shook her head, as she waved the idea away.

"No no no. 'The Punching Bag,' not a punching bag."

"Hmm?"

"Jaune's, Aura is so vast that he is often used to help trainee's test the limits of their individuals semblance's. Because of this he earned the moniker of, 'The Punching Bag' around, Beacon Academy."

"Oh... my condolences." Jaune took, Winter's words in, and just waved them off.

"Think nothing of it. Considering the effects of many trainee's semblances, it is better if they could test their semblance in an controlled environment against an individual who can withstand their attacks."

"Hmmm..." Winter cupped her chin in thought as she registered his words. "That is sound logic. I could have used someone like that whilst I was training with my semblance."

"Hey, just because I think it's a good idea to train with people to help control their semblance's doesn't mean I like it!"

"Oh? But, it sounds so fun to toss you around with my semblance." Winter gave, Jaune challenging smirk that caused him to growl at her in turn.

"So you want to play then? Okay then..." Jaune walk out into the middle of the training hall, and pulled out his sword, and shield. He pointed his blade at her as he issued his challenge to her, that she was all too willing to reciprocate in kind. "Care to dance miss?"

"With pleasure~!"

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Okay so I've got this weird question (fun to ponder tho)

How do you think Rafal would react if Sophie slapped him?!

(Both the prequel Rafal and the TLEA Rafal.)

And perhaps the prequel Rhian too. Although I'm mainly curious about Rafal (since he has more of a connection with Sophie, I think.)

Ahaha! This is absolutely a fun one on this very fine day, Anon. Here goes—

Because prequel Rafal most likely wouldn't have a connection to, a care in the world about, or any feelings toward Sophie, she could just be another student to him. And if she slapped him, a blatant show of disrespect to her School Master, I think his first impulse would be to send her to the Doom Room, or to react explosively, retaliating with sorcery. Maybe, he'd slam her to the wall. We've seen that happen with the pirates and he has a short fuse.

If he stopped to think about why she'd slap him, if he were in a more tolerant state of mind, say, as Fala in his disguise, he might be able to reevaluate whatever he said to her to have earned that slap. (Probably, he would have said something about how she's worthless as an unconventional, Everish, and superficial Never, who only cares about appearances, who is a disgrace to her side because she wants to find True Love, and who'd never amount to anything, I'd imagine.)

And, maybe, just maybe, she'd actually break through the ice with the slap, or by following it with some critical yet truthful jab about him, thereby reaching his humanity and inspiring some self-reflection on his part.

Yet, I do not believe Sophie reaching him or succeeding in cuing him into recognizing his flaws would be the most likely outcome. I'm not sure what other fault-finding he'd do with her, and we know he just loves disproportionate retribution, which is why I'm most inclined to say: torture it is.

⸻

TLEA "Rafal" is the more uncertain answer.

He does have feelings for her and has exhibited sadistic and masochistic traits. (Remember the moment when they kissed after Sophie returned? He seemed to actually enjoy his bleeding lip for some reason.)

So, this may seem controversial, but he might redden and could potentially feel aroused and/or disoriented/dazed and be unable to react, frozen in place, considering that she opposed his authority, and that he hasn't been contradicted by anyone in about 200 years.

Besides, regardless of whichever of these would occur, I don't think he'd be able to keep a clear head in this particular instance.

If that aroused thought process happened, I think he would try not to lose his cool or get flustered, and would flee the scene abruptly, leaving Sophie to wonder how he took the slap (and unfortunately, worry for her life and what could possibly be in store for her, if he came back).

I'm not sure if her slapping him (probably due to his daily proposal ritual, him telling her to address him as "Master," or something equally controlling and irritating to her) would change their power dynamic. But that possibility does exist.

If their dynamic changed, maybe he would yield to her more often than he already did in canon, or could involve her in more major wartime decisions because slapping him definitely would've exhibited even more of her force of will and agency to him.

If their dynamic went in the opposite direction, he might become paranoid that she lifted a hand against him at all, and try to monitor her more than he already did, exercising his authority over her more oppressively.

Another fairly realistic option would be their having a verbal argument or a shouting match. But, it could be one-sided, if Rafal just decided to endure some kind of berating from her.

He might just allow her to get away with yelling at him while he either defends himself, calmly, maintaining his composure without yelling. Or, he could take everything in stride, or at least silently, and listen to her, seemingly unperturbed or perhaps, wincing the whole time at her sharp tongue? Internally, he could be very pained by all the horrible, hurtful things she's saying, that he would probably deserve. Another route is that he could, strategically, agree with her and yield to her, to regain her favor, but that could be too transparent of him.

Eventually, Sophie would run out of fuel for her vituperative fire and halt her tirade against him, and she might be a little remorseful or blush, but he'd let it slide because it's her. And he needs her.

He'd probably accept any apology, half-apology, blame-shifting, or non-apology from her, just to stay on her good side. And if he were able to swallow his pride, he could give his own speech as he's wont to do, appear to understand and even empathize with her societally-oppressed, downtrodden Evil soul and heart, and apologize himself, like any good Evil "activist" would.

(Personally, I like to interpret TLEA Rafal as The Ultimate Evil Activist™. So, er, take that however you want.)

I think he'd hold himself back from violence against her if it crossed his mind because he probably has the self-control to know that aggression would only worsen his chances with her, no matter what satisfaction it could bring him in the short term.

Alternatively, he could seize her and initiate a kiss against the wall in the same forceful way Sophie did to him once.

If not that, shock is another option I can go back to. He knew, to an extent, that she viewed him as "all-powerful" even though he wasn't. Maybe, he'd be impressed by how brazen she was to slap him at all. He'd never admit that to her, I think, but he'd probably glow inside about the fact that he's (why not credit himself?!) influenced her enough (ahem, provoked her enough) to become more violent, even if it backfired against him. Plus, he could harness that violence of hers during the upcoming war and redirect, train, refine it, towards a more productive cause. Their victory. Because, that violence is also an indicator that his plan for her to embrace Evil wholeheartedly is succeeding, even if his parallel plan to court her is simultaneously failing. (Picture mental fist-pumping, like: yes, yes, yes, basically.)

So, there's a chance he'd remain expressionless. However, he could display shock on his face if he weren't able to control his emotions, or he could grin like a pathetic, love-sloshed idiot, much to her disdain or ire at not being taken seriously.

Whether or not he'd recognize and agree that he was in the wrong due to whatever he'd done to earn himself the slap, he could also try to make it up to her, whether his apology is sincere or not. I'm sure that in either case, he'd resort to personally bringing her (or materializing from afar) more and more opulent gifts—because, what more does he know about her that he could use to his advantage? Not a lot, to be fair.

Maybe, the gifts would appease her while he temporarily stays out of her sight, so she doesn't get mad at him again?

The least likely scenario, in my opinion, would occur if he truly didn't know whether slapping were a thing that "normal young people" did while "dating," and he took the slap as a sign of things going regularly, if not badly.

To be fair, he's watched Ever courtships for years (and he surely must've observed Agatha punch Tedros in the eye over the Gargoyle debacle), but this is Evil's Love—something unheard of, something never before seen. Should it be held to new standards? If so, what standards? What should he expect? What should he set, if the standards are up to him to determine? Should he really hope to imitate the Evers' love on every front? He's had zero successful past relationships, so how could he know?

If this happened, I bet he'd obsess over the meaning of Sophie's slap.

He might have to process it and puzzle over what exactly went wrong for days before he returned to set things right with Sophie. And if he did that, he'd potentially inadvertently abandon her in the tower for those several days, leaving her to wonder if she's going to starve there as her punishment, or die from "the plague," assuming he forgot about everything else and his obsession took hold of him.

(And leaving her alone could be a strategy itself, whether intentional or not, so she would begin to crave his presence again.)

This would also mean, he'd have deal with far more external complications because the assumption that he'd desert Sophie for a short period, the way he did to Rhian for six months in the prequels, would mean he'd also desert his war-training responsibilities, leaving the Old and New students to fend for themselves, and perhaps, to devolve into anarchy—if he's not quick enough to return, provided that his Deans failed to maintain order and discipline during his absence. In fact, I could see Aric actively undermining Lady Lesso's efforts, and encouraging vicious hallway brawls and overall barbarity with Rafal gone.

Also, his love was never "enough" for his brother in the past—that could easily spiral into self-doubt, even if his ego would protect against it. Then again, he's likely more sensitive to rejection if it's from her specifically since he actually values her opinions of him. I feel like he'd just brood in the no-longer-Blue Forest, sit there and do nothing but cycle that thought around and around, because, his plan, his plan that he's had for 200 years, his last hope, is currently falling through all around him, all due to one slap, and what if that means all hope is lost!? All that work for nothing. A terrifying prospect. What then? He'll have nothing if he doesn't have Sophie by his side.

I think he'd know better than to think that so quickly though. Dramatizing things just entertains me.

⸻

Now for Rhian.

Rise Rhian could easily say something about the inferiority of Evil, and that could've insulted Sophie indirectly because I don't believe he would, while still Good, stoop to insulting her directly.

He'd probably just assign her a benign punishment, like dishwashing duties, or confine her to her dorm, given that she is a student and technically one of his wards, even if she's a Never because in this case, she acted against him, not the Evil School Master. So, perhaps, it wouldn't turn out like it did in book 1 with Lady Lesso. If he had no jurisdiction over the Nevers though, the punishment could be the Doom Room, if the decision fell to Rafal. And Rafal would not give a student preferential treatment if they slapped his brother!

Now, if Rhian were sympathetic enough to Sophie and her ongoing suffering in Rafal's School, he could cover the incident up and spare her. Let's face it: while Good, he seems like the lenient, bleeding-heart sort. Maybe, to him, it'd be the right thing to do because she seems kind of fragile and vulnerable. And she's Everish, which could appeal to him emotionally.

Then again, Rise Rhian has poor judgment, so maybe he'd stall and overthink deciding on any course of action, and wouldn't know what to do with her. He might not even feel like he could bring himself to discipline her, and might just continually obsess over it, as the indecision eats away at him. And, in the moment, maybe, he'd just flush red and tear up a little because she's been so cruel to him!

Fall Rhian, on the other hand, would probably insult her and do it so scathingly well. If she slapped him... she'd probably be a dead girl walking at that point. Could he incinerate her? Very possibly.

Midway through Fall, Rhian might just assign her a demanding punishment or task, really, of the same nature (and severity?) as Midas'.

⸻

And that is all I have for now. If there are any outcomes I haven't thought of, feel free to tell me what you think!

[nova-amor]

༘☁︎⋆ ◜ 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐬𝐞 ◞

miguel o’hara was not the type of man to lose his cool easily — he spent plenty of time with his therapist to ensure that he kept his temper in check. he dedicated hours to practicing different techniques and exercises to keep his temper at a minimum, ranging from controlled breathing exercises to working out for hours on end.

he needed to maintain a leveled head as the leader of the spider society; after all, he spent most hours along side some of the most annoying people across the multiverse so it was vital for his sanity and everyone’s safety that he kept his mouth shut and his hands to himself.

the only one that could truly push his buttons was none other than you— his beautiful, compassionate, loving wife. after years together, you had learned which words and actions would push miguel over the edge and you often used that knowledge to your benefit.

miguel ran his hands down his cheeks, mental fatigue weighing down his patience as you rambled about some house chore that miguel was supposed to have completed a few days ago. he had just returned from another mission across the multiverse, his muscles aching and mind too tired to form a proper response to the one-sided argument.

he leaned back in his chair, propoing his elbow atop the dining table and resting his chin on his fist as he watched you pace back and forth. surely burning a hole into the carpet beneath your feet from how long you had been pacing. hands flailing around as your words went through one of his ears and out the other.

“would you shut up?” miguel interrupted your rant, his tone cool and lazy. his brown eyes narrowed, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips as he watched an expression of shock paint across your face.

“what did you just say?” you questioned, hands finding their rightful place on your hips. you were completely taken aback— miguel rarely shut you down, let alone told you to shut up.

“you heard me, hermosa,” the dark pupils of miguel’s eyes widened, his face darkening as he sensed a challenge beginning to brew between the two of you. “shut up before i put that mouth to better use.”

it didn’t take much after that for you to end up on your knees, mouth stuffed full with the thick girth of miguel’s cock. tears brimmed the edges of your eyes, a thin mixture of saliva and pre-cum staining your chin as miguel buried his cock into the depths of your throat. the harsh carpet dug into the skin of your knees, your jaw burning and scalp throbbing from how fast and hard miguel was fucking your mouth.

he hissed at the sensation of your throat clenching around his cock’s head, the vibrations of your gag coaxing him to fuck your mouth even harder. he glared down at you, the black of his pupils completely drowning out the chocolate brown hues of his irises.

“told you to shut up, nena, and per usual, you— didn’t— fuckin’— listen—” he growled, your moans around his cock sending a shiver down his spine. he fisted the back of your head, the tips of his talons digging into your scalp just enough to keep you from squirming away. a reminder that he was the one in control of this situation.

“mean girls like you are good for nothing but sucking cocks, right? you’re probably fuckin’ soaking right now from this, gettin’ off on me fucking this good-for-nothing throat,” miguel’s trimmed pubic hairs ticked your nose, his hips starting to stutter as his thrusts grew more sloppy and frantic. he was so fuckin’ close, his nerves tingling as he sat on the edge off his release. “you’re fuckin’ enjoying this, eh? such a dirty girl.”

miguel shoved you away from a rough nudge, glowering at you as he fisted his cock. you watched in anticipation— eyes wide, mouth watering at the sight of miguel pleasuring himself so close to your face.

“close your eyes and stick out that tongue,” his voice was raspy, inching his cock closer to your lips. you obediently followed his orders, the heat between your thighs growing stronger. and then, with just a grunted ‘mierda’ as a warning— white, hot, sticky ropes of cum painted your face, his breaths heavy and labored as his orgasm knocked the very air out from his lung.

you instinctively went to wipe your eyes, swallowing remnants of the cum that stained your tongue. “don’t be wasteful and wipe it off,” miguel hissed, grasping at your wrist with a tight hold. “now be a good girl and bend over the table, i’m not done with you.”

[ramjam]

Hi... long time no NnT-Analysis.

I want to talk about Lancelot and Tristan's dynamic. I'll be putting it under a read-more so I don't spam your dashboard.

First, let's take a look at their designs.

Tristan's Signature Color: Blue-ish Teal

Lancelot's Signature Color: Pink-ish Red

According to color theory, these two colors complement one another. Nakaba utilizes complementary colors quite often in his designs. You'll notice this in many of the most important pairs. It's a visual way to emphasize the connection between two people.

The use of complementary colors goes as far as Lancelot's Sin disguise. When he takes that form, he wears a teal collar... Just like how Tristan wears a collar with Lancelot's red.

Both of them also got their hair colors from their mother, while the style is more similar to their fathers. They have what has been described as a "feminine" appearance. Lancelot is incredibly bothered by this, to the extent he tries really hard to present as masculine. Tristan on the other hand doesn't seem to be bothered by it himself.

Their first volume covers also mirror one another.

Their namesakes are pulled from Arthurian mythos. In some of the original stories, Lancelot and Tristan do act similarly as friends who are "two sides of the same coin" in a way. Fated companions who counter one another.

Going into actual plot stuff now. The way their stories are intertwined, the particular tropes their relationship embodies, and why it's important.

The growth of both of their characters is often explored through their connection. For example, Lancelot first learned to read hearts while dueling Tristan.

Ban references the moment Lancelot received his scar here. Tristan was so excited while dueling his friend, that he lost control of himself. The heightened emotions awakened the dark magic in him that he inherited from his father. Tristan blacked out, striking Lancelot.

This was a significant moment for both of them. Tristan and Lancelot both experienced an "awakening" here, which set them down their respective paths and cemented their bond.

Lancelot is quite literally marked by him. With this scar, there will always be apart of him that is irreversible tied to his relationship with Tristan.

Additionally, the fact Tristan had hurt and permanently scarred Lancelot is what triggered Tristan's anxiety about fighting. It affected him so deeply that he began to fear combat, instead wanting to pursue a path of healing. So that it would never happen again.

The bulk of this film takes place when they're both 14. Which is a few years after Lancelot initially went missing. He felt the need to hide his identity, but even in his disguise, he wanted to somehow push Tristan to his peak performance.

This illustrates how Lancelot never once viewed him as a threat. Tristan isn't a monster to him... He wants to see him exercise the strength that Tristan is so terrified of.

(I wish this site had CC, but Lancelot wolf-whistles at him before this line...)

Lancelot knows Tristan well enough to be aware that these fears would hold him back in combat. He takes action when they fight together, pushing and prodding him until he is forced to conquer that fear and act.

Tristan's hesitancy comes from his care for Lancelot. He's terrified at the thought of ever hurting him-- or anyone-- again. Lancelot sees this differently. He views Tristan's attitude as if he's viewing Lancelot as someone weak who needs protection. He has faith in Tristan's strength and never doubts him. But that faith only makes things more complicated when Tristan avoids facing him. Lancelot knows he's capable and he wants to be his equal in that regard.

Earlier, I referenced Ban's comment in the one-shot where he wonders if Lancelot's behavior at that time had to do with this duel. There's an implication that part of why Lancelot felt so restless and inadequate had to do with Tristan's rejection. This was worsened by the fact that Lancelot had learned to read hearts, so he could see what Tristan must've been thinking in that moment. Tristan's concern doesn't come from viewing Lancelot as weak, but that's how Lancelot interpreted his heart and his words.

Between that and being babied by his parents, he lashed out and ran away to "prove himself." Which is how he went missing to begin with.

He didn't want to stop like Tristan did. He wanted to keep going. Tristan's strength motivated him, but Tristan didn't return those feelings because of his own self-loathing.

In the end, Lancelot is the one who convinces Tristan to embrace his power. He vowed to be there to stop Tristan in case things ever go too far.

Lancelot reads Tristan's heart in this moment and smiles to himself.

Lancelot's love for his friend manifests through his desire to propel Tristan to his peak potential. Through Lancelot's affection, Tristan changes forever. His pure faith in Lancelot and his intentions was all he needed to conquer his fears. To him, he doesn't need to be worried about losing himself, because he has Lancelot.

Many years pass since this moment, but Tristan still views Lancelot as that anchor he needs by his side. Tristan's control over his power has grown significantly, but he still fears using it without Lancelot by his side.

Something interesting about their dynamic in the present day is the way the dynamic has flipped. While Tristan respects Lancelot's power, now he is the one feeling weak in comparison. This is also a testament to the strength of their bond. While Tristan feels they're no longer "equal", it doesn't drive a wedge in their relationship. He isn't resentful or jealous, it doesn't push him away from Lancelot. Their bond is too strong for that.

Not to mention, what seems to bother him more than anything else is the fact that Lancelot won't discuss how he gained this new power. He's bothered by the way his friend vanished without a word for so long, and now refuses to talk about what happened.

Regardless, this just means that Tristan trusts Lancelot's abilities without question. The moment he arrives, Tristan believes so strongly in his ability to win above anyone else. If anyone can defeat the King of Camelot, it will be his closest companion.

Circling back to Lancelot being his anchor: This is pretty common in fantasy Shounen. Leading characters who possess dark magic often have a partner who they rely on to bring them back down, or stop them from going too far and losing themself. However, you usually see it between the leading male main character and the female secondary protagonist... In fact, this is the exact dynamic Meliodas and Elizabeth had with each other in the original manga.

This dynamic came up frequently whenever Meliodas went full-demon mode. But this page from the Holy War arc in particular really reminds me of Lancelot's line where he says he'll "beat Tristan into the dirt if he has to."

Considering these two are Tristan's parents, you'd think the parallel with Tristan would be between him and Isolde, or something. But it's not. It's with Lancelot.

Their chemistry is so natural. They spend some time apart, but nothing really changes. The play off of each other so easily and understand each other so deeply.

Lancelot teases him for a lot of things. Being air-headed, being childish around his parents, etc. But it isn't mean-spirited, and Tristan knows that. It's just an aspect of their relationship and one of the ways Lancelot shows affection to people. That's Tristan's best friend who is mean to him, but he still calls him by a cute little nickname ("Lance.")

The implications that Tristan has called Lancelot out for being like his father before is really funny. Quick lines like this convey a lot about a relationship, it demonstrates that familiarity.

I have a lot more I could say about them, but Tumblr apparently has a 30 image limit per-post. I'm just really excited to see what comes next for them in the timeskip. I suspect all of these building themes are going to come together in some pretty important ways the closer that we get to the main conflict of the sequel.

This analysis isn't necessarily meant to be shippy... But I do ship them, lol... ❤️