#the lengthy rant you asked for

[erebus0dora]

ok so i promised you a rant on Eric Bogosian, and i pinky promise i'll try to keep the story short (those beautiful people i've already privately spewed my fascination at deserve peace and love 💜)

TL;DR: Eric Bogosian is a good researcher and judge of human nature, which honestly shouldn't be surprising given his experience, links below

it is easy to google Eric (i'll call him that not out of disrespect, it's just shorter) and get to a conclusion he's just a slightly awkward old man who had extremely weird youth and gives off a powerful bi vibe just for shits and giggles; which is fair, given the wild way he handles most interviews

but hear me out, i'm not an expert, i'm just a book kind of girl. so i sought out the books, and into the books i looked.

back in 1988 he was nominated for Pulitzer's for his "Talk Radio", and i count that as one of the first cases of him using a real story to weave a (semi)fictional one. it is a powerful play, and a gut-punching movie, but I am mentioning it not because of its ehhh artistic value. in my book, it's a proof of the way he tends to critically re-imagine the things he sees and analyses.

keep that in mind when you google his "Operation 'Nemesis".

he initially started looking into the history of Armenian genocide as into the material worth developing into a plot for a movie. but, in his own words, and i quote, "I wrote this book because I had no choice. The Nemesis story required more attention than a simple screenplay."

he is still not a scientist, mind that - and his book reads as a work of fiction. say, there's no way one can look into the head of a deceased person and know their feelings, but one can guess; and Eric guesses, of course. but the fun part is that he makes educated guesses. nearly for each presumption there's a source. a footnote. a quote.

what really strikes me is that he looked into ONE plot line and fished out a complex slice of history, dripping with CONTEXT. White Russian emigration? it's in there. early stages of oil industry? check. the colourful background of Europe in early XX century? all there.

there's no wonder he spent seven years on this book.

i repeat: SEVEN. YEARS.

call me sapiosexual, but that was the moment when i stopped and thought: ok, THIS IS HOT.

what also impresses me is the way he speaks of his past. he admits he's done wild shit, and adds that the best part was the moment he understood he didn't need to be high to be creative. it's the underlying power of "yeah, been there, got better, SO CAN YOU" that gets me.

to keep things short, i'm adding links:

here's a vid where he speaks of the book on Armenian genocide (i had personal reasons to tear up a bit while listening, ngl)

and here's a vid where he speaks of acting, writing, and improv, that basically broke my art block, for which i am going to be grateful for fucking ever, i guess

(if you got to this point of my rant, you deserve a hug and a respectful kiss on the mouth if you're ok with that. go have a lovely day 💜)

[black-and-yellow]

𝕴𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖉𝖊

[wallofville]

uh lex, sir - do you remember helen bryce, your second wife??? you deliberately gave her your house key that opens "every single" door to the mansion before she moved in. so what do you mean you've "never asked"? helen was one of them.

source here from the smallville wiki site.

okay, it made him sound like a hypocrite (or maybe the writers had completely forgotten about helen as a character from season 2 and only appeared in the first two eps post that season) *shocking*. idk maybe be really up front about it to lana, since she was having second thoughts about moving in with you.

i don't want to make this too long but later in the episode, lana had a conversation with chloe about literally feeling she'd probably lose her identity if she does continue to have this (exclusive) relationship with lex.

chloe: well, lana, if you don't trust him now, that dynamic is not gonna change. lana: it's just i keep blaming my trust issues on everyone else. and the truth is, the person that i don't trust is myself. i keep ... haven't always made the right decisions. and when i realize that i have made the wrong ones, i'm too far gone to get myself out.

kinda tired when a (major) female character is revolve around with only men as their arc but at least lana has been aware about this.

[sphacelating]

As someone who loves Andrew as a character and doesn’t hate on Ashley and recognize both of their flaws unlike most people, I feel like the fandom coddles and sympathizes Andrew even more after Chapter 3 because of his backstory.

Ashley’s behavior is largely a result of her parents’ neglect and lack of effort in raising her. They never made her go to therapy or address her issues, instead enabling her behavior and shifting the blame onto her brother. She never had birthdays celebrated, and her fake friends only used her to get closer to Andy. As a result, no one really supports her, and she never learned how to behave in a healthy way. So, it makes sense why she’d become so dependent on Andy when he’s the only one who’s actually tried to care for her and make her happy.

What people often overlook is that Ashley grew up in the same toxic, abusive environment as Andrew, but instead of being labeled as “evil” or “manipulative,” she’s simply a product of the neglect and lack of guidance she experienced. She craves unconditional love, doesn’t understand relationships, and wears her emotions on her sleeve. Meanwhile, Andrew sees through it, lets her behavior slide, and ends up blaming her for his own actions.

There’s a lot of sympathy for Andrew, to the point where people overlook some of his less admirable qualities—like how he treats Ashley, Julia, Nina, and others. But when it comes to Ashley, she’s dismissed just because her personality is harder for people to like. She grew up in the same neglectful and abusive environment as Andrew, but their personalities turned out differently because she was completely neglected, while Andrew was suppressed. This explains why Ashley tends to act out and demand attention, while Andrew keeps things bottled up. Yet people forget this, and only see Ashley as a product of the same toxic environment that worsened Andrew, without considering that there was nothing in that environment that could’ve helped her improve. She doesn’t know how to initiate positive, prosocial behavior because she wasn’t taught how to.

In many ways, Andrew’s behavior is just as problematic—he rarely does anything genuinely prosocial and sometimes behaves horribly toward people who care about him, like Julia. But because he’s more inward in his attitude and has a more fleshed-out backstory, people tend to accept him more easily. Ashley, on the other hand, hasn’t been given the same explanation or “justification” for her actions.

Ashley is clearly wrong for abusing and raping Andrew, and it's understandable that people sympathize with him because of it. However, let’s not pretend Andrew is some “innocent” person. He’s spied on his sister while she was changing, emotionally manipulated others, used Julia to vent his sexual frustrations about Ashley, cared more about the consequences of his actions than the lives he took, faked nightmares to sleep next to his sister, and continues to engage in inappropriate touching or flirting with her.

In the Shots and Such ending, Andrew wanted Ashley to get drunk with him so they could have "accidental" sex, and he ended up assaulting her while she was intoxicated, trying to repeat what he considered the best sex he ever had. In the Cliffhanger ending, it is implied that Andrew intended to assault his imaginary sister.

In the story, Andrew makes many sexual comments to Ashley but later takes back his consent. Despite this, Ashley continues to press him, which leads to the conclusion that this is rape.

Then Andrew has sex with a wasted Ashley. When she finds out, she has a breakdown. Andrew argues that she "wanted it," suggesting it wasn't rape?

Andrew violently beats Ashley and then becomes drunk. Ashley forces him to have sex with her. Later, Andrew admits he likes to get Ashley drunk to have sex with her and has been trying to recreate it over and over again.

Both individuals are terrible, but it frustrates me that Andrew is not held accountable for anything.

Ashley and Andrew both have difficult personalities shaped by their neglectful upbringing. Ashley seeks attention and is often criticized for her behavior, while Andrew is more reserved and people overlook his flaws. The key point is that both are shaped by their environment and should not be labeled as simply a "monster" or a "victim. "

If you feel sympathy for one sibling, you should show the same sympathy to the other. Similarly, if you dislike one sibling, you should also have the same feelings toward the other.

i don’t know what world you live in where people are sympathizing with andrew after decay and refusing to hold him accountable, nor why you’re dropping all these paragraphs in my inbox to tell me how much andrew sucks and ashley should be coddled more like i’m one of those people.

not a fan of anything you said on the topic of rape, either. mentioning it in passing only to bring up examples of andrew disregarding ashley’s lack of genuine consent after he was raped by ashley and she forced him into a sexual relationship as if to show that andrew is a worse rapist, even comparing his deeply repressed thoughts in cliffhanger to the act of rape by claiming thoughts = intent to act, all of that strongly comes off as trying to justify what was done to him and i am not here for it.

and making sexual comments does not in any way equal consent to sex, so andrew didn’t withdraw consent that he’s never given when ashley raped him. you’re definitely in “andrew wanted it so the rape wasn’t that bad” territory here and it’s extremely uncomfortable.

[bagels-and-cream-cheese333]

I dunno man, I think I’m just,,, the best? mayhaps someone who unbelievably flatters someone else. idk tho… maybe I’m just cool like that? maybe I’m just amazing? maybe I could drop and give him 20? idk tho..

[kamitv]

Secretly down bad!Naoya who walks around acting like he's a part of the whole "I hate my gf" trend when in reality, you drive him crazy in ways he couldn't possibly begin to explain or understand.

Secretly down bad!Naoya who gets hard whenever you yell at him. Something about that aggravation in your tone, the way you glare at him, and the overall frustration that takes over your body makes his cock twitch without second thought.

Secretly down bad!Naoya who can't handle arguments with you for that exact reason. Most of his past "lovers", if you can even call them that, would've left him after the first argument. But you? Oh, your tongues ten times sharper than his could ever be. He's tried insulting you in every way possible but somehow you always make him eat his words.

Secretly down bad!Naoya who's unintentionally become a gentleman around you. Following things like the "side-walk rule", referring to you as "ma'am", and doing things like holding the door open for you. All very simple things but all actions he's never done for anyone else. Ever.

Secretly down bad!Naoya who learned so much about himself ever since he got with you. You've suggested some wild things in the bedroom and although his initial response is usually no, he somehow ends up doing exactly as you've requested.

Secretly down bad!Naoya one time scowled at the mere idea of bondage, especially when you said he'd be the one restricted. And yet, there he was on that fated night with his hands tied behind his back as he watched you play with yourself right in front of him. He was so frustrated that night that he ended up cumming without you even touching him.

Secretly down bad!Naoya who still has a smart mouth, as expected, but he now only gets smart with you to provoke a reaction out of you. Sometimes you'll land a playful smack on his arm and all he can do is smile and ask you to do that again.

Which is roughly what opened his eyes to the fact that he quite enjoys a bit of pain from you. Choking him while you ride him to the point of throated grunts 'n groans catching at his throat? Telling him about himself in more ways than one and how he's such a shitty person?? Well, shit, he can't quite get enough.

Secretly down bad!Naoya who felt a shiver run down his spine when you once blocked him for something rather trivial. What really topped it all off was when you told him that the only thing that'd make you unblock him was if he sent an apology video, with tears.

And not just any kinda apology video either, no, of course not. The woman he's found himself with is far more demanding than that. Instead, you told him to send you a pathetic video of him getting off to you, still with tears, and a genuine apology.

Secretly down bad!Naoya who rolled his eyes at that rediculous request of yours. Never in a million years would he send some woman (the love of his life, btw--I know, surprising) a video of him not only jerking off, but also apologizing over something stupid he did? No way. Over his dead body-

Secretly down bad!Naoya who gives in after a total of three hours and sends you a lengthy video of his shaky hands wrapped around his cock as he pants out your name, whispering how sorry he is in a tone so unbelievably embarrassed that you can hardly believe it's him at first.

And if that wasn't enough, it's even more surprising to you how Secretly down bad!Naoya also has a pair of your panties pressed up to his nose and is ranting about how agonizing it's been not being able to text or call you for the past few hours.

Secretly down bad!Naoya who, at the end of the video, utters a bratty complaint about how much you get on his nerves. Which is so hilarious considering the mess he's made of himself, on video, all for you. And on top of this complaint of his? Seconds after, he's whining a plea for you to unblock him so he can get your attention again, even if said attention consists of you cursing him out again.

Secretly down bad!Naoya who gets unblocked about thirty minutes after he sent those videos of his and starts smiling to himself like an idiot. Somehow in that insane mind of his, he's managed to convince himself that he won whatever conflict was just between the two of you.

Even though he had to send you multiple videos of him jerking off and making an overall fool of himself...

Secretly down bad!Naoya who's not even 'secretly down bad', you're actually well aware of how pathetic your boyfriend is for you. He can't explain it too well but, you've always had him wrapped around your pretty lil' finger like no other.

[withwritersblock]

Blowing Smoke

~Blowing Smoke by Gracie Abrams~

Author's Note: requested! italics are flashbacks and how i met your mother is literally my favorite show of all time so when I saw this request nearly passed out. Summary: Quinn and Y/N have a complicated friends with "benefits" situation Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 4,136 Quinn Hughes x fm!reader

She sat down in the bar booth beside Quinn a groan leaving her lips. Kasey and Michael looked towards her suspiciously while Quinn was already watching her sit down. Frankie was off flirting with some girl in the bar, leaving the extra chair empty. 

“Hey honey, what’s wrong?” Kasey asked as she slid the small scotch glass towards her. Y/N immediately took a hold of it and chugged it. Quinn’s eyes widened as he watched her drink the whole thing. Michael tried to hide his smirk while he brought his own beer towards his lips.

“I hate my job,” she let out as she fought the burn of the scotch down her throat. “I swear I’m never having kids because of this job,” she slammed the glass down onto the table.

Quinn wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards his body. She rested her head onto his shoulder. Her lips fell into a pout as she met Kasey’s gaze. “What happened today?” Kasey asked.

The pair worked together for the last three years and is the whole reason why they in this booth together. Y/N was new to the area and needed a group of people to be with. Kasey was the only other person less than forty at the elementary school they taught at. 

“Three of my students got into a brawl and I got brought into the principal’s office,” she explained as she lifted her head from Quinn’s shoulder. She looked into his eye for a moment. 

Quinn cringed as he slide his drink towards her, “Maybe you need this a bit more than me,” he let out as he shifted his gaze towards around the bar. She gladly took a hold of it and chugged the remainder of the drink. She let out a hushed groan as she shook her head. “I’ll go get us another round,” Quinn offered as he stood up from the booth, tapping his hand against the table.

“You’re going to love them, it’s going to be a great group,” Kasey let out as she guided her inside the bar, the bar her and her friends hang at nearly every other night. Kasey began to guide them towards the group of three guys sitting in a booth that they seemed quite comfortable in.

Y/N held back looking towards the guy she hooked up with two weeks ago. Hooked up was a strong word but they had a lengthy make out and a romantic evening on a rooftop. He was looking at her with so much love for someone who was on a first date. She wasn’t looking for anything serious but by the way he was looking at her and kissing her; he was. She told him that she wanted it to be a one time thing and he listened and they haven’t spoken since.

“You okay?” Kasey asked as she spun around. Y/N blinked rapidly as she looked towards the three guys again.

“Those are your friends?” Y/N asked quietly. Kasey nodded, a small grin on her lips. 

“Oh god, did you hook up with Frankie? I’m so sorry-he’s-I don’t actually know why we’re friends with him,” Kasey explained while shaking her head.

“What about him?” she asked, her gaze on Quinn. Kasey followed her line of sight and her eyes widened. 

“Oh Quinn? Are you a Canucks fan? Of course you are, you’re from Vancouver-he’s harmless,” she ranted.

“No, I mean yes but we sort of-had a night together a few weeks ago. I don’t want to make this awkward, thank you for inviting me-I think I’ll just-”

“No, stay! Come on, there’s so much testosterone over there, I need someone to balance it out! Come on, he won’t make it weird,” she took a hold of Y/N’s arm and dragged her towards the table.

“I’m worried, I’ll make it weird,” she mumbled. Kasey chuckled as she walked towards the booth.

Quinn lifted his gaze and met her eye, he smirked as he squinted his eyes slightly as he brought the beer towards his lips fighting the grin. 

“Frankie, get up and get a chair,” Kasey asked, smacking her hand against his upper back.

“What? Why do I ha-” Frankie argued but Kasey smacked her hand against his back again before he stood up and walked away to get a chair. Kasey’s fiance moved and sat beside Quinn, letting the girls sit beside one another. 

“Boys this is Y/N, we work together and she is my newly found best friend so you better be nice and behave because I would like her to stick around,” Kasey said waving a finger between Quinn and Frankie, her finger staying pointed towards Frankie a little longer than Quinn.

Y/N smiled softly towards them before she brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. “I’m going to go grab a drink,” she let out as she slipped out of the booth seat.

“I’ll join ya,” Quinn let out as he smiled towards Kasey, almost mockingly. 

“Behave,” Kasey whispered loudly. 

Y/N walked towards the bar, smiling towards the bartender ordering an espresso martini. Quinn leaned against the bartop, smiling towards her. She pursed her lips forward, keeping her gaze on the bartender, watching him make the drink.

“So have you changed your mind then?” he asked as he leaned his head into his hand. Turning her head, she met his eye fighting a grin forming to her lips.

“I didn’t know you were friends with Kasey when I agreed to hang out with her friends tonight,” she explained as the espresso martini was placed in front of her. Quinn gestured towards the bartender to put it on his tab. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked into his eye.

“It’s my night for the tab,” he mumbled. The bartender placed a beer in front of him. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled as she brought the drink towards her lips, taking a small sip. “Are you okay with this?” she asked while glancing towards the table. Quinn looked into her eyes, almost searching for something.

“Yeah,” he said quite confidently, almost nervous. “As long as you don’t sleep with Frankie. You’ll be the third friend of Kasey’s to stop hanging out with us because of him,”

“Noted,” she let out laughing as the pair returned to their booth.

“I’m gonna get fired,” she let out as she rested her head into hands.

“They won’t fire you,” Kasey said as she rested her head onto Michael’s shoulder. “We’re in a teacher shortage, you know that,” she teased. Y/N rolled her eyes playful as she turned her gaze towards Quinn and a short blonde talking at the bar. He was flirting, she could tell by the way he was leaning against the bartop.

Her mood was already in the dumps but it was getting worse the more she was watching him flirt with a girl, he probably doesn’t even know the name off. Frankie stood behind the blonde, holding up a thumbs up towards Quinn. 

She felt the oxygen in her body dissipate as she continued to watch him talk with the girl. Their drinks were sitting on a tray in front of him but he was not attempting on bringing them over towards them.

Kasey turned around, “Oi Huggy bring me my beer!” she shouted. Quinn shifted his gaze towards the group, he began chuckling before he took the tray cautiously and began walking towards his booth table. The blonde girl huffed before she wandered towards a different corner in the bar.

“What if that was my future wife, Kase, you could’ve just ruined that,” Quinn expressed as he delicately placed the drinks down in front of them. He slammed the tray against his side as he looked into Kasey’s eyes.

“Sure Quinn, the girl with her tongue down Frank’s throat is your future wife. Sit,” she expressed. He spun his head around to see the blonde making out with Frankie against the bartop. Quinn laughed awkwardly as he left the tray on an empty table before he plopped back down beside Y/N. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her towards him.She rested her head onto his shoulder as she took a deep breath.

It was a common routine between herself and Quinn. If she was asked about her feelings towards Quinn three years ago, she would say it was merely attraction, but now she was not so sure. There was a handful of nights over the years that reflected the first night they met. It never went past a sleezy make out with their clothes on. It always ended with them cuddling and falling asleep in each others arms.

She brought her espresso martini towards her lips, taking a tiny sip before she rested her head back onto Quinn’s shoulder. He ran his hand up and down her arm. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered before he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 

Michael and Kasey shared a glance before they awkwardly brought their beers to their lips. Frankie soon took a hold of the empty chair, spinning it around as he sat down. “Look what I got!” he sang as he showed a napkin with the blonde’s number on it. 

He spun it around, “Vanessa,” he sang before he ripped the napkin and let it fall to the floor. “Quinny, she wanted me to give it to but I guess I lost the napkin,” he teased as he smirked before he brought his scotch towards his lips. Quinn rolled his eyes as he pulled his phone from his pocket to see a text from his younger brother Jack. He pulled his arm away from Y/N as he began to reply.

~~~

She was laying on the couch, her feet draped over Kasey’s lap as they were both scrolling through their phones. Michael and Frankie were in front of them attempting to get a new high score on Just Dance. Quinn was pacing back and forth adjusting his collar and running his fingers through his hair repeatedly. 

“My hair look okay?” he stopped behind the couch, looking down towards Y/N. She pulled the phone away from her face, looking up towards him, she hummed before she returned her gaze back to her phone. “You wouldn’t lie to me right?” he pressed further. 

“Quinn, it looks good,” she let out a chuckle leaving her lips. He nodded before he walked back towards the bathroom.

Despite being the captain of the Canucks, money everywhere at his disposal, but he still lived with his first ever roommate in Vancouver. It was only a few seconds before he stepped out of the bathroom holding two bottles of cologne. “Y/N, which one is better?” 

He held both bottles in front of her face, rolling her eyes playfully she leaned up and smelled both bottles. She smiled after she looked at the blue glass bottle, “That one,” she muttered. He smiled as he sprayed a few across his entire body. 

“You’re the best, Y/N!” Quinn said while jogging away. Y/N nodded as she raised her eyebrows while trying not to laugh. 

“What’s the name of this one?” Michael asked loudly while panting as the song finished. Frankie clapped his hands together while pointing his finger guns towards Michael, “Start it again,” he forced out.

Frankie started the game again, “Your funeral Atkins,” Frankie said completely normal, no sense of being out of breath.

Quinn remerged adjusting his collar, “Her name is Josephine and we met at that coffee place down the street. She has no idea who I am, which is great,”

“Doesn’t sound creepy at all,” Y/N mumbled, getting a laugh from Kasey. 

“It’s not because this could be it guys! I’ve got a good feeling about this one,” He let out as he continued walking towards the door. “I’ll be back!” he sing-songed before he stepped out of the apartment. Y/N shook her head while she kept her gaze on her phone.

Kasey delicately tapped her hands against Y/N’s thigh. She lifted her gaze from her phone to meet Kasey’s gaze. “Are you okay?” Kasey asked softly. Y/N blinked a few times before shaking her head slightly.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kasey pouted her lips. 

“I’m fine,”

Kasey leaned towards her, practically getting on top of her, “The love of your life just walked out the door on a date with another woman,” Kasey whispered. 

“He’s hardly the love of my life,” she shot back quietly while looking into Kasey’s eyes. “I don’t have any feelings,” Y/N expressed. Kasey huffed and stood up from the couch, dodging Michael and Frankie in the process. She walked around towards the back of the couch. 

Kasey motioned towards her to follow her. Y/N reluctantly stood up from the couch, Michael nearly smacked her in the head. “Damn, Y/N, you know not to get in the way of Mikey and Gaga,” Frankie joked as she stumbled away from the pair.

“Alright, we’re going to head home, Quinn are you coming?” Kasey asked as she started to climb out of the booth. Michael started to slide out too. Quinn shook his head as he brought his water towards his lips.

“I’ll head back in a bit,” he mumbled. Michael and Kasey smiled towards him before they started walking out of the bar. Quinn’s gaze followed Frankie who was busy chatting up a red haired girl that was definitely way out of his league. She seemed interested enough.

Quinn lifted his gaze to see Kasey talking with Y/N for a moment before her and Michael walked out of the bar. Y/N didn’t need to look through the bar to find Quinn. They sat at the same booth every time they were there. Which was nearly every night. They would only drink two nights they were there but it was their hangout spot. 

She pouted her lips slightly as she slide into the booth, the same side as Quinn. 

“Why is it every time you come here you have a pout on your lips,” Quinn teased as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Y/N rested her head onto his shoulder, he ran his hand up and down her arm. 

“It’s not every time,” she mumbled fighting the grin on her lips.

Quinn’s face scrunched while smirking, “It’s almost every time.” He leaned his head against hers as he stared blankly ahead. 

“Well you… guys always make me feel better,” she mumbled. Quinn smiled to himself before he leaned towards her, pressing his lips to the top of her head for a second. 

After a few seconds she lifted her head to meet his eye. His hand glided up her arm, running through her hair as he took a hold of her neck. “What are you doing, Quinn?” she asked softly as she rested her forehead against his. Their hearts were beating out of their chest as they felt like they were in their own little bubble. 

“Quinn,” she mumbled before he leaned towards her, delicately kissing her. She hummed against his lips as she took a hold of his t-shirt, tugging it slightly. 

“You have an apartment upstairs, we should head to your apartment upstairs,” he mumbled against her lips. She giggled.

“Let’s go to my apartment upstairs,” she teased as she slowly glided out of the booth, holding out her hand for him. He gladly took a hold of it as she guided him towards the exit of the bar.

“Oh yeah!” Frankie shouted as he saw them walking out together. 

Once they were upstairs, her small studio apartment was always there “secret” spot together. She shut the door and twisted the lock as she pressed her back against the door. He stood in front of her, shyly shoving his hands into his pockets.

She reached her hands up and delicately took a hold of the base of his neck. She dragged her thumbs across his skin as she looked into his eyes He pressed his lips together as he scanned her features. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked as she tilted her head back against the door. 

He smirked as he inched towards her, “I’m not thinking,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her devouring her lips.

Kasey took a hold Y/N’s arm and guided her towards her bedroom, to talk without the boys hearing. Not that they were listening much anyway. “Frankie said that you two left the bar the other night holding hands and that he saw you guys be all close and cuddly,” Kasey whispered excitedly as she forced Y/N to sit down onto her bed.

Rolling her eyes she pursed her lips forward. “It’s not like we had sex,” she mumbled. 

Kasey let out a dramatica groan as she sat beside Y/N yet she also laid onto her back. Kasey pretended to punch the ceiling. “So you’re completely okay with making out with him and then watching him go on a string of first dates pretending to find the one. When we all know the one is you,” she explained while dramatically using her hands to make her point. 

“I don’t know about that,” Y/N let out barely above a whisper as she laid on her back, following Kasey in pursuit. 

“Do you have feelings for him?” she asked as she turned her head to meet Y/N’s gaze. 

She didn’t want to say yes. She knew that Quinn was special from the moment that she met him but she wasn’t ready. Still didn’t feel totally ready. Because what does being ready even mean?

“I’ll take your silence as a declaration of love,” Kasey teased. 

“It’s not, it’s an I don’t know,” she muttered. 

~~~

It had been a month since Quinn’s gone on any date. Josephine ended up being a huge Canucks fan and wanted nothing more than to be involved with the captain. Quinn swore off dating after that, he was honestly terrified of the stalking that came with girls like that. 

Quinn stumbled into the apartment after a win by the Canucks where he had the game winning goal. Despite his friends having season tickets that Quinn paid eighty percent for because they insisted on contributing; they didn’t end up going to the game that night. 

Kasey stumbled out of the bedroom, her pajamas covering her frame. She threw her hands to the side, “Why do you insist on playing good when we don’t go? That’s so unfair,” she let out somewhat jokingly. She jogged towards him, pulling into a tight bear hug. 

“Then you guys need to start coming to every game,” he muttered as he chuckled. His eyes scanned the apartment, furrowing his eyebrows. “No, Y/N or Frank?” he asked softly. 

“They went out to a club or something, said that they were going to be each other’s wingman,” Kasey said, somewhat instigating. Quinn’s eyes widened as he nodded, he ran his hand across his chin.

“They went-like- together?” Quinn asked softly, meeting Kasey’s gaze. She nodded slowly, fighting the grin forming to her lips. “Cool, that’s cool.”

“One more time and I’ll believe you,” she muttered, raising her eyebrows.

“It’s cool,” he let out. She smirked as she started stepping back towards her bedroom.

“Okay, goodnight Quinn,” she teased before she slipped back into her room. Quinn nodded before he slowly walked towards his bedroom, directly opposite of Kasey and Michael’s room.

He stepped inside of his room and every hit he took during the game suddenly overtook his body. His entire frame felt battered and bruised. He took in a shaky breath as he took a hold of the hoodie on his frame, he pulled it away from his body, tossing it towards the corner of his room. 

He walked towards the small mirror hanging above his dresser, taking note of the redden and bruising jagged spot on his ribs. Clenching his jaw, he delicately ran his fingers across the top of the skin. He sighed as his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw that Y/N was calling him. 

Quinn lifted it up and brought it towards his ear, answering it. “Y/N, you alright?” he asked.

“Can I come in?” she asked softly. He furrowed his eyebrows as he felt his heart jump into his throat.

“You have a key to our place,” Quinn offered as he took in a deep breath. 

“Not what I meant,” she mumbled. He pressed his lips together as he fought a grin forming to his lips. He reached for the door and pulled it open. They both still had the phone up to their ears. He was the first to slowly pull it away from his ear, he quickly ended the call as he placed it onto the shelf beside him. 

She slowly pulled her phone from her ear, smiling softly. Her body was covered in a tight red dress and her hair was pulled awy from her neck. He scanned her frame. 

“Are you drunk?” he asked softly as he stepped back into the room. She took that as an invitation and stepped inside. Swinging the door shut, it closed quietly. 

“It’s Wednesday, I don’t drink on school nights,” she said with a grin toying to her lips.

“What are you doing here then?” he asked barely above a whisper, a small grin on his lips. 

“I am not sure,” she mumbled as she let out a sudden breath. Quinn bit his bottom lip as he took a hold of her waist as he cautiously pushed her against the door. She let out a small gasp as her eyes widened slightly. Her eyes lowered towards his frame, taking note of his bruising frame. “Oh my god,” she muttered as she delicately traced her fingertips across his bruises.

“It’s not that bad,” he said while holding his breath. She tilted her head to the side while staring into his eyes. He nodded as he stepped back.

“Got my ass handed to me tonight,” he muttered. She chuckled as she watched him sit down onto his bed. She chuckled as she walked towards him. His gaze followed her intently.

“I can make you feel better,” she mumbled. He smirked as he scanned her frame.

“How do you plan on doing that?” he asked as he leaned back on his hands. She stood in front of him, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Y/N,” he let out barely above a whisper. She took a hold of his cheeks, lifting his head up. 

“I’m gonna-” she muttered before she leaned towards him kissing him desperately, almost as if they’ve never kissed before. He reached his hands towards her, taking a hold of her waist as he pulled her towards him. 

Her fingertips began to run through his hair as they began to devour each others lips. She slowly climbed onto his lap as his hands took a hold of her thighs. His fingertips glided along her skin as he slowly ran his hands higher and higher up her frame. She pulled her lips away from his as she pressed her forehead against his.

“I’m gonna say it,” she mumbled before she pressed her lips against his again. He hummed against her lips before he tilted his head back, slowly opening his eyes. She met his gaze as she continued to slowly run her fingers through the ends of his hair. 

“I’m waiting,” he let out teasingly before he pecked her lips.

“You know this is really hard for me right,” she muttered. He smirked before he took a hold of her thighs, and tossed her onto the bed. Her eyes widened as he started to climb on top of her. Scanning her features, he leaned down and delicately pressed his lips against her cheek.

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her, he brushed his lips against her ear, “But I need you to say it.” he pulled back and met her gaze. She rolled her eyes playfully before squeezing her eyes shut.

“I have feelings for you,” she muttered before she slowly opened her eyes. He had a grin on his face as he looked into her eyes.

“What kind of feelings?” he asked teasingly. 

“Oh shut up,” she said as she took a hold of his neck pulling him towards her. She kissed him urgently as a giggle fell from his lips.

“This feels a little out of nowhere,” he mumbled against her lips.

“If you think three years is a little out of nowhere, you are hopeless,” she let out before she kissed him urgently.

[ddarker-dreams]

missing scarlet ribbons so bad… brain food for SR: confined space stand that lowkey locks SR reader in a really small alternate dimension space with the bucci gang. like… chest to chest on top like “aughh sorry!! its so cramped in here :((“ and the guys r j internally screaming over it

RETURNING WITH SOME SCARLET RIBBONS !!!!!!!!!!!! i love them your honor <33333333

[Scarlet Ribbons index]

Although Giorno recognizes this predicament's unique benefits, he still prioritizes your well-being. He will check you over, ensuring no harm has been inflicted. Once that’s settled, admittedly, a few mischievous thoughts flit through his mind… none that he’ll act on, however. He accommodates you to the best of his ability. Ever the opportunist, he’ll gratefully accept any physical contact your shuffling around results in. Should you find yourself bored while waiting out the Stand’s effects, he’ll humor (most) requests you make of Gold Experience. And no, he won’t agree to create an elephant, no matter how passionately you plead your case. You’ll have to settle for a duckling or something similarly small. Capybaras aren’t off the table. 

Your level-headed leader, Bruno, finds himself unusually flustered. He recoils a bit too fast from any contact and dedicates a lengthy chunk of time to clearing his throat. He steels his nerves by asking if you’re alright, feeling any adverse side effects, etc. Sticky Fingers is summoned to check for a way out of this pocket dimension, an idea that’s proven implausible. You’ll both have to wait it out. Bruno gives you as much space as he can, to the point his contortions are stressing you out from how uncomfortable they must be. He almost chokes when you offhandedly suggest sitting on his lap to ‘free up space.’ Poor man. 

Fugo’s irritated over the fight’s outcome. He feels useless, since your presence prevents him from utilizing Purple Haze, lest you fall victim to the Stand’s abilities. He critiques your strategies and lists what you should’ve done differently. Don’t take it personally — internally, he’s berating himself for being unable to do more. The self-loathing steadily fades away as he recognizes how close these accommodations have you. Fugo cuts himself off mid rant, sputtering incoherent gibberish. His heart starts beating so hard, he wonders if he might be going into cardiac arrest. Your knees are brushing against each other. Why aren’t you panicking? Why is he panicking? … And why does he feel some gratitude toward the Stand User responsibles for this? 

Narancia considers this a golden opportunity to prove how reliable (and cool!) he is. Will most likely quote an action hero for maximum effect. He reassures you that he’s ‘totally got this’ and suggests shooting the walls with Aerosmith to bust out. You have to talk him out of this brilliant plan, reminding him that ricochet is a thing. Sitting still and waiting for the Stand’s ability to run its course hits him the hardest. He wants to be proactive, primed to pummel the asshole that got you both in this situation. However, your presence greatly decreases the likelihood he’ll do anything rash. At a certain point, he finds the whole thing kinda cool, like a secret base only you two know about. 

Mista used to pray for days like these. He’s thanking all the saints (that he can remember) for this gracious opportunity. Still, he’s mindful of your boundaries, doing his best not to intrude on your space. He will be inhaling your perfume, though. In copious amounts. While escape should be a high priority, seeing as neither of you are dying, he’s rather chill about the entire ordeal. You’re his favorite person to goof around with. He jokes about offering himself up if you’re stuck here long enough for starvation to kick in. You don’t get why his mind always ends up in a Hannibal-Lecter-esque place, but it’s a nice (?) sentiment. The Stand’s ability ends far too fast for his liking. 

Abbacchio is secretly grateful it’s you he’s stuck with and not some other schmuck. He might give you a hard time, but your presence is tolerable, even if you have a proclivity for yapping. The fact that you’re nice on the eyes is an added bonus. Considering his height, it’s impossible for you to have absolutely zero contact. Abbacchio’s always been tough on himself — he wouldn’t blame you if you were repulsed by him. So for you not to shrink away when your hands touch… it warms his heart in a way he hadn’t thought possible. He’ll humor your musings, adding his own dry wit on the occasion until you’re both freed. 

[kirbyofthestars]

a fairly detailed kirby oc ask meme

🪐 (Saturn) - What planet are they from? Is it in Gamble Galaxy, Another Dimension, the Mirror World, the New World, or somewhere else? Where do they live now?

🧃 (Juicebox) - What species are they? What’s their biology and physiology like? Do they differ in any way from a ‘typical’ member of their species?

⚔️ (Crossed Swords) - What weapon(s) do they wield or specialize in, if any in particular? Any special properties? Do their weapons have names or epithets? [e.g. MK’s Galaxia, Morpho’s Doomblade]

🪄 (Magic Wand) - Are they capable of wielding magic? Is it a learned skill, or is it innate? What sorts of spells can they cast? Do they possess any magical items or artifacts? [e.g. the Dimensional Mantle]

💫 (Shooting Star) - If they were to wish on a clockwork star, like Galactic Nova or Star Dream, what would they wish for?

🪽 (Wing) - Can they fly, hover, or levitate? Is it through natural means or artificial means? If they have wings, what do they look and feel like?

🥘 (Stew) - Do they have any favourite foods or comfort foods? What are their eating habits like? If absorbed by the Cook ability, what healing item would they summon?

🧋 (Boba Tea) - Come up with a Kirby Café item themed around your OC! It can be a savoury dish, a drink, a dessert, or something else entirely.

☀️ (Sun) - What’s their morning routine like? Do they take a lot of time getting ready in the morning? How do they groom themselves? What are they having for breakfast?

🌙 (Moon) - Is your OC a particularly light or heavy sleeper? Somewhere in-between? Do they take naps?

🍅 (Tomato) - If Kirby absorbed them or their attacks, what Copy Ability [or Abilities] would he get? Alternatively, if they themselves are capable of using the Copy Ability, do they have a favourite?

⚡️ (Lightning Bolt) - Which Power Effects [Blizzard, Bluster, Sizzle, Splash, Zap] would their attacks grant? Do they have any particular weaknesses or resistances, elemental or otherwise?

🎶 (Music Notes) - Do they play any instruments? What kind of leitmotif and/or battle theme would they have? Are there any songs you associate with them?

💌 (Love Letter) - How easy are they to befriend? Are they more of a social butterfly or a lone wolf?

💥 (Collision) - What’s your OC’s combat style like? Do they adhere to any particular code of honour or ethics in a fight, or are they totally unfettered by that sort of thing?

⚙️ (Gear) - Do they have any knowledge of, or connections to, the Ancients? What do they think of them?

⚖️ (Scales) - On the subject of a certain someone’s lengthy rant; is your OC moreso on the side of magic or science? Somewhere in-between? Do they incorporate the two together in some way?

🍨 (Ice Cream) - The Invader Armour undergoes a drastic transformation depending on its pilot. If they were to wield it, what appearance would their mech take on? What abilities would it have?

🪞 (Mirror) - What would their Mirror World counterpart be like? If they are a Mirror World counterpart, what traits of theirs are reflected? Do the two of them get along?

🐛 (Caterpillar) - What are your OC’s greatest fears, and why? How do they act or react when they’re afraid?

💼 (Bag) - Inventory check! What items does your OC typically carry around with them? What do they carry them in?

🔮 (Crystal Ball) - Out of all the treasures in the Great Cave Offensive, Kirby is letting your OC pick one from his stash to keep! Which one do they pick, and why?

♟️ (Pawn) - Does your OC get possessed easily, or do they have the willpower to fight back against any possible attempts? Have they been possessed before?

🕸️ (Spiderweb) - Create a bouquet inspired by your OC! It can be based on their colour palette, flower language and symbolism, whatever they like best, or any combination of the three.

💜 (Purple Heart) - If they were corrupted by the Jamba Heart, which negative traits of theirs would be amplified?

🩷 (Pink Heart) - If they were a Dream Friend, what would their moveset be like? How much HP do they have? Would they be a strong attacker, or would they take on more of a support role?

🦁 (Lion) - If they were an animal — that is, of the Earth / Shiver Star / New World variety — which animal would they be? If they already are an animal, what real-life species or subspecies are they most similar to?

🕰️ (Clock) - What would a Dreamy Gear version of them look like? What sort of accessories would they have? What kind of role do they play?

🛡️ (Shield) - Which Clash role would your OC pick - Sword Hero, Hammer Lord, Beam Mage, or Doctor Healmore?

🦋 (Butterfly) - Does your OC ‘fear the reaper’, so to speak? If they fused with Morpho Knight, what sort of form would they take on?

🍒 (Cherry) - Out of all of the Dream Friends [Kirby included], which ones would they get along with the most? The least?

🥀 (Wilted Rose) - Do they have a Soul form? What would it look and act like? How much control over themselves do they have? Is it still possible to save them, or are they too far gone?

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 23

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Do we ship Billie & Ellie?? Hmmm… (like and rb if you miss Remy lol) Hope you guys are enjoying the book so far! Stay tuned Tues&Thurs for updates and check out my masterlist!

Billie’s POV

The next few days flew by. I almost didn’t even remember what I did all week. Mostly, I moped around, dragging through the day, dodging phone calls or texts messages like the plague.

I overate, burned off the calories in my gym, then ate some more, slept, showered, watched more tv…

The events that transpired on my birthday, or should I say, the night of my birthday, left me feeling so distraught. I felt so embarrassed, so… douchebag-like, for leaving her like that.

That night, I felt like I was going crazy. Maybe I need to go back to therapy again. I mean, am I going to look at girls and see Remy for the rest of my life? That’s ridiculous. She really did look like her, but that’s no coincidence, okay? Maybe I have a type.

Every day is like this. My head explodes into internal rants, just like this one. It leves me in a fog for the rest of the day.

Maybe I should text her. I thought. I need to get her number and apologize. I’ll start with that.

I sit up on my empty couch, tucking my knees into my torso and text my friend Sydney, asking for Ellie’s number.

Some time passes and I finally get in contact with her.

She texts back, and I immediately open the thread.

Ellie: I was wondering if I’d ever hear from you lol

Billie: fuck sorry. i’ve been going thru some shit. it wasn’t fair to do that to you. you were so sweet about it. i’m sorry I ran off like that.

Ellie: I’d love to help if I can 😇

I wondered how she could help. Or if she’d even understand. I guess I owed it to her to find out. Either way, I couldn’t get Remy’s smile out of my mind.

I mean Ellie’s.

Fuck.

I looked back down at my phone, began to type, but couldn’t find the right thing to say. All I know, is I need to get out of the house.

Billie: I’d love to see you again. 🤞🏻

Ellie: Your place this time? 🥴

Tempting, but no. Absolutely not. I’m tired of being in here. And if I embarrassed myself like that again, it’d probably be my 13th reason.

Billie: How about we go get some food?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before I knew it, the day took its course. We didn’t even notice the sun setting from underneath her sheets.

Our breathy voices and bare sweaty bodies needed some air. Ellie rested her face on her hand with her elbow propped up on the pillow, gazing at me as I zoned out.

“Where’d you go?” She took her opposite hand and brushed the stray hairs off my face.

I shook my head, trying to be as present as possible, careful not to fuck this up again. “Nowhere.” My eyes met hers, trailing off to her neck, noticing there were no freckles. They were never there.

I lifted my head off the pillow and kissed her collarbone, tuning out my inner thoughts. I know this can’t be healthy. And probably so selfish of me.

“You’re not gonna take off now, are you?” Her voice uncertain. I felt awful.

I stopped and pulled my face away, looking into her eyes. “No! Unless, you want me to?”

“No, this is nice.” Her lengthy eyelashes pleaded and her arm wrapped around me.

“It is.” I smiled. “I like you, Ellie, I do. I’m sorry if I’m giving mixed signals. My life is complicated right now and-“

Ellie let out a small laugh under her breath and nodded. “I get it. No pressure, really.” She smiled. Her lips were glossy, naturally pink, and especially plump for how much time I spent sucking on them.

I nodded, loving the sound of that. No pressure.

“I mean, how much more pressure can we add, right? We’re literally fully naked right now in your bed.” I joked.

“Whatever you wanna do, at your pace. Even if it’s just this. As long as you take me out to dinner once in a while.” Ellie laughed softly.

“Hey, it’s not gonna be just this, okay? I’m not like that.” I tried to reassure her, not knowing if she really was joking or laughing through the hurt.

Maybe sex was a bad idea. My mind began to spiral again. I shut my eyes, trying to avoid making things weird again.

Okay, maybe I’m the problem.

“Billie, I’m so down to just go with the flow.” She put her fingertips on my chin and tilted my face in her direction. “Are you?”

Her eyes looked sincere and inviting. I just wanted to stop the impulsive thoughts. I quickly wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her back on top, right where I wanted her. She towered over me, close enough for me to let my lips speak for themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks went by, and it was finally the end of January. Ellie and I had been seeing each other every day since December 21st. My friends had met her a handful of times and they seemed to like her. She fit right in. There were no problems, except… the elephant in the room.

More so the elephant not in the room. She wanted to know more about Remy.

Who is that girl in all your pictures?

What happened between you two?

Why don’t you talk anymore?

All valid questions. I just didn’t want to open up that can of worms. Because if I did, I’d have to explain more than I care to admit.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved to talk about important things. The deep things. The importantly deep things about her, of course. It was harder to open up about mine. Most things came out as a result of my oversharing. But there were things I didn’t even bring up. And neither did she, actually.

Until a package showed up at my door while she was here.

Well, she was always here. I didn’t mind, though. It meant I didn’t have to sit alone in my thoughts. Plus, she was really cool. Her energy and vibes were great. She made me laugh, I made her laugh. She has a beautiful soul. And she turns me on. She can go all day. It doesn’t matter what time it is, she could keep up.

I digress.

Anyway, the package.

A golden wrapped present at my door tied with a huge gold bow appeared at my door, with a tag that read, “From Remy ❤️”

“I mean, I just don’t understand why you don’t want to open it. I’ll leave if you rather do it alone.” She fidgeted with her fingers. She seemed upset, and maybe I was making it worse.

“I still wouldn’t open it. I don’t want to.” I shook my head, hoping she’d drop it.

“But, why? What happened between you guys?” She insisted?

“Ellie-“

“I just want to know more about you! Is that wrong?”

“No! It’s just not important!” I grabbed her arm, hoping it would soothe her, but it just made her even more upset.

“Not important? You guys were best friends. There’s photos of you two everywhere. Her things are in your room, Billie!” She crossed her arms.

I ran a hand through my hair, wanting to run off and shut down, knowing it would only make it worse.

“Ellie, this is just personal. It’s complicated! Remember we talked and you said no pressure? This is a lot of pressure.”

She scoffed, “Got it. You’re right.” She turned around, grabbing her stuff, heading for the hallway.

“No, don’t go.” I followed, rubbing my face, frustrated and confused. “Ellie I didn’t mean it like that.”

She said nothing, trotting down the staircase.

“Please, just hear me out. I just mean, it’s tough for me to open up. I need some time to just process-“

“Hasn’t enough time gone by? I mean you have no problems fucking me every day. You can do that and still find it hard to trust me?”

Sadly, yes. But I didn’t want to tell her that. I didn’t want to make it worse.

“Of course not!” I stopped her, grabbing her hand and making her face me. “Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I do trust you.”

I lied. Sort of. I trusted her with some things. I trusted her in my house, with my phone, I trusted her with other details of my life…

It’s just hard to tell the girl I’m seeing, and trying to fall in love with, that I am- I mean, was in love with my former best friend. That the feelings I’m supposed to feel for her, are so muddled by the image of my former best friend.

“How is this supposed to work if you can’t trust me with everything? You won’t let me in.” She held onto my hand.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe if I let her in, I’ll drop these other feelings, and I’ll feel closer to her. Maybe letting her in will help me get over myself.

I took a deep breath. “Okay.” I nodded. I pulled her hand, leading her into the living room, where the present sat.

She stood next to me as I carefully pulled on the beautiful ribbon bow.

[marsprincess889]

Astrology rant

I hope astro blogs and astro lovers read this

...

Hi guys I hope you're doing well🤍

These months(17 of them?) of running an astro blog have made me see a variety of opinions regarding a lot of things, mainly_ astrology.

I want to say that this is obviously social media and it's barely a solid, reliable place for sharing or getting info, but on the other side of this, the freedom of internet and, at least relative anonimity can produce truly remarkable insights/statements that you won't see anywhere else. You can never know how true or untrue someone can be unless you really read what they've written(or listen to what they've recorded) and take it in.

But it is still so rare for me to find a blog that shares most of my views. I mean, anyone with an access to internet can start an astrology blog. It's so easy to copy and paste articles on the internet and put them here. They can get thousands of notes and people will believe them and share that unverified info that's been distorted through copying and repetition, to others(which is a whole another, very sad story).

And on most days I just mind my business and work on myself, not wanting to even go close to that energy. I might politely comment on posts that seem false to me, just expressing my suspicions or opinions and asking for theirs in return, but to be very honest, I am tired of seeing the same faulty takes and overall approach. So here are some things that, to me, are just ???? so questionable to say the least(with added reasons):

1. Mixing Vedic and Western

In many ways.

Outer planets that are only used in Western? Sure, here are descriptions and "observations" of them in Vedic nakshatras.

Asteroids that Vedic does not look at? Here are explanations of them in nakshatras too. (But there's an exception that I talk about later)

Western composite and synastry aspects? Yeah here is their analysis based on Vedic charts.

And so many more.

It's not a question of whether their "formulas" mix or not, but a question of integrity and of what you follow.

2. Nakshatras in D9(navamsa) and other divisional charts (!)

Whyyyyyy. Just tell me why.

I don't think anyone who uses nakshatras in any divisional chart has really thought about it.

And before they make say to me something like "you should be open minded" or "people resonate with it"(people are complex and can resonate to many things but nakshatras in divisional charts are not the explanation behind that), they should just read my post on my pinned masterlist about that.

Like I'm this 🤏 close to launching an inquisition to just call out every blog who does this, because it's alarming how many people can defend an illogical point with such unwillingness to see the opposite take.

I feel strongly about this one and I kinda judge people who go with it.

There are no nakshatrs in D9 cause divisional signs are hypothetical, nakshatras are actual stars in the sky. Case closed.

3. Asteroid obsession

Look guys, I love asteroids as much as the next person, if not more. And it makes sense for astrology lovers to be really into asteroids, since astrology is mythological already and asteroids open up a whole variety of different mythological associations and, with them, the potential of embodying them.

But here's where most people can reach error: asteroids cannot be holding the same influence/power as other planets.

There are so many posts with lengthy descriptions of asteroid placements in signs, houses or them aspecting planets with sextiles, trines(those aspects don't matter in most cases when it comes to asteroids).

I think asteroids only ever really hold power if they are closely(4 degrees at most) conjunct or opposite big three or other important planets, and important planets/points are unique to each chart. Asteroid interpretation requires realness with yourself and others and, more importantly, common sense. And yeah, you can interpret them in nakshatras ONLY IF they are tightly conjunct an important planet and you have some examples.

I've seen a lot of obsession with asteroids such as Lilith, Aphrodite, Sirene, Groom, Briede.

Yeah online astrology can generate the need to compare yourself to others, which is silly, cause all charts are unique and have a unique beauty, and there's no such things as "more" or "less" unique anything.

4. Making stuff up

Ok here I'm talking about takes that are barely backed by valid examples.

Like when a blog attributes a theme or a pattern to a placement that has not a lot in common with its original association and/or is backed by examples that are not really viable.

Like when someone says: "Ashwini is associated with .......(insert some specific scenario/trope). Examples: *this actor*_ mars in Ashwini, *this actress*_ D9 ketu in Ashwini(are you for real...), *this person*_ their D393747838 Mercury in Ashwini, time unspecified so might be Bharani."

I know this sounds exaggerated(the last example obviously is) but I've really seen blogs where mars or venus or mercury(jupiter and saturn too) are used as exmaples for a nakshatra. And I've seen a whole blog that focuses on D60 ketu nakshatras a lot.

Now, I think that stems from a desire to associate specific feelings/vibes and themes that they are into with placements that they most likely have, in a way that feels original. But you can't just take vague feelings/suspicions and present them as logical observations or facts, it doesn't work like that😭

A lot of "vibes" or feelings that I had about nakshatras did turn out to be true, but I had to wait to find proof myself, and sometimes the observations can change a little after discovering solid examples and it makes it all clear.

5. Shallow Stereotyping

I know, astrology is built on "strerotypes", but to me they're more archetypes.

A lot of narrow stereotyping can come from more influential astrologers.

This is especially common in Vedic astrology and with people who follow Claire Nakti.

For example, with her, I love how she uses art and real life people as examples but she too can make mistakes. And she has, and if she discovers them, she adds them as disclaimers in her descriptions.

I think sometimes she can be narrow with her observations, which isn't necessarily bad, but when people see those as undisputably true and more important than their own or other astrologers' observations, then it is.

For example, she made 3 videos about Bharani but I still think she missed some important themes because she was stuck on providing more and more detail for the same point😭

Trusting influential astrologers blindly and quoting/paraphrasing them to prove their own points is a real epidemic.

Just fyi, crediting them while proving their point with your own examples is not the same.

So, anyone can make mistakes, and everyone should be open to changing their mind, but never without real examples and proof.

6. Style over substance

Possibly the biggest problem that is the root of most of other problems in this "community".

The reason why astrology became pop is because of simplifications and, more importantly, flashy images and words.

I've already made a post about how harmful I think the irresponsibility of sharing faulty astrological info is. I'm disturbed by all that manic energy around a thing that should be low-pressure but valid and educational.

I don't think astrology is meant to help you make desicions in a direct way, or to be used as the ultimate filter to judge others and look at the world. It's not the end-all be-all truth at all, not at all. But it is something that a lot of people take seriously and I just have little to no respect for blogs that use AI or don't care for logic or facts.

People here can argue and defend AI in astrology😭 they can irresponsibly make contradictory statements, have no verified observations of their own whatsoever and still act like the expert while interacting or posting.

That's all I wanna say about this right now.

...

Comment, reblog, message me, like even, whatever. I want to know what others think about any of this.

[kowbelll]

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

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

A Date Before Midnight 🎉

Word count: 2,001

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really? You too?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Basically?”

“Kind of. Almost.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I told you; it was the razor!”

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

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

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

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

“10, 9...”

“Stiles?”

With a shaky jaw, he bit his lip.

“...8, 7...”

“What’s wrong?”

“...6, 5, 4...”

“Stiles-”

“...3, 2...”

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

Her jaw went slack.

“...1! Happy New Year!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dontmentionitseriously]

𝙿𝚊𝚕𝚖 𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙿𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜 (𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎)

~☆☆☆~

Part Two

Pairing: Dipper Pines x Female Reader

Word count: 2k

Summary: You spend the Summer in Gravity Falls because your parents are kind of tired of your behavior. It's Dipper's and Mabel's fourth Summer in Gravity Falls. You're both technically from California, but different ends of it. So it's almost like fate (or a certain...writer) brought you two together. Part one of five(?).

Warnings: A couple of curses here and there, and one mention of divorce.

~☆☆☆~

"Ah, Summer Break. A time for leisure, recreation, and 'takin 'er easy'. ...Unless you're me."

-Dipper Pines, Tourist Trapped

Now, that was said by Dipper in a different context, several Summers ago, but it still can be applied here. Because, my dear reader, this Summer was supposed to be about leisure and recreation and all that for Dipper Pines, but of course it all had to be completely ruined when one particular girl came to Gravity Falls...

Dipper and Mabel Pines sat in the eighth row of a Speedy Beaver bus heading for Gravity Falls, Oregon. Dipper had recently resolved to have a stress-free, relaxing, normal Summer for once, and Mabel had sworn off trying to woo boys. Even though they could’ve gone to Los Angeles, or Baja, or someplace way more exciting (like too many of their peers), money had been tight since their parents’ divorce, and Gravity Falls had become something of a cheap tradition.

And so, there they were, hunkering and clinking along toward that all-too-familiar backwater town in the middle of the woods; toward Grunkle Stan and Ford, toward Wendy and Robbie, and, most of all, toward all the strange anomalies that were routinely overlooked. Dipper read a boring book on foraging for edible mushrooms in East Asia, while his sister blasted an extremely overplayed playlist of extremely overplayed songs into her ears beside him. It was so loud that he could actually hear all the lyrics, and it was making it very hard for him to concentrate on the already mind-numbing book.

He sighed in irritation.

Mabel failed to notice.

He sighed again, louder.

She deliberately turned up the volume, if that was even possible.

To his mild surprise, the next song on queue was Girly Icelandic pop sensation BABBA’s top hit ‘Disco Girl’, which harbored both good and embarrassing memories for him. Despite that, though, he found himself faintly humming along to the lyrics. Mabel did too, until Dipper corrected her on a lyric and they launched into a dumb and long argument about whether the song was talking about trampolines or tambourines.

Meanwhile, you were, by chance, three cars behind their bus, not listening to your dad ramble on about the death of disco and the rise of metal in the late 70’s, and all the nuances and mini-feuds that went on between bands.

“But that part was just for attention–are you even listening?” He cut himself off once he caught sight of you staring out the window boredly in the mirror.

“Huh?” You asked stupidly, zoning back in.

“Are you listening?” He repeated himself sarcastically now, raising an eyebrow in an unimpressed manner. 

“Uh…no…?” Came your response, and you smiled sheepishly at his exasperated sigh.

“Of course.” He said simply, and a short silence followed in which you foolishly thought you were off the hook, until he started a lengthy lecture about quality time and how you should at least pretend to care about his interests. (In retrospect, this particular argument was quite ironic.) During that lecture, you found yourself zoning in and out again, half listening to your father’s ranting, and half daydreaming about the wondrous things you could get up to with ten weeks of sloppy adult supervision.

To spare you the head-banging boredom that ensued between those two vehicles in the next three-and-a-half hours on the way to Roadkill County, I’ll skip the story forward to the part where you had arrived.

*Cheesy fast-forwarding sounds*

Ah, finally, fresh air.

You stepped out of your family car and stretched out your arms, yawning widely. You made your way over to the trunk, popping open the cover and pulling out your suitcase with a bit more effort than you’d like to admit. Some called it ‘unnecessary packing’ –namely, your dad–, but you called it being prepared. I mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t pack underwear like they’d be shitting themselves daily?

Speaking of which, what you weren’t prepared for, but probably should’ve seen coming, was your heavy-ass suitcase slipping out of your grasp and tragically colliding with the ground. It elicited a deep thud from the asphalt when it landed, and split open comically, spilling its contents. You swore angrily as you dove to retrieve it, shoving your clothes back in and forcing the lid shut.

“Damn cheap suitcase,” You complained bitterly, blaming the manufacturer instead of yourself–because you were quite obviously not the one at fault here.

Your dad snickered at your situation instead of doing the fatherly thing and helping you out, to which you just rolled your eyes and made a face at him.

“Need any help with that?” He joked, smiling widely at you.

“I’ll have you know that,” You began defiantly, pausing to grunt as you dragged the suitcase upright with herculean effort, “That I…yeah, probably.”

You both burst out laughing, and he helped you move your stuff into the lobby of the motel you were to stay at for a couple of nights until girls’ camp started.

Ugh, right. Camp.

Now, for a little background information; let’s just say you were a bit unruly this year, and instead of spending the Summer at home with your friends, like usual, going to the beach and enjoying the weather in Sunny SoCal…your punishment for your behavior was to be shipped up to Oregon to go to a cheap girls’ camp that only lasted for about three weeks. The remaining portion of your precious Summer was to be spent with your aunt Susan, working part-time at her diner. (No hot-girl Summer for you, you supposed…)

Now, you loved your aunt dearly, but she was a little, well, ‘eclectic’ to say the least. So you were just a bit apprehensive about staying seven weeks in her kind-of-untidy-cat-ridden-super-outdated house, but you figured it would feel like Caesar’s Palace after a musty motel mattress and itchy cabin cots by the lake.

You just hoped you wouldn’t catch lyme disease.

“Name and reservation, please?” The young man at the front desk asked a second time with a tad of impatience, snapping you out of your main character internal monologue.

“Oh! Right, sorry…”

~☆☆☆~

After your dad helped you check into the small room you had booked, it was time to say goodbye. He was never really great at those.

“Dad, will you please stop bawling? I’ll see you in ten weeks,” You reasoned, although you also felt the slight, sentimental urge to cry and hug him tightly.

“I just can’t believe my baby girl is all grown up!” He sniffed, and you half-groaned, half-laughed.

“Not quite,” You replied, guiding him toward the car.

Five minutes later, you were still saying your last goodbyes, which was mostly you reassuring him that you had absolutely everything you needed.

“Yes, dad, I have my phone, wallet, room key, journal, clothes, backpack, money, food, and the teddy bear from the gas station,” You exasperated after he asked you for what felt like the millionth time in 24 hours.

“Alright, honey. I love you,” He sighed sadly, wiping his cheeks.

“Love you too, Pop.”

And with a final hug and kiss and wave, your father was off. You watched him back up out of the driveway and disappear down the road with increasingly misty eyes.

~☆☆☆~

With a mixed emotions sigh and a short arm stretch, you flopped into the semi-uncomfortable mattress in your motel room and reached for the TV remote.

Deciding to shirk your unpacking for a while and see what the local media of Gravity Falls had to offer, you flipped through the channels with increasing disinterest. News (or lack thereof), bootleg Food Network, some old cartoons, a low budget mystery movie, an even lower budget drama, and pure static. You groaned at the realization that you’d have to un-shirk your duties instead, grabbing your phone and plugging in some earbuds to help you through the mountainous task of getting yourself set up. No free wi-fi, so you’d have to listen to your downloaded music…great.

After checking the teeny tiny room for hidden cameras (stay safe, kids!), making sure the toilet, shower, and sink worked, and whipping up a weak cup of luke-warm cocoa with the cheap coffee maker, you finally went through your stuff to double-check that you did indeed have everything. Turns out that you (conveniently) forgot your Summer reading, but remembered all the essentials. Whatever, that would be a problem for future you, who would kick your ass if she could.

The sun was setting now, casting a soft orange light through the window and illuminating the tops of the pine trees of the nearby forest. It was really picturesque, so you snapped a couple photos and sent them to your mom with a text letting her know that you had made it all in one piece. You smiled at her immediate response.

‘Looks beautiful, honey! Stay safe ♥️’

You threw away your empty paper cup and scrolled through your camera roll for a while, having nothing better to do. After that, you lazily brushed your hair and teeth and changed into your bedclothes, opting for an early-ish night for once. It was now 8:43 PM, which was a pretty decent time to hit the hay. And that mattress definitely felt like hay.

It was a rough night for you, to put it lightly. You dragged yourself out of the covers at 7:08 AM without prompting, just glad to have those hours of tossing and turning and annoyingly loud bed springs over with. At least you’d catch breakfast.

…Ew.

You weren’t expecting anything, and yet it still managed to disappoint. Limp sausages and overdone scrambled eggs with bland cornflakes and suspiciously watery, translucent milk constituted your breakfast. You forced it down with a hefty serving of cheap ketchup, since there were no adults around to judge you (besides the staff). The only decent thing about it was the several cups of apple-flavored water they labeled as ‘juice’ that you downed. 

‘Welp, glad that’s over.’ You mentally sighed as you left the lobby and took the elevator back to your room. Pushing open the door, you made for the bathroom to get ready for the day. A few hours out to see exactly what kind of town you were staying in for three months seemed obligatory. So, with teeth brushed, face washed, and hair adequately styled, you changed into some comfortable, casual clothes and your favorite pair of shoes. You almost forgot deodorant, like always, but managed to remember after you stuffed your crossbody bag with all your going-out stuff. 

With a quick glance in the mirror to ensure you didn’t look like holy hell, you rode the elevator back downstairs and walked outside, breathing in the fresh air. Southern California air was sometimes polluted, sometimes fresh, but it seemed that the small-town Oregon air up here was pristine, virgin even. As if the trees didn’t know the meaning of smog.

You stood there for a moment before realizing you had no idea where anything was. You opened your phone to check Floogul Maps, only to be greeted with the wonderful news that there was no mapping in this part of the woods, meaning you’d have to ask the locals for directions. Yay…

Sheepishly stepping back inside, you approached the middle-aged lady at the front desk.

“Hi there, I’m new here and have no clue where to go,” You began somewhat awkwardly, offering a bit of a smile. “Can you give me some directions to town?”

“Oh, of course, dear!” She replied kindly, telling you the following directions: ‘Go left to the signpost at the end of the driveway, then follow Elken street until you see the Sundollars coffee shop. From there, turn right and you’ll be at the center of town.’ You gave her your thanks and returned outside, looking around for the signpost and repeating the directions over and over to yourself.

Being a bit directionally challenged, it took a little while longer than expected to get there, but sooner or later you arrived at the familiar chain coffee stop. 

“Even in the middle of nowhere, you can count on having a Sundollars,” You remarked to yourself before turning right.

Only, you weren’t able to turn right, because you collided with a wall. No, actually, not a wall, fleshier than that–a person!

~☆☆☆~

Author's Note: Well, I hope you liked it so far! If you couldn't tell, Sundollars and Floogul Maps are re-brandings of Starbucks and Google Maps respectively. I'm just doing this because it's insanely funny to me and it seems universe-appropriate. Sorry if it's too short or long or wordy or whatnot, I'm still figuring out my writing style and this is my very first published piece of fanfic. If you have any thoughts, feel free to let me know!

Kind regards,

-DMIS

[red-sneakers]

Every night, Izuku has nightmares about almost losing Katsuki in the war. He can’t get a good night’s sleep. It’s affecting his training.

One night, after a particularly awful nightmare, he can’t take it anymore. He takes his pillow and blanket, goes to Katsuki’s room, and knocks on the door.

Katsuki opens it to find Izuku with puffy eyes and streaks of tears still running down his cheeks and neck. Izuku goes on a blubbering, stuttering mutter-rant, asking Katsuki if he “could sleep in Kacchan’s room, but I’ll sleep on the other side of the room on the floor, so you won’t even know I’m there, really, I’ll be quiet, I just need to hear Kacchan’s breathing so I know —“ Katsuki cuts him off by yanking him into a tight hug.

Wordless, because Katsuki knows what Izuku *really* needs to hear, he invites Izuku into his bed and gets him to use his chest as a pillow - so Izuku can hear his heartbeat. The nightmares stop.

The next evening, Izuku thinks he’ll try and be brave. He won’t bother Katsuki in the middle of the night, even though it was wonderful spending the night in Kacchan’s arms.

After getting ready for bed in the communal bathroom, Izuku starts heading for his own room, but Katsuki grabs him by the wrist, leads him to *his* room, and yanks him into bed with him. It’s WAY earlier than Izuku usually goes to sleep, but he doesn’t care; he’s too elated (and relieved) to be in Kacchan’s arms again.

When Katsuki’s breathing starts to slow, something comes over Izuku, and he can’t help but press a soft kiss on his warm cheek. Katsuki mumbles a half-asleep “night, ‘zuku.”

This becomes an every night situation. Every night, Izuku sleeps in Katsuki’s bed, and every night he kisses Katsuki’s cheek before they both drift off. Nothing much else about their relationship changes, except that Izuku is MUCH better rested. Brighter eyes, pinker cheeks, more energy. His friends notice.

One night, when Izuku is going for his nightly cheek kiss, Katsuki turns his head at just the right moment, and their lips meet. Izuku doesn’t know if it’s an accident or not. He pulls away quickly and hides his face in Katsuki’s shoulder, heart racing, frozen with uncertainty until Katsuki mumbles his usual, “night, ‘zuku.” Izuku still doesn’t know if the kiss was an accident or not, but at least Katsuki’s not mad about it.

The next night, Katsuki turns his face again. It’s not an accident. The kiss isn’t lingering. It’s barely more than a peck, but it makes the butterflies in Izuku’s stomach go crazy all the same. He snuggles a little closer that night. He lets himself trace the contour of Katsuki’s collarbone over his soft t-shirt, and Katsuki runs his fingers through Izuku’s curls.

So this is their life for a while. They act relatively normal throughout the day, if you can call their usual dynamic “normal,” that is. A little more than rivals. A little more than friends. Sitting at different lunch tables. Always next to each other in class. Throwing one-liners back and forth all day, but rarely having lengthy conversations. Sharing a kiss and a bed every night.

Okay I gotta stop or I’m gonna write a whole fic lmao

[sultrysnail]

My Favorite

Monsterlist Here

Word Count: 1,500+

Themes: merman x gn!reader, no prior relationship, first kiss, sign language, favoritism, swimming, holding breath beneath water, sfw, romance.

Notes: Divider by @/firefly-graphics. Putting on a wet wetsuit sucks. I always think about the way sounds work differently in water, so I thought I'd follow suit with "The Shape of Water" and incorporate sign language into the equation.

Venturing deeper into the aquarium, the false light from the climate controlled tank flittered against the rounded glass and made the water turn a radiant blue. All soft and hard corals and began to glow beneath the blue hue, vibrant displays of neon greens and bright purples eclipsing the backdrop of brown rock to the back of the aquatic display. 

Walking towards the glimmering surface of the pool, you slowly dip your reef-socks against the surface and dampen the bottom hem of your wetsuit. Looking down into the water, you spot the outline of a scaly tail swatting at the sand in a bored flap of petulant displeasure. 

“Where’s my favorite?” you hummed down at the water, lowering your voice in a soft coo as you sat at the water’s edge. Almost immediately the water splashed and revealed the form of your web-handed, scale-covered, aquatic companion wearing a disgruntled pout on his features. Hovering over to the edge beside you, he motioned with several gestures on his hands without moving his lips. 

“You are late,” his hand gestured, his top lip curling back to reveal his jagged and pointed teeth, “Not your favorite.” You smile at him, shaking your head and softly reaching to caress his cheek. He flinches away from your touch and glares up at you through his eyelashes. 

“Oh, come now,” you scold him with a laugh in your tone, “I was maybe ten minutes late, fifteen if I’m pushing it.” He scoffs and gestures to the large analog clock plastered against the wall with his right hand before fluttering his webbed fingers back at you. 

“Twenty-five,” he informed you, his eyes narrowing and glaring at you through his lengthy eyelashes, “Twenty-five minutes. Not your favorite.” You slouch your shoulders and shake your head at him, gently kicking your feet beneath the water. Looking over to the clock, you notice that he was correct: you were a full twenty-five minutes late in meeting with your favorite merman.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you huff out your apology in a soft whisper, “I got caught up with getting the silly wetsuit on. The one I usually wear was borrowed by the other linguistics worker before I started, and you have no idea how hard it is to squeeze these things on when they’re damp.” He swam over to you, shaking his head and glaring at you with rounded eyes. His damp hair clung to his face in patchy strands, prompting him to swat it away from his eyes.

“You want forgiveness?” he asked you with his hands, a condescending glare to depict his attitude was plastered on his face. You nod at him in response, and he scoffs at you immediately thereafter.

“No forgiveness,” he gestured at you, prompting you to lull your head on your shoulders and groan at him. He tapped at your knee to draw back your attention to him and continued to scold you with his hands, “Not your favorite. Have other Aqua here more favorite. No more favorite. I wait long, you here late.” 

“Please,” you ask him, gently clasping your hands over his scale-covered wrists to halt his ranting, “I promise I tried to get here as fast as I could. You know how much I adore you, and you are my favorite.” He pouts and shrugs your hands off his wrists before slotting his torso up between your knees and glaring deeply into your eyes. 

No matter how long you have known this merman, you always forget how much larger he is than you. He is tall, his shoulders muscular and broad, his biceps and forearms lean but holding an otherworldly strength you had never seen meet its equal. His face was topped with slightly raised divots and welts in the shape of glimmering scales to his forehead, jaw and cheekbones that tracked down the outside of his arms, over his spine and ribs and down to his tail. 

You widen your eyes as you slowly take in his appearance closer, his scowl morphing to an expression of confusion and curiosity as his gaze darts all over your face. 

“Why face?” he gestured with his hands before pointing to your eyes, “Eyes big. Have fear? Nervous?” You close your eyes and attempt to stifle your fluster and embarrassment. 

“No, not fear. You’re just-...” you attempt to bite back your desire and hide the flush pooling in your cheeks. Looking back up to meet his eyes, you decide to bare your heart in the name of inter-humanoid relational cooperation and be honest with your aquatic counterpart, “...You’re very handsome, and you’re very close to me right now.” 

He cocks his head to the side before moving in closer to you, his scaled hips slotting between your thighs and drawing the two of you even closer. 

“Handsome?” he gestures, his digits gesturing to himself before waving his dominant, webbed-hand between you both, “Attraction?” You suck your lips into your mouth and slowly nod in a soft, bashful bob. He places his hand on your face, the webbed skin and scaled fingertips feeling foreign on your features. 

“Kiss?” he gestured to you before he smirks at you with a cocky grin. His sharp teeth glinted in the blue light as he bobbed his head in a playful wiggle to taunt you before signing, “Kiss forgiveness?” You huff out a soft laugh at him, shaking your head and giving his shoulders a gentle shove. 

“That would not be very appropriate,” you giggle at him, looking down to where your hands remain on his torso and noticing how his aquatic pectorals seem to dwarf you. Your fluster grows further as he grips your wrists in a soft circle over each side and caresses your skin with a circular gesture. 

He looks down and lowers his head to chase your gaze as you attempt to avoid him with your eyes. Bobbing his head down, he nudges your chin with the crown of his head to move your eyes up. Meeting his gaze once more, he smiles genuinely at you and moves forward to brush his nose against yours playfully before releasing your wrists. 

“Kiss,” he signed with a soft nod, gripping your wrists and manipulating your hands to sign them along with him, “K, I, S, S. Kiss. Want kiss. Kiss forgiveness, kiss means favorite.” You laugh at him before shaking your head and using your own hands to gesture with his in the same way he did with yours.

“You want a kiss in payment of your forgiveness, because you need assurance that you’re still my favorite?” you witness him enthusiastically nod, his tail flickering beneath the water’s surface in gleeful anticipation. You sigh with a soft smile and bite back your inhibitions with a simple confirmation of, “Okay. I’ll kiss you.” He immediately releases your hands from his and places his webbed digits on your thighs to hoist himself up further. 

A small squeak is all you manage to release before his lips capture yours beneath his. His lips feel cooler than yours, his coarse tongue immediately darting out to brush with yours in a deep oscillation. Rolling his chin, he mouths at you and is careful in displaying his raw emotion against your much smaller and more delicate frame. 

His jaggared teeth threaten to puncture your lips as he sucks and licks at you with passion and longing depicted in every motion. Your hands hastily draw themselves up to find purchase against his shoulders, as he forces himself upwards to compress himself as tightly as he could against your chest. His body encumbers and overwhelms yours with his sheer size, his hands darting around your hips and gently lifting your body off the edge of his pool towards him.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he lowers the both of you beneath the water, your lips never breaking as your body adjusts to the compression and swelling of the water covering your head. He breathes into you, his lungs expanding yours and releasing his oxygen to keep you with him longer. He angles his chin to switch positions, spinning you gently beneath the waves as his tail flickers around you in complete joy. 

Pulling away, you look at him as he releases you from his embrace and allows you to become comfortable wading beneath the surface. Your feet slowly peddle to hold you close to his eye-level, your hands gesturing between you and signing to him beneath the water. 

“Am I forgiven for being late?” you ask, holding your breath as you anticipated his response. The deep baritone of his chuckle echoed within the water, his smile painted across his lips offering such a softness as he reached out to caress your cheek.

“I forgive you,” he spoke, his lips moving and propelling a soft expulsion of soft bubbles from his lips, “Need air?” You softly bob your head, expecting him to swim you both back up to the surface. In lieu of flicking his fin and drawing you back up, he swims closer to you and captures your lips with his once again, expanding your lungs with oxygen and smiling against your lips. 

After pulling away, he gazes longingly down at you and asks you sweetly, “Am I still your favorite?” You nod at him with a soft smile on your lips, your hands gesturing to him enthusiastically.

“Yes. You are still my favorite.”

"Good," he responds in kind, pinching your chin in his thumb and webbed fingers, "Because you are mine too."

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Hello! I've been reading your drabbles and works since 2 years ago (with a year gap cause at the time I lost interest in one piece for a bit) and I wanted to say that I adore the work you do! It's honestly so rare to find fics with platonic relationships as usually there's only romantic or nsfw stuff in the tags I browse, which isn't really my thing (no shade to other creators of course! it's just not what I prefer) so your blog is like a haven Not to mention the amount of work and dedication you put into everything you write! The story, the accurate characterization, the dialogue, the plot, everything is just 😚👌 CHEFS KISS Even though I'm currently not into one piece, I still love to read your works just because of how much of an incredible writer you are. It's almost stress-reducing in a way Anyways- sorry for the long rant, I just wanted to ask that since you wrote for Straw hats, Red Hairs, and Whitebeards, which ones would you rank best to worst as platonic!yanderes? I'd honestly choose Red Hair as the best just because they seem the most lax about everything. They let you do your own thing and won't bother you (much), and the only rule in place is that you're not allowed off the ship unless you're accompanied by shanks or someone he trusts to protect youThe middle ground are the Whitebeard pirates. They're definitely pushy and have more rules for you, but I do think the majority of the crew is okay. Sadly I gave up on One Piece before the Whitebeard pirates were introduced so I'm not sure what else to say 😔

The worst in my opinion are the Straw Hats. I'm not sure whether you'll hate my opinion on this but hear me out 😭😭 Every single member is chaotic in their own way. I'd rank Luffy, Nami, and Usopp as the worst because they're more energetic, more demanding, more expectant, and after a while they're kind of exhausting to be around. Sanji and Chopper are middle ground since they're more on the calmer side, but they have their flaws. The best ones would have to be Robin and Zoro as they're not completely crazy for you and wouldn't meddle in your business, but they always keep watch of you

I know there are more members but again, I wasn't introduced to them so I won't write how they're like since I don't want to mischaracterize

But wow.... I honestly didn't expect to write this much for an ask. I hope the amount I wrote doesn't bother you cause I know that the tumblr format sucks with showing a lot of words… But if you do interact then I want to say thank you! I’ll continue to read whatever you publish because you’re actually so talented 🙏🙏

AAAAAA THIS IS SO SWEET

Trust me, I'm not going to complain about someone sending me a lengthy message, I'm just flattered that you have so many kind things to say about my writing! Also it's absolutely insane that you dropped One Piece but are still read my fics. Like what do you mean I'm able to hold your attention better than Oda himself?? You're giving me an ego.

While I do enjoy writing romantic stuff, I think I'll always have a preference toward platonic relationships. Especially when it comes to yandere content since platonic yanderes are what really dragged me into the whole yandere fandom in the first place. So worry not, there will never be a long term absence of it here!

As for your question about ranking those crews from best to worst to have, I do agree with the Straw Hats being the worst, but I would switch The Whitebeard's and Red Hair's around.

I would put the Whitebeard's as the least bad because (and I'm assuming you don't care about spoilers since you dropped the series) if you really want out, well, almost all of them die. Eventually it'll just be you and Marco, and he's pretty lax most of the time; though he would definitely be a little clingy after losing basically his entire family. Depending on how attached you would get, this could also make it the worst, but your wording implies that this involves a very unwilling darling. Even when they're all alive, at worst you'll just feel like you're stuck with a very doting helicopter family. Yeah there are rules, but none of them feel particularly harmful since they generally pertain to your health and safety.

The Red Hair's are in the middle because that crew would give me a damn headache! The ship smells like a frat house in the absolute worse way, everyone is drinking and trying to drag you into their partying, and everyone is so over-powered that you have no chance of escaping for any meaningful length of time. The only thing keeping them from being worse is the fact that they're already so established with Shanks being an Emperor that they don't really get up to that much.

Unlike the worst crew, the Straw Hat's, who are toppling governments and fighting fucking everyone every damn week. Not only are they an inescapable crew, but they also drag you into their bullshit constantly, so you can't even relax. Then there are all of the wild personalities on board. Robin, Zoro, and Jimbei are all consistently pretty chill. Brook, Franky, and Chopper can be handfuls but not consistently. Luffy, Nami, Usopp, and Sanji are all velcro-yanderes that won't leave you the hell alone.

Thank you again for the lovely message! This really made my day! <3