#who the fuck else would say fucking ‘domicile’

[yeehawgeek]

whatre we gonna do if cx-2 is just some rando? what are we gonna do if this season ends and tech is still dead?

[eriexplosion]

Okay so. I cannot take it seriously when people say that we weren't led to think CX-2 was Tech. Because no we were not just having foreshadowing of the creation of an Evil Bad Batch. The clues led directly to Tech.

We have to start with the fact that they didn't kill him off definitively. Start with his survival being debated (and there's no way they didn't know it would be debated because I choose to believe they are not stupid) then introduce a character that lasts suspiciously long and has weirdly intense beef with Crosshair and you already are inclining people towards believing this is Tech.

CX-2 goes through a speedrun of Tech scenarios with 1. the leg crushed by a heavy falling object, similar to Ruins of War 2. knocked over by an explosion leaving him dangling above the abyss from a line like Plan 99 3. going over a waterfall and crawling out in a shot that completely matches the scene from The Crossing.

One or two of these is a coincidence, all three together less so.

Plan 99 notes mixed into The Battle of the Snipers. Which the Kiners only explained as the notes 'sounding good in brass' and nothing else.

He gets distinctly Tech like dialogue and no I don't just mean 'domicile' though we do have to acknowledge that no one else in Star Wars uses this word on the regular. We also have the exact match of 'Who are you' to Decomissioned, and the matching of 'I have simply cut off her means of escape' to Tech regularly saying 'I am simply-' when explaining himself, which again is something no one else in the show shares. Tech has a distinct way of speaking that matches CX-2, especially as of Point of No Return. (And CX-2 doesn't really sound like Crosshair, because Crosshair is just straight up not as chatty as CX-2 and never has been.)

He gets a long, unnecessary scene with Phee where he suddenly forgets how to be a murder assassin and starts playing soft.

He doesn't shoot Hunter when he has a chance and chooses to instead shoot his own man, he doesn't blow up the Marauder while Wrecker is inside, and when Omega surrenders he opts to just wait for her to hand him her communicator. He doesn't even shoot Shep when Shep starts talking back to him, all of which indicated that maybe for whatever reason he didn't want to, bolstering the Tech theories.

Getting into an opinion rather than analysis here but: Evil Bad Batch is a stupid fucking idea, it serves no purpose whatsoever other than a cool boss fight that adds nothing to the story. Having a CX be someone, anyone they actually cared about would have been interesting and actually played into the themes of family and forgiveness that were set up earlier in the season. Instead it's just more people to kill off to zero interesting payoff. It's stupid.

Every person I spoke to offline thought that this was Tech. All of them. People that have never looked on social media, watched a theory video, anything. All thought CX-2 was Tech and were confused when he was speared. This was not terminally online theorizing gone wild, this was a very widespread thought and assumption.

So, if they didn't mean to do any of that and at no point intended to imply this was Tech and were solely trying to foreshadow their 5 minutes of Evil Batch fight? They did it poorly. When the majority of your audience actively believes you are leading to one direction only for it to be some other direction that you meant to lead them to, the problem is not The Audience Didn't Read It Right, the problem is you wrote it badly.

[notmorbid]

the silt verses, pt. 1.

dialogue prompts from eskew productions' the silt verses.

there are people who are born to the land, and people who are born to water.

someone made a sacrifice, but the angels never came.

they'll never know we were here.

we leave no trace that can't be swallowed up.

come on. i want a goddamn cappuccino.

a god must feed. a god must be fed.

i am already so very tired.

i grew up somewhere like this, you know?

are you sulking?

you don't need to be so offensively blatant.

could you go back to saying you're sorry?

after the stories i've heard, i think i was a little in awe of you.

i'd genuinely like to know more about you. i'd like us to get to know one another.

ask me anything you'd like.

what's your read on ____?

when did you first find your faith? what caused it?

you did say i could ask you anything.

we shouldn't have come out here.

my phone isn't working. i need to use yours.

it's a long time since i've been happy.

i hate you. i've always hated you.

i don't understand what's happening to me.

i don't want to have this conversation.

i'm so proud of you, darling.

people always seem to underestimate ___.

there's nothing false about ___.

nobody'd ever told me that before. that i could be good.

you can come in. i'm not afraid of you.

everyone wants a personal relationship with the divine, but none of us are prepared for the consequences.

i've been here before. i know the signs.

how would you define a domicile?

i didn't say i didn't remember.

tell me more. i think i might understand.

i thought people were supposed to leave notes for each other.

this isn't something anyone should have to deal with.

sometimes when you can't put an end to things, it's better just to keep them stable.

i can't see you, but you're everywhere around me.

i think about you plenty.

you need to talk to me.

you think you don't deserve to be happy? i'm here, and i'm telling you that you do.

if there is a god haunting this place, i don't think it's mine.

you can never quite get away from people, can you?

we're all in danger, and you're wasting my time.

the sun is setting, and these woods are a place you can get lost. that is a certainty.

catch up or stay behind, that's up to you.

is it like you remember it, coming back here?

everything's so overgrown here. it's like this place wants you to lose your way.

there's them that lead, and them that chase.

i need quiet, and space to think.

we're both going to die here.

it's almost funny.

drive, you fool! drive!

they always want answers of you, don't they? i never know what to tell them.

you were back late last night.

you thought you were being subtle?

that sort of thing happens in other towns, but not here.

no escape is truly clean, but at least once you've left, you don't have to look at the mess.

the more people who know the story, the worse it gets.

we each get to choose the thing that eats us.

the things we see when we're young root into us like nothing else.

i dislike people who talk too much.

you should learn to pay attention when other people talk.

i shouldn't have to fight you to give you what you want.

you'll have to learn to live with other people.

what's a life without something to devote itself to?

i never expected to get this far.

you have to believe there's a plan here, or you could use your mind.

strange gods make for strong gods. make something too human, we'll know what to expect from it. something less human, we won't know what it's capable of achieving.

i don't see the use in being so cynical.

you're the best of us. you make me get up in the morning when i don't want to.

survival is not treachery, and i will not feel ashamed for it.

there is no meaningful change that comes without pain.

fucking up is more your vocation than your talent, isn't it?

you don't know what i'm capable of.

you didn't interest me before. you certainly don't frighten me now.

you might as well tell me. you're probably going to kill me, anyway, aren't you?

it takes long enough figuring out how to live with yourself, and then you have to figure out how to live with others.

do you recall when you were last happy? truly happy?

what's the use of a voice, if it goes unheard?

stories are snares, someone told me once.

i have never once known what i am doing.

i don't get out much.

nobody's ever caught me in a lie. they can't make it stick to me.

i have no intention of ever becoming a victim.

[notallthoseinheadspace]

Thoughts/speculation on The Bad Batch:

Weirdly, I am actually more hopeful for a positive ending now than I was before Point of No Return.

(Episode spoilers, discussion, and speculation below cut)

So, this is coming from a point of being pretty sure that A) CX-2 is Tech (because who the fuck else in this series says 'domicile", literally nobody, I was on the fence until that tbh) and B) that Omega is Force-sensitive (and that they've been dropping hints about it since Season 1). Even if she's not Force-sensitive, she's incredibly intuitive and has an amazing mind for strategy, which has been repeatedly proven.

But minor things that could have been guesses on her part - identifying Cid, calling out Crosshair while they're in the brig, bonding with Batcher, and in a way never giving up on Crosshair - also could be manifestations of a minor and untrained connection to the Force. If we do see indisputable Force abilities from her, my guess is they'll manifest in minor prescience, sensing the emotions of others, and bonding with creatures, since those are all things she's already shown. (I don’t think she has Jedi potential, but it bears repeating that not every Force-sensitive is or needs to be a Jedi! [Or a Sith.])

And Omega - tactical prodigy who can (probably) sense the emotions/general thoughts of others, is alone in the shuttle with CX-Tech. Possibly with some form of tracker - she and Crosshair knew she’d be scanned. She gave up one comm and wasn’t scanned again. Not having fallback plans would be unlike them, even if those plans are sometimes very much by the seat of their pants.

Because the Batch had plans for everything and Tech made her learn them all.

Now, what sticks out to me about CX-2 in this episode is that he has notably, despite orders, very deliberately avoided killing any of the Batch members during the invasion of Pabu.

It would have been no trouble whatsoever for him to blow up the Marauder a moment later, when Wrecker was inside of it. And he made the decision to shoot the pilot of the gunship - in the neck, through the cockpit window - an arguably harder shot than Hunter, who was in the open bay, and easily capable of bailing out and swimming back to shore when the ship crashed.

And he's taken Omega in the shuttle with him, with no other guards, and left her unrestrained in the cockpit aside from a pair of binders. And while she’s a child, and was pressed into docility during her time on Tantiss, she’s still a clone, one who’s been trained and tested by the team that boasted a 100% success rate until Order 66.

And, if CX-2 is Tech and the storyline is mirroring itself, then let’s go back to 2x09, The Crossing, where they’re trying to extract ipsium from Cid’s mine. Omega is struggling, Tech is set against his family, and quiet heart-to-hearts are had as Tech and Omega sit together in the blue-lit dark, separated from their brothers - which leads to reunions, solutions, and escape.

So - it may not be the devastating reveal of a helmet pulled from an unconscious-or-worse body that I originally imagined - it may be quiet, knowing questions and a helmet calmly lifted off and set on the console to look at his sister with his own eyes.

...of course, whether he still knows her or not is the question.

[solargazing]

sagittarius venus and jupiter appreciation post

sagittarius jupiter and venus are devotional as hell. devotion is about keeping your faith at a steady pace in moments of desperation. it’s about perservering without any obligation to.

sagittarius’s 4H is in its domicile there. it can devote for reasons that feel obvious for them. some can be heavy on worshipping their ancestors. the 6H is venus ruled, meaning, it keeps consistency with its principles. it does not backtrack into immorality when it is cornered. it is in its detriment in the 10th; others find these folks provocative because they are very trial and error (sometimes at the downfall of others). others also do not see or respect their devotion because of this.

Sagittarius in general are all or nothing. its only essential dignities are a domicile and a detriment, no exaltations or falls. their detriment is MERCURY. they cannot think through decisions for their life. in fact, i don’t think they should. their domicile in jupiter endows them with excellent intuition and luck. thank god sagittarius is mutable, right? there are no saturnian angles for the mutable signs; sagittarius feels less repercussions if they do fuck up. sagittarius is always working towards a bigger picture (much like jupiter) even if they realize it or not (this is more applicable to venus). no saturnian angles also gives them that “no obligation to anything ever” attitude

sag jupiter is described above to a T. sag venus, however, gets lost very easy. they are a peregrine venus. they need to look within themselves and love it, but they may have a harder time doing so. their life journey feels much more pointless than a sag jupiter would say for themselves. sag venus must remember that their 4H is exalted by venus.

sag venus, you must love where you come from and who you are on top of loving someone else. you must PREFER your own company. you must understand that you have the choice to build your own roots with the power of your 4H. you do not have to lean into your 10H and give a single fuck if people want to tell you or each other if you belong here or not

[ill-say-this-fast]

hey! since the poll ended a while ago, i would like to give my two cents in-

If the general public or the twin's social circle found out about their relationship, how badly would everyone react? Would it be like a pre-HOM situation where everyone is tryna persecute the maximoffs? how would the kids (Billy, Tommy, & Luna) play a role in all this? (and yes, let us all finally acknowledge that these three kids are (long-lost) siblings) #sc*arletv*s*on fans feel free to rage hehehe

Thanks for the ask :) theres a lot to say

In their close social circle I dont know how many people are actually shocked. But suspecting something youd never say outloud and being publically told it are different. It would be a negative reaction generally. I feel like superheros have got better things to do than actually attack them for it, exclude, sure, make nasty comments about, some people probably, but no ones gonna try and arrest them I dont think (definitely not pre-HOM 'maybe we should kill them' ideas). As Toby's said, Wanda's friends might be worried about her, especially those of them that dont like Pietro. But none of them are likely to accept it comfortably if she tells them she's happy. She might get quietly pushed out.

Now its different if the general public find out (who have less reason to already think it). That'll cause a lot of outrage, and the angry crowd will always be louder than the crowd that don't care. That demands a PR response and some of the other heroes would be obliged to either publicly denounce them, argue that its fine and there should be no legal consequences (unlikely), or argue that the evidence is fake.

Frankly Wanda and Pietro should probably be arguing that the evidence is fake. I imagine Wanda would just pretend nothings happened and try and go about her life. A lot of her social circle who were already doing the same about their suspicions might continue to. I can see a lot of the avengers doing that, especially if she's still working with them cuz she's a big asset as well as a friend. But the xmen and that lot, the periphery social circle, who like her less, are much more likely to take the opportunity to attack her.

Pietro doesnt have a lot of friends to lose. Or a lot of good public rep. I do think he'd tailor his general response to fit with Wanda's even if he wanted to tell everyone to go fuck themselves. I see Wanda wanting to keep out of the spotlight (this isnt a wrong of hers to earnestly take accountability for and make right, it's one of the most important things to her heart that people want to insult), and Pietro taking the spotlight for them if she thinks either of them should make a public statement. He'd get in a lot of scuffles about it, especially if people are saying unkind or crude things about Wanda to him to goad him about it. Magneto is more likely to be his problem, either gonna deny it or blame pietro but almost certainly deny especially publicly. Maybe hed try and set Wanda up with other people he approves of more like in ultimates lol.

Wanda wouldnt want to stop doing her helping people job even if the people were horrible. I cant see her running off with Pietro to live away from any hate really, even if he might prefer that. She'd rather negotiate (or magically influence) her way out of a prison sentence if anyone actually managed to bring a legal case against her and keep working even if that means alone now. Maybe move her official domicile to new jersey or rhode island or wherever cuz it wouldnt be a legal crime there even if everyone still hated it. She'd be sadder and lonelier but people leave her that way a lot and she keeps going.

The only thing that might get her really set against other people is if they start bullying her kids. They still have the shield of being magically created even though everyone's gonna be theorising they're Pietro's. (I can see Vision taking the opportunity to blame her and the kids being someone elses for their marriage problems which would add fuel to the fire.)

Billy would hold onto the magically created thing both as a public defence and internally cuz he would not want to think of himself as an incest baby, he might step away from Wanda for a bit to collect himself but he does idolise her. It would be good for him to get over that idolising and appreciate her more as a real person with human flaws and struggles and not his favourite celebrity, and maybe this situation would be a way for that to happen. Or maybe he'd get over the incest first and things would stay the same. Or maybe he'd so not get over it that he starts to feel negatively about her instead. I don't like that but it's possible for him. Especially if he's recieving negative attention, he doesnt handle that well, but also he's a baby god how many people want to test him.

Tommy would definitely fight people bad mouthing him mom in public. He's not worried about protecting his own reputation, he doesnt have a particularly good one and he sets himself against other people easily so what they think is worthless to him. I don't see him being bothered about Wanda and Pietro's relationship. Its more likely to drive him closer to his mom (and dad) because he's setting himself against the people who are against them. People giving him a hard time is nothing new, and he's gonna give worse back because he's vengeful like that, and he can blow things up. (Tbh I'd like Billy and Tommy to argue about it, that would be fun.)

Luna would be far less affected because she isnt their kid, just Pietro's. And she's more than used to people saying bad things about her dad. In-marriage doesn't seem to be taboo for Inhumans so thats not gonna bother her. Maybe the other kids at her school try and bully her about it, but she's more than capable of spilling all their secrets which might keep them in line, and as I said, it's not about her like it is her half-brothers. At the least though, it's another nail in the coffin for Pietro not getting custody if he tries to again.

[secretcherimaybe]

Hey buckaroo, or should I say, luckaroo because do I have the best news you are ever going to hear in your life: you just made seven billion dollars. It's not true, but it is good news so you're welcome. I'm not gonna lie, I have no idea who you are or what you're about but congratulations on being 33, I remember when my parents were 33 and I would think wow that's so old but honestly it'd creepin up on me pretty fast here and my parents are in their 40s now so that's cool I guess that's the new old and you're safe. Anyway, more importantly, I have a request to ask of you, beg even, should that so fancy your tickle, say bazinga, say bazinga or else I will find a real life actual elephant and I will tie it to a rocket and blast it into outer space (with a full sized elephant astronaut suit) and then it'll crash back down directly into your domicile (the elephant has high impact armor and will survive) so unless you wanna get orbitals bombarded by a real life elephant you'll say bazinga. This is a real threat I will fucking do it. I will. Don't try me.

Hey Broski,

I don't watch the blazinga show

But I'm glad your having fun!

[blackoutfeverdream]

Just livin' the no-boundaries-on-the-internet life.

No need to constrain confessional honesty when no one has any idea of who you are.

I hope the unnerving trend of personal overexposure I've seen from Gen Z members I've met online is curtailed.

I think they've become so habituated to a society that invades their world for everything

that has tracked and demografied and surveilled them and rejected their entitlement to basic privacy

they don't see how potentially dangerous it is in a system as vast and uncertain as the internet.

You can identify a generational divide from it.

In no way is this a claim to an original thought.

But still- it unsettles me they might never have a feeling of deserving what may be the last viable sincere outlet for the self left without personal repercussion.

I don't mean the dispensation to be an asshole without consequence.

I mean the very real need to be able to be unfiltered sincerely you! no matter how repulsive or different or whatever that might be so long as it doesn't cause proactive harm to others.

I know the things I write are deeply unpleasant

but you have fair warning. The work under Veronica Ayoob I place on the internet does not misrepresent its content.

I am that woman or at least the shape of the traumas on display.

Head-shrinkers are snitches and parents are indifferent and education is a moribund pretension and was when I was tortured systematically through it

there's nothing else to give them outlet and reprieve.

Parks are gone

shopping malls are ghost towns and their economics don't even accommodate fun anymore anyway

everything is privatized, closed, made assertively hostile to human life and especially youth.

And so they take to the last comparatively wild refuge.

The worst one possible.

The one that unlike most of society is filled with all the parental manias about fast-twitch corruption.

At least they should be able to approach it on their terms and informed.

We owe it to the youth to educate them about this.

The things I write here would get me committed involuntarily in many instances.

The things most people write behind screen of privacy would.

So kids and young adults should be knowledgeable about when just not to say a damn word.

"Shut the fuck up about this," "nobody needs to know this," "does it matter if I say this?"

those are crucial phrases to domesticate.

No one needs to know:

Your real age

your real gender (especially if you're trying out being trans on the internet)

your real wealth

your real domicility

your real family

your real life.

If you want to hyperrealize or fictionalize or metaphorize your life, do it. You owe no accountability to anyone unless your conduct might have real-world consequences.

Sometimes you do form attachments that transcend brief contact- that always is difficult.

My suggestion is that you forget about it. Online relationships should stay intellectual eroticism because the obstacles are too great unless you're literally in the same town and your lives will intersect on a regular basis.

Sexting

now that's a gamble. I'm a writer; I have expectations. Not insurmountable. More: At least contribute more than keymashing or mmmms and guttural nonsense.

You might meet me on the internet. Poor you.

It surprises me how forthcoming people are with personal information.

And for the paradoxical unreadability of idiosyncrasy, that's fine. If I learn you have a sister who loves mauve and you fucking hate that color, so what

but if you tell me your surname, your town, and your sister's given name

(this happened to me, it was unprovoked and unsettled me)

then I'm going to know who you are.

I'm innocuous. I'm not interested and not able to commit mischief. I'm so shy I have difficulty initiating conversations most of them time and so socially weird I might give a come-hither over discussions of the distinctive psychopathology of the National Socialist inner circle.

But some people aren't.

The issue is: Honesty is a challenging balance.

Because permanent paranoia will keep you safe but also isolated

but incaution could lead to some very horrifying things and those are not only rumors.

Be vigilant. You never can know everything about another person.

Serial killers have unsuspecting spouses.

But the more mutual confidence, at least the more sense. Don't just tell some weird trans woman from the internet where you live. God!

Not because of what I am, who I am, but because your security is precious.

You deserve it.

And we owe it to you to be on our best behavior as far as we can.

I think it's ridiculous for minors to advertise this- it will not keep away the creepers who prey on them and exposes far too much.

In private conversation, you just can say: I don't want to talk about this.

The internet is a fairly great place to develop basic social skills in setting boundaries, experimenting with different ways of interaction, and even the all-important act of simple binary agency: Yes or no.

Saying no here is easier than real life.

Saying yes also is.

Boundaries are about you- about what you'll accept, what you want, and what you reject. They're yours; they reflect you. You can't inflict their enforcement on others but you can make them clear so others can negotiate their interactions with you on an honest and informed basis.

Boundaries come with penalty only you can assess by personal action. You cannot punish another person for violating your boundaries on a non-criminal basis past social rejection- and that is your prerogative. It's crucial to learn this and the internet helps by physical separation. A verbally abusive internet boyfriend can be pushed off easy

but it helps the practice by familiarity.

Really, that's true of everything here if you don't get complacent.

It's a shallow simulation of humanity but it is better than nothing.

[notallthoseinheadspace]

Weirdly, I am actually more hopeful for a positive ending now than I was before Point of No Return.

(Episode spoilers, discussion, and speculation below cut)

So, this is coming from a point of being pretty sure that A) CX-2 is Tech (because who the fuck else in this series says ‘domicile’, literally nobody, I was on the fence until that tbh) and B) that Omega is Force-sensitive (and that they’ve been dropping hints about it since Season 1). Even if she’s not Force-sensitive, she’s incredibly intuitive and has an amazing mind for strategy, which has been repeatedly proven.

But minor things that could have been guesses on her part - identifying Cid, calling out Crosshair while they’re in the brig, bonding with Batcher, and in a way never giving up on Crosshair - also could be manifestations of a minor and untrained connection to the Force. If we do see indisputable Force abilities from her, my guess is they’ll manifest in minor prescience, sensing the emotions of others, and bonding with creatures, since those are all things she’s already shown.

And Omega - tactical prodigy who can (probably) sense the emotions/general thoughts of others, is alone in the shuttle with CX-Tech.

Who, notably, has deliberately avoided killing any of the Batch members during the invasion of Pabu. It would have been no difficulty whatsoever for him to blow up the Marauder a moment later, when Wrecker was inside of it. And he made the decision to shoot the pilot of the gunship - an arguably harder shot than Hunter, who was in the open bay, and easily capable of bailing out and swimming back to shore.

And he’s taken Omega in the shuttle with him, with no other guards, and left her unrestrained in the cockpit aside from a pair of binders.

So - it may not be the devastating reveal of a helmet pulled from an unconscious-or-worse body that I originally imagined - it may be quiet, knowing questions and a helmet calmly lifted off in the blue glow of hyperspace and set on the console to look at his sister with his own eyes.

…of course, whether he still knows her or not is the question.

I don’t get why y’all are so upset about Phee’s “lack of reaction” when she talked about Tech.

1) She’s a pirate. She has likely lost a lot of people she cares about, and has learned to accept it when it happens.

2) I don’t know why you guys think people who live in the Star Wars universe have the same access to mental health awareness that we do. You think Emperor Ballsack has some kind of “talk about mental health” initiative or some shit??

3) Yes, they were a flirty thing.. but they weren’t really a couple yet? Do y’all want her to be in full mourning regalia because her situationship yeeted himself?

4) She is actually much more mature than the Batch in an emotional sense. She has lived more of a life than they have, and she probably knows how to handle her emotions better. She probably moved on a while ago and learned to cope with Tech’s death.

[myriadxofxmuses]

[ CREATE ] for Em and Jace 👀

From X

The visions had been clouding her mind for months. Interrupting her sleep. Draining her focus. Forcing their way to the forefront of her mind, coming in flashes at random.  Emily couldn't rid herself of these cursed, headache inducing, irritants.

Not only that, but she couldn't go to anyone about them. Not Oscar. Not her friends. Not even some annoymous shrink on the local mental health hotline. She had become infected and had no one to go to for help. Letting it spill that ever since the meteor shower she had begun to see glimpes of someone else's life would do nothing except land her in federal prison. 

Or worse.

Instead she turned to the one thing that had always seemed to ease her mind - art. Her brow was furrowed in concentration. Emily's pencil scraped against the paper softly as she sketched out the images plaguing her mind.  Slowly the scenes came alive, one page after another, her fingers nimbly flipping to the next empty one once she'd filled the page with graphite.

Her shop was unassuming, unknown, and unlisted.  After Oscar' infection ravaged through his being, and the subsequent attempts to hide the scars left behind in proof of his newfound power, she decided to dediacte herself to help others inflicted by the alien entity making its way through humanity. 

The small, seemingly abandoned warehouse served its purpose every night after she stepped out of her real life and entered into the underground railroad of sorts for other infected - her tattoos hiding evidence of their respective sicknesses. It wasn't until recently that she had become afflicted by her own set of side effects.

She sat huddled on the floor of the makeshif tattoo shop, hunched over the sketchpad, unaware that another had entered her domicile.  As soon as his feet hit the threshold of the room she now occupied she felt a wave of acknowledgement wash over her.  Her chest tightened.  Her breathing slowed. Her pencil came to a stop, hovering above ts next point of contact.

"Not sure how you found this place, but the shop is closed," she spat out, pushing the growing feeling that she knew them and going back to her drawing.

The footsteps echoing down the small hall grew louder.  The scent of cigarette smoke began to fill the air. A chill ran up Emily's spine and her pencil stopped moving completely.

"Are you deaf or something?" she asked barely glancing over her shoulder. "I said the shop is closed," she reiterated, shutting her sketchbook and rising to face her unwanted guest.

She nearly froze when she caught sight of the man.  His features were lit dimly with each drag of his cigarette.  Ashy blond hair, slightly disheveled, falilng gently against his face.  He held an air of not giving a fuck. Something about him gripped at her, clenching on to her tighter and tighter with every passing second.  She quickly scanned what little skin was exposed and she saw no scars. No indication that he was one of the infected. He didn't seem to need a tattoo so why was her there?

"Something I can help you with?" she asked, gently clutching at her book tighter.

He motioned to the very item she held dear. "Heard you're an artist."

"Really? What gave it away?" she scoffed sarcastically.

"One that helps people. People that may be very...sick."

Her blood ran cold. "Who told you that?" she asked barely above a whisper.

"Does it matter?"

She remained silent.  Guess not. It was already too late if he was here to cause any kind of damage- whether to herself or her shop.

"What do you want?"

He pulled a picture from his vest's inner pocket.  "You do any work on her?" he asked showing it to Emily.

She shook her head.  She definitely would have remembered the red head.  The woman was beyond beautiful. She was striking to say the least.  A far cry from her usual clientelle of soccer moms and dad bods.

"Sorry you wasted your time," she started apologizing as she turned from him and made her way over to one of the stations and began feiging interest in picking up.

He slid the picture back to the safety of his pocket and followed Em, taking another drag of his smoke before dropping it and snuffing it out with his boot.

"Anything you can give me would help. And I mean anything."

"Look I don't know what you want from me," she began answering, dropping her sketchbook on the nearby table. "I haven't seen her.  I haven't done any work on her - here or othrewise.  I don't know anything about her."

Brazenly he began flipping through her drawings. "You sure about that?" he asked without bothering to look her way.

"Again," she continued, this time letting her frustration shine through her voice, her hand forcing her sketchbook shut. "Sorry I can't help you, but you'll have to look for your girlfriend somewher else.  She was never here," she finished definitviely.

His eyes finally met hers, full of confusion and shock.  "Is that so?"

"That's so," she told him, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Then explain this," he added, once again flipping through the book. 

This time he stopped on one of the more recent drawings - a sketch of some building near the desert. The place had  flashed through her mind a time or two when she had an attack. It had burned itself to memory and she had no choice but to just get it out.  Never had she expected anyone to recognize it.

"You know that place?" she asked her curiosity now piqued.

"I run that place," he told her, tapping the picture a few more times for added affect.

He breath was sucked from her lungs. The world around her began to fade away to nothing.  Time slowed.  

"What did you say?"

"I...run this place," he repeated, now holding up the drawing. 'I mean, it isn't exact, but hthat's my bike shop. You wanna tell me how you're doodling my place of business yet you have no idea who Clare is?" he asked tossing the book back down, slamming it shut in the process.

"I just....sometimes these thigns just....come to me," she exaplained vaguely, frantically flipping through the pages to find the drawing once more.

Her eyes concentrated on it, her attention solely focused on trying to place the repair shop.  It had come with a flash of motorcycles, that much checked out, but she had never seen him in her visions. She saw the bikes.  She saw the in and out of other men - some wearing leather vest with a blurry logo on the back, some not. The clanging and whirring of mechanics tools drifted to her ears as the vision began to pull itself from her memory.

"You said it isn't exact," she said bringing her eyes to his. "Fix it for me," she requested, holding out the book and a pencil to him.

This was the first time she had ever been close to any kind of clarity in regards to the unwanted scenes playing over and over.  She thrusted the book and pencil his way once more.  "Help me right this and I will tell you everything I know," she half lied. Although she knew nothing of this Clare woman, she was sure she could give him something useful for his search. "Please," she added, her tone much less confrontational and harsh. 

He sighed begrudgingly and took them from her and began to do his best to fix what she had forgotten.

[lexpressobean]

Sun Sign Astrology Lesson ft. Shino Aburame and Obito Uchiha: Aquarius Suns

The Sun Sign is THE sign people are asking for when they simply ask, "What's your sign?" And just like the sun, your sun sign is what shines through the most, big and hard to ignore, no matter what the rest of your natal chart looks like. The Sun symbolizes our Waking Consciousness and determines how we (for the most part) perceive and experience our world, and how we generally act unprovoked and without incentive.

The only real problem? Every Zodiac Sign has a Celestial Body Placement (planet, star, satellite, ect) that is their Domicile (Ruler), Exaltation (or Amplifier), Fall (Weakening) and Detriment (Opposer).

The Sun is Leo's Domicile, and the opposite of Leo is Aquarius which, in the Sun, is in Detriment. When a Sign is in Detriment/Opposed in a Placement, it's just REALLY difficult for that sign to function in that Placement's designated purpose or specialty. And that, my friends, is why Aquarius Sun individuals are so commonly seen as these unadjusted weirdos, right off the bat. The rest of the chart can balance the Aqua Sun out, but it's not a guarantee.

•••

So it stands to say that Shino Aburame, as an Aquarius Sun, is one of those oh so stereotypical, "quirky" and "rebellious" Aquarius. Those commonly described as "friendly but detached" in schmoozing magazines and trendy online articles.

Except, he doesn't come off as friendly at first. It's not that he's hostile or unfriendly. He's just blunt as a club and has no patience for tomfoolery. He is without a filter. Simply, he's most likely a Virgo Rising. Earth Signs in general are the most guilty of having RBF Syndrome (especially in the Rising Placement, which designates appearance/mannerisms/presence). Even if you can't clearly see Shino's face, you can tell very quickly Shino is the kind if person who is very much serious and stiff under all those layers. Despite that, he's very well put together and you can see he dresses for efficiency (hiding his Kikaichu and giving them room) as much as he does for fashion (he even dresses in earthy colors lol). The rest if the clan does this as well, though, so that could be a clan culture thing. Shino also has a very analytical way of speaking, and first impressions of him seem to mark him as nitpicky, careful, and a loner, which is out of comfort, not necessarily desire. Comfort and Practicality is what marks an Earth Sign. Compared to Virgo, Aquarians tend to be a lot more friendly and outwardly "eccentric" (and yeah, he is weird, even for an Aburame lol) but are also Independent and main Logic as Air signs. Being Independent and being a Loner aren't the same thing, but he ends up doing both in the beginning anyway.

In comparison, Obito Uchiha is very much an Aquarius full force, it shines through even his Rising, which I would wager to be a Leo Rising specifically, being both a Fixed and Fire sign. Aquarius is ALSO a Fixed Air sign, which can symbolize Fixed Ideoloy. Super stubborn, has to be right, and BOY does this dude really fixate on that poor girl Rin Nohara. Another type of characterization Aquarius is known for is that of The Humanitarian, but that's usually an evolved Aquarius. A low frequency Aquarius is a know-it-all that never admits they're wrong and is constantly trying to appear "different and unique" because they think it actually means "better" for some fucking reason?? Arrogant AF haha. They ARE the Black Sheep, they're the Hipsters, the Alien that doesn't belong, they're the one's with the ideas that will change the world, even though everyone else ignores them or thinks they're full of shit (tho a lot of them really are!). Plus, with a Leo Rising, he comes off as very self centered and wanting to be the main attraction, something Kakashi doesn't let him have, especially in front of Rin lol. But still, Leos are also very kind and generous (though ppl tend to not see it). I mean if it meant protecting Rin, Obito quite literally GAVE Kakashi his Sharingan possessing EYE... yeah... And one of my favorite Dark Side characterizations of Aquarius is that of the Evil Mad Scientist that Plans to make Humanity their bitch. And, like, OBITO BASICALLY HAD THAT AS AN AIM?? In a sense? Or was super okay with helping because he was like, "Yeah, I can get behind this." It took some manipulation, but if you appeal to an Aquarius' mind, they become very dedicated to a cause. Very Aquarius of you, Obito.

To be honest I don't know too much about Obito or Rin, but I can sure see the Aquarius in his general character design from what I've stumbled upon (spoilers due to roaming tumblr really) There's also Suigetsu Hozuki, but I really don't know anything about that guy other than he's basically a Human Vaporeon and the fact he COULD have murdered Sasuke at one point but DIDN'T because... he figured it wasn't worth it?? Didn't care enough? Would ruin the plot? Idk.

Anywho, yeah, if at least Shino and Obito aren't examples of naturally unadjusted Aquarius Sun individuals, then shit bro. At least Shino grows up into a HEALTHY individual. Obito... was unfortunate... But I've always liked the Aquarius-like Villains/Antagonists. They always come off kinda crazy, but the best have that barely contained crazy with that super warped out there thinking haha.

(Also, Capricorn-like antagonists like Satsuki Kiryuin from KILLlaKILL. She's a Ruthless Boss Ass Bitch if I've ever seen one, and I LOVE that about her <3)

You gotta be a little more patient with Aquarius Suns, it's gonna take them a while to really... "get it". Or at least give things a chance lol. Fixed signs are very stubborn.

[vaderssidechick]

Smile Upon The Wretched (Another Boba Fett/Fennec SHand Smut Fic), Part I

I didn’t plan to write another installment of What It Feels Like To Be Queen, but the response I got was so wonderful I decided to keep going with it. Enjoy! Tattoo One and Two were just sinking on the outstretched horizon of the Dune Sea when Fennec Shand glanced away from the silent conversation around the fire pit. The Slave I made for an impressive silhouette against the pink-hued splash of the Tatooine twilight. But she turned her attention back when Boba Fett knocked an armored elbow into her while making an emphatic gesture at the Tusken Chieftain across from them. 

It wasn’t like Shand to get distracted, but without understanding the Tuskens’ sign language, her attention had drifted. The negotiations had been going on for more than an hour, with Fett translating their sign language to her here and there. He’d told her that he explained his offer-- for twenty-five percent of the water located under Jabba’s-- now the Fett-Nec Syndicate’s-- palace, they would serve as their elite Guard on Tatooine. Not only that, Fett offered a sumptuous trading deal as well-- weapons, food, explosives, building materials for permanent domiciles, medical aid. 

But, of course, there were stipulations to the deal besides being their beck-and-call army. No more raiding of “the bare-skins”-- the homesteaders and moisture farmers-- in a four-hundred kilometer radius: The Tuskens would have everything they’d need, there was no need to take. No more killing, and no more kidnapping of the females. Judging from the Chieftain’s volatile signing, Fennec assumed he wasn’t too keen on that part. 

But it was Boba who made the forceful gesture this time, the one that knocked into her ribs. That, and the way he-- quite literally-- put his foot down. She grasped the barrel of her rifle she’d propped between her legs as her eyes darted back and forth between Boba and the Chieftain. “What did he say? Something you didn’t like, I take it.”

Boba blew a breath through his vocoder. “He wants something else on top of everything I offered.”

“What?”

The Mandalorian mask pivoted her way. “ ‘The warrior woman. To breed with. Strong cubs from her’.”

Fennec slit her eyes. “Me?” Fett grunted and nodded once, his shoulders tensing under his spaulders. She clamped down the smirk threatening to spread her lip. “So what did you tell him?”

“I said no, of course,” Fett growled. 

Shand resisted the urge to fondle his thigh, touched as she was by his possessiveness-- but this was a business meeting after all. Instead, she shifted the rifle beside her, leaning it against the rock they sat on, and slowly rose to her feet. “Tell him that while you're flattered, I wouldn’t be much use for that,” she said as she opened her waistcoat, pulled her shirt out of her pants, and exposed the cybernetics embedded in her abdomen.

The Chieftain and his seconds all gestured and grunted wildly at Fennec’s reveal. Fett sighed. “No deal.” The Chieftain signed again, and Fett translated, “They’re still angry about the raid decades ago, when that Jedi-- or whatever he was-- slayed their brethren’s entire encampment. Says he needs females to repopulate the Tuskens. He says the only way he’ll deal with off-worlders is if he gets exactly what he wants.”

Fennec readjusted her garb back in place before dropping onto the rock and blowing out a frustrated sigh. “I thought this would be a lot easier, considering what we’re offering.” 

“They’re a proud, savage people, Fenn. Strength impresses them, not wealth. Why bargain for shit when you can just kill for it?”

She didn’t like that tone in Boba’s gravelly voice, that hint of defeat, it wasn’t like him. But it was clear that he respected these Tuskens, and felt he owed them a debt for saving his life. Not being able to pay it adequately clearly frustrated him. 

But then, she honed in on something he’d just said. “Strength,” she murmured. She turned to him. “What do these people do for entertainment?”

“Fight and fuck,” he answered flatly.

Shand had no intention of doing the latter. “Do they bet on the fights?"

He cocked his helm at her inquisitively. “They do.”

That smirk Fennec suppressed earlier broke through. “Then maybe a wager will persuade them. Go up against their best warrior. If we win, they agree to the deal. If we lose, they get all the water. But nothing more. Either way, it’s a win for them.” 

Boba mulled it over in his mind, but then shook his helm. “Too risky. These aren’t half-assed stormtroopers we’re dealing with here. Besides, I won’t fight these people. They helped me.”

“I wasn’t talking about you,” she said, her stare piercing. 

He shot straight up in his seat and glared at her through that obsidian visor. “You ever fight a Tusken Raider before?”

“Only with a blaster,” she confessed. 

“You know that’s not how they battle,” he growled.

“I know.”

“They fight dirty.”

Well,” she crooned, “that’ll just even the odds, won’t it?”

“Fenn.” The unease in his voice almost startled her. “You don’t have to do this.”

Fennec, despite the Tuskens watching, reached up and caressed the curved lines of Boba’s helmet with the backs of her fingers. “I’ll win, Boba. I got this. You know it.” 

Fett stared at her for a long moment before taking her chin between his gloved thumb and finger. “I know it, cya’rika,” he murmured, brushing that thumb along her jawline. 

She lightly nuzzled her cheek in his hand before snapping away. “Make the bet.”

Suppressing his own grin under his helm, Boba signed at the Chieftain. The Tusken leader looked side to side at his lieutenants, choosing to communicate vocally at them through their signature grunts and howls. After a brief discussion, the Chieftain stood up and signed at Fett. He set his palms on his thighs. “He agrees.”

She grinned. “Excellent.” She got to her feet. Boba rose with her. 

Across the fire, the Chieftain let out a screeching call to the encampment to their left. A scurry of activity followed as the rest of the tribe sought out their best warrior. Fett caught her arm. “Go in the hold and get my gaffi stick,” he rasped into her ear. “It’s custom made, longer with a heavier mace. It’ll give you a longer reach and a wider swing.” 

Fennec nodded… then grasped the back of his helmet and touched her forehead to his. A kesalbe kiss, the custom of the Mandalorian. If the army of their newly formulated underworld syndicate wasn’t on the line, he would have followed her into his ship and bent her over Slave I’s console right then and there. 

Pulling back and giving him her best bedroom eyes, Fennec dropped her hand and made her way to Slave I, the desert kissing her fervent stride with clouds of sand dust.

Boba turned as he heard footsteps come up beside him, finding himself face to rag-wrapped face with the Tusken Chieftain. Normally his hand would go straight to his sidearm when he heard someone approach, but the Tuskens were some of the very few in this galaxy that he trusted: In many ways, he felt more comfortable around them than anyone. They understood each other.

The Tusken just stood looking after Fennec as she disappeared into the Slave’s hold. Finally, the Tusken gestured, “Your woman?” 

The question curled inside Boba’s chest. He’d never laid claim to anyone before, considering himself the sole proprietor of his world. But the Tusken’s blunt assessment made him nod, a gesture known to the Tuskens as ‘yes’. The Tusken glanced back at the ship for a moment, peering at it through his narrow eye-pipes, before turning back and signing, “Strong woman. Loyal woman. Good woman.” 

Fett regarded the Chieftain for a long moment before signing, “Yes.”

[thestarkerisobvious]

Thank you for this, @flowersandteeth

                                                Perfect

“No, sweetheart,” Tony crooned, pulling the boy into his lap and trying to kiss away the near-tears.

He knew that letting Peter

 cry it out might be better – he had received lectures on the subject – from the boy in his arms in fact – but watching Peter cry hurt in ways that were difficult to describe.

Also he was horny.  He had been a good boy in Prague because he had promised Peter he would and now he was back in the arms of his lover who was anxious - currently an anxious-to-tears mess.  Dammit this tended to happen when he left the country.  Moving out of May’s domicile into a single dormroom left Peter isolated at his new college, which left to the mercy of his own brain, and without Tony as a touchstone sometimes things got shaky.  Pulling the boy into his lap, letting Peter feel his erection, might at least distract him from his anxiety, right?  That wasn’t selfish, was it?

“No, sweetheart, you’re perfect.  Why can’t you see that you’re perfect?” he asked, kissing the mouth, the watery eyes, the sides of the face.  Maybe this was good – sometimes Peter got so energetic in bed that Tony didn’t get to do these sweet, drawn out lovemaking things that had been the hallmark of their first times together.  Tony was horny and desperate, but taking his time this way wasn’t bad.  It wasn’t bad at all.

But Peter wasn’t having it.

“You have to say that,” he complained, and his face crumpled.  It hurt Tony’s chest in ways that put the arc reactor to shame.

Tony didn’t react.  He didn’t huff.  He didn’t roll his eyes.  He didn’t act impatient.  (Yes, he had to hold Peter tight so the boy wouldn’t see his face.  But hey, it worked.)  

He thought.  Thinking when his dick was hard wasn’t easy, but he was a boyfriend, so he tried.

(And he talked while he was thinking.  That worked a lot.)

“You are perfect, you just can’t see it,” he whispered against Peter’s neck, working his hands under Peter’s shirt to stroke his back.

“If you COULD see it, you’d be vain, and you aren’t vain, because you’re perfect.”  With one hand behind Peter’s head he moved Peter’s head forward until he could press his mouth against the shell of the ear.

“You are perfect, you just can’t see it.”  He traced the shell of the ear with his tongue, working his hands across Peter’s back all the while, until he was sucking on the earlobe.

“You’re on the inside looking out, but I’m on the outside looking in.  So I’m right and you’re wrong.  You’re perfect.  Stop arguing about it.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m your boyfriend!”  Peter pushed him away angrily, and Tony fell back in exasperation.  OK, maybe expressing his actual feelings wasn’t a good strategy, so he tried again.

He rolled his eyes.

He dropped his hands and let his arm lay limp.  

Then he snapped “Peter ‘Impostor Syndrome’ is so commonplace and so well-documented the TERM ‘Impostor Syndrome’ was coined in the 70’s which was hundreds of years before you were born so why don’t you just accept the fact that this is how gifted kids’ brains’ work and get over it!”

Peter’s eyes went wide.

Tony held his gaze, letting the silence play out.

He had had this conversation so many, many times before.  But THOSE times were hundreds of years before Peter was born too.

And in those conversations, he had always been arguing from the other side.

That gave him perspective, and he used it now.

“You’re not perfect, you’re right,” he said quietly, his hand cautiously reaching out and laying gently on Peter’s knee.  “Yes, you are perfect in my eyes because I am in love with you, yes that alters my perspective, and I’d like you to stop yelling at me about it.”  

His other hand reached out for the other knee.  He moved prudently, as if he expected Peter to reject him, even though Peter didn’t look rejecting.  (He was still looking stunned.)

“But being in love doesn’t mean I’m not a genius.  You trust your life to my suit, which means you trust my brain, so why don’t you trust me in this?”

“Because you’re wrong,” Peter said miserably.  His voice was breaking.  “I don’t know why you’re wrong, I just know you’re wrong.”

“Do you have any idea how often I said the same thing when I was 17?  When I was on the verge of graduating from MIT?”  He softened his voice until he was almost whispering.  He snaked his hands around Peter’s back and began, ever so slowly, to rub circles on his lower back, the same way he did when they had these conversations in bed.  He hoped he was moving slowly enough that Peter wouldn’t notice.  “How I walked around campus reminding everyone that I was a genius and going home at night to remind myself that I was worthless? And you know what my friends told me?”

“That you were about to be the first person to graduate from MIT at 17?”

“I was Howard Stark’s son,” Tony said gently, pulling his face closer.  Peter hadn’t reacted to the hands on his back, so Tony brought his face up until he could brush his lips against Peter’s jawline.

“…and on track to be famous when I graduated.  Of course when a guy told me I was perfect, I blamed it on that. Even guys I was actually close to. Even guys I actually trusted.”

He carefully kissed Peter on the jaw.

“So I don’t really care…”

He spoke tenderly, in between kisses down to Peter’s chin.

“If you believe me…..when I say…..you are perfect…..”

“Because you can’t change my mind,” Tony whispered against Peter’s mouth, and kissed him.

“But I’m not going to argue with you,” he said in a normal voice, and began stroking Peter’s back with firmer hands.  (That was a lie of course, he had every intention of arguing exactly this point.) “Because I remember what it was like being on the other side of that argument.

“I mean generally a guy’ll say anything when he wants to fuck you, but after he’s fucked you?  You can usually trust what he says after that.  Still, it was impossible to believe.  When my friends told me I was awesome?  All I could think was ‘My God I am a horrible person, I have all these smart guys, all these people I actually respect, completely and utterly fooled. I am a monster.’”

Peter gaped down at him.

“I didn’t know you bottomed in college.”

Tony closed his eyes. He let that go.

“Pete,” he said finally, wrapping his arms around the boy.  “Most guys like us, when they stress out like this, they just drink.  Or they do illegal substances.  You don’t do any of these things, you just fight it headon.  That’s why it tears you up so much.”

“So….are you saying I should….”

“I’m saying you should give yourself a break.”

“…because it sounded like you were promoting alcohol and substances.”

“Well……”  He looked into Peter’s face with a wicked grin. “The list actually goes: alcohol, substances, and rough sex.  I am willing to provide some of these.”

Peter sighed and wrapped his arms around Tony’s head.  His body was relaxed now, and Tony caressed the boy’s back underneath his shirt.  He knew he could take Peter to bed now without much protest.  Had been a good boyfriend, had put Peter’s emotional needs above his dick.    

Still, he decided to go the extra mile, and let the conversation continue.

“Some people get religion,” he said, his voice muffled against Peter’s shoulder.  “Pray to a God that loves them regardless of their worthlessness, or punishes them regardless of their worthiness, or whatever.  Gives them something to focus on other than themselves.”

“Are you suggesting I get religion?”

“We know a god – currently running training maneuvers at the compound.  We could take the helicopter there, hit him up.”

Peter sat up, wiped his eyes, sniffled.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“What.”

“I actually think Thor is pretty hot.”

“That’s it, we’re atheists now.”

Peter smiled a little, and Tony sighed in relief and kissed the smile.

“To be honest,” Peter whispered, “I was kind of hoping you were going to take me to bed and fuck me breathless until I couldn’t feel anything else.”

“I can still do that,” Tony whispered into his mouth.  “But I recently got a lecture from some genius about the therapeutic benefits of ‘crying it out’ and I have a lot of respect for his genius so you see my problem.”

“You could fuck me hard until I cried, that might help…..but you hate that.”  Peter said.  Tony had tried to hide his reaction (Peter’s tears hurt him in ways that paled in comparison to shrapnel in the chest) and had obviously failed.

“Well….I  could always….turn you around and hold your face to the bed so I couldn’t see you crying….”

Peter’s face lit up in a grateful smile.

Tony’s stomach sank.

Oh well, he was committed now.

He was, after all, a very good boyfriend.

[greekowl87]

Angst 5 and/or 10 I’m craving some angst

“I can't believe you did this, how could you?” / “This, us, was a fucking mistake and I should have known the second things went further than planned.”

A/N: I love me some good, old-fashioned angsts. Diana fueled angsts are my bread and butter so I thought I would try my hand at it. Again. So set around ‘Two Sons.’ I suck at smut so sorry if it sounds dumb :( And I apologize for it sound rushed. No beta. I just wanted to get this idea out while it was in my head. @today-in-fic @suitablyaggrieved @improlificinsarcasm @baronessblixen

On the bottom of the world in winter sunlight, Mulder gambled and won the thousand to one odds. He had found Scully in the maze of an alien ship, given her the vaccine, and somehow, they still escaped with their lives. Except, when they arrived back in D.C., they still didn’t have their old office back. The events in Dallas resulted in them being relegated to the bullpen where they were stuck doing background checks.

Mulder was certain, that despite the dire situation, Scully would have been transferred to Quantico either by the higher-ups or of her own accord. But each day he dragged himself to the office, she was sitting right behind him in the bullpen performing endless background checks. And things remained glacial between them; cold and frigid and unlikely to change anytime soon.

But he sensed it; they both did. They wanted to change. Whatever was left unspoken in the hallway of his Alexandria apartment before that blasted bee ruined everything hung in the air between them. You don’t go around professing that the person is their one and five billion without meaning it. But the tension between was palpable.

This Monday was no different.

Scully was already at her desk that morning when Mulder came in. He smiled and offered her a paper bag proudly. “What is that?” She arched her eyebrow. “A peace offering?”

“Breakfast. I stopped by the bakery you like so much in Old Town and picked it up on my way in.”

She took it cautiously. “What do you want?”

“What makes you say that?”

“No catch.” 

She took the offered pastry wearily. “Thank you, Mulder.”

“I actually wanted to see if you wanted to come over tonight,” he said slowly.

“Why?”

Mulder sat in his chair and choose his next words carefully. “No reason. Maybe watch a movie, enjoy a six-pack of Shiner Bock…discuss what I told you in the hallway.” He looked down at his hands. “I want there to be an us,” he finished.

“Mulder, not here,” she whispered sharply. She averted her gaze to focus on her computer.

“Scully, come on. We both can’t dance around what happened.”

Mulder watched her body language as she sighed and barely nodded. “Tonight. Seven. I’ll be there.”

He recognized the need for her control; if she at least came to his place, she could also choose to escape back to her Georgetown apartment if she wanted. He would take it. “Sounds great. I could order takeout? Italian?”

“Just pizza, Mulder,” she whispered. “Pizza and beer.”

He smiled and turned his chair around. Victory.

*****

The morning progressed agonizingly. Neither Mulder nor Scully was able to break away from the phone and the endless background checks. By eleven Mulder wrote, ‘I’m going to get something from the vending machine. Want your usual?,’ on a post-it note. Scully nodded shortly and mouthed ‘Thank you.’ “No, ma’am. I would never insinuate that. It’s a regular question,” she said softly.

Mulder smiled. A trained medical doctor who could easily leave the FBI and pursue a career in medicine choose to stay and with him no less. She really was his one and five billion. He got up and padded his back pocket for his wallet. Scully slammed the phone down angrily. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t remember my own background checks being so nasty,” she told him. “The woman basically called me a bitch and hung up on me!”

“Well, forget about it. Do you want a Butterfinger instead of the M&Ms?”

“No. I get that stuck in my teeth. Milky Way?”

“You got it,” he laughed. “Be back.”

“Thank you, Mulder.”

He was truly blessed with her. As he made his way to the vending machine, debating what to get for himself, a soft voice called, “Fox!”

He stopped dead in his tracks. No one called him that except one: Diana. He turned and gave a feeble smile. “Hi, Diana.”

“What are doing down here?”

Mulder awkwardly gestured to the vending machine. “Grabbing something to eat for Scully and me. Doing those background checks is hard work.”

Something changed in her demeanor. Diana stood taller, straightening her back so that her chest (and breasts) jutted out slightly. Mulder took a step back automatically, unused to someone else sharing his space beside Scully. “Well, if you are free today, I was wondering if you wanted to catch up over your lunch break down in the cafeteria today?”

Mulder was quiet for a second briefly thinking about Scully. He wasn’t stupid; he knew there was some tension between his partner and ex-wife. But Diana could be trusted. She had been there at the beginning. He understood that. Scully’s suspicion was in the wrong place. “Um, give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you there.”

Diana smiled and squeezed his arm affectionately. “See you in fifteen.”

Mulder quickly got his wallet and bought Scully’s candy bar. He walked back to his desk and deposited the candy bar on her desk and grabbed his jacket. She arched an eyebrow in surprise and put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “Where are you going?”

“Ran into an old friend that is only here for a day. Gonna have lunch with them.” One little white lie couldn’t hurt. “I’ll be back at one. Don’t worry, we’re still on for tonight.”

“Mushrooms and green peppers?”

“And pineapple for me.”

She wrinkled her nose with a smile. “Have fun.”

God, Scully could torture him with her little quirks.

*****

Despite the Milky Way Mulder had gifted her at 11 that morning, by noon, Scully’s stomach was grumbling. She eyed the clock as the bigger hand hovered at 12:02. She was entitled to her lunch break and didn’t have to worry about it since she no longer worked out in the field. Scully typed a few quick things out before she grabbed her card and headed down to the Hoover’s employee cafeteria. 

Her stomach continued to grumble and turn as she took the elevator to the first floor. Scully decided against her yogurt and bee pollen and wondered what healthy options she had. She checked the menu and decided on a Cobb salad before she proceeded into the line to get her lunch. Her mind was fluttering around the meeting with Mulder that evening. Were they going to finish that conversation? Her blood rushed with excitement.

As Scully went through the motions to purchase her Cobb salad, she clenched her lunch tray when she saw Mulder laughing with Diana.

Diana.

Scully prided herself in not trying to cast judgment, blame her Catholic upbringing. But she couldn’t help it. It was something about Diana that crawled under her skin. Then she saw Mulder laughing, grasping her hand as she leaned against his shoulder laughing too. Then there was the hand holding. What did it for her was the chaste kiss on the cheek that Diana did and Mulder didn’t stop it. Her blood crawled, growing icey. Suddenly, Scully’s appetite was lost and she dumped the contents of her lost lunch in the trash can wastefully. Scully wondered if she was dumping her lunch or her baggage regarding her potential relationship with Mulder.

*****

Mulder smiled at Scully as he came back from lunch. “Hey, Scully,” he greeted.

“Mulder.”

It was the change in her tone that caught him off guard. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure?”

“Peachy, Mulder.” She looked up from her work. “I can’t make it tonight. My mom called. I’ll be in Bethesda tonight.”

Mulder did a double-take. “What about our plans?”

Scully didn’t look at him as she replied, “Maybe next time.”

Mulder sat down at his desk. What had gotten into her? “What about our plans?”

“I can’t tonight, Mulder. Maybe next time.”

Mulder frowned as she avoided him completely for the rest of the at.

*****

Scully’s apartment was her refuge. It was her domicile, her kingdom; it was all in her control. As soon as five o’clock hit, Scully quickly left and took the Metro back home to her apartment leaving a puzzled Mulder behind. As soon as she locked her door that evening, she dropped her briefcase by the door, kicked off her heels, and immediately went to their bedroom, changed into black leggings and an FBI gray sweatshirt and collapsed on her overstuffed couch and flipped it to HGTV. Let her be dissolved in fixing and flipping houses rather than fixing her relationship with Mulder.

*****

Mulder knew she took the Metro that day but instead of going straight home, he sat in his car, watching her apartment building before the light in her living room turned on. He downed a miniature he had gotten at a Virginia ABC store. Liquid courage. He took a deep breath, locked his car, and marched to her apartment door.

She pulled it open before he could knock.

“I saw your car,” she answered. She stood aside so he could enter. “What is it that you want?”

“I thought we had a date tonight.”

“We had no date,” she answered cooly.

Mulder scoffed accusingly. “I can’t believe you did this, how could you?”

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

She went to her fridge and dug out a bottle of white wine.

“So my mere presence drives you to drink?” He snapped.

“You’re being selfish. No. What I saw at lunch did it for me.”

Oh, Scully was ready to scorch and burn everything between them. “Lunch?”

“Diana.” She cast her typical questioning left eyebrow before pouring her own glass. “Want some?”

“Sure you won’t burn it?”

“Quit being an asshole.”

She pulled down a second glass and poured some wine into it as well. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

Mulder took the full glass wearily as sipped the pinot grigio. “You aren’t helping.”

“I’m mad.” She gestured between the glasses. “This doesn’t help but at this point, I’m sick of your shit and backtracking.”

“What the fuck, Scully,” he asked.

Mulder was still standing in the doorway with a glass of wine. He groaned and set it aside. He stormed toward her couch as she sat down and crossed her legs. Scully murmured, “What the fuck indeed.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She sighed and pinched her brow. “This, us, was a fucking mistake and I should have known the second things went further than planned.”

“What further things?”

“Beer? Talking? The hallway?”

“You aren’t making sense.”

Scully stared at him, narrowed her eyes and huffed. “You fucking kissed her, Mulder. Don’t give me bullshit lines that I’m your one and five billion when you’re off kissing other women.” She set down the glass of wine on the table with a thud. “If you want there to be an us, Mulder then come clean with me.” She stood up. Even without her heels, she was a giant. “I will fight for us but I won’t do it unless you’re all in too.”

Mulder eyed the glass of wine enticingly. “Diana is my ex-wife.”

“She’s your what?”

Fuck it. He downed the wine in one gulp. It numbed him briefly against Scully’s verbal assault.

“And you didn’t think that was important to mention?”

“Scully…”

She was on her feet now, pacing like a shark. “Don’t.   Mulder, I’m pissed. You’re dragging me along for months, pretending that I’m the only thing that matters and then boom, out to lunch with your ex.”

Mulder found himself floundering, stuck in the moment. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to be honest with me, Mulder. What happened to trust no one???”

“I trust you,” he defended.

“Trusted. Past tense,” she shouted. 

Mulder was stunned. “Scully…”

“There is no us!” She continued. “You know I don’t trust her. I don’t like her but go around strutting with her.”

“Scully, she’s my ex-wife. She was there when I got the x-files.”

“And I was just assigned.” She scoffed. “I get it, Mulder. Loud and clear. You can leave.”

“I’m not leaving, Scully.”

“Mulder, leave. Please.”

“I’m not.” In frustration, Mulder stormed across her living room and grabbed her. He tried to use all his expertise to put his feeling into his body language. A kiss. They were both breathless. “I’m not leaving, Scully. There’s you and you only.”

Scully was dumbstruck. The power of their kiss paralyzed her. “How can I believe you?”

What followed was a hurricane of clothes being removed and six years of tensions being resolved. On her overstuffed couch with all the lights on, in Georgetown, of all places, The tv was playing something that seemed irrelevant to what had just perspired. Mulder coiled around her bare body and pulled her afghan closer. “I got to admit.” He kissed the back of her ear soothingly. “Your couch might be more comfortable than mine.”

“Hmm…” she hummed.

From literally tearing out their throats to post-coitus, neither could complain. “You know, I meant what I said in that hallway, Scully.”

She turned to face him and gripped him tightly. He felt himself tighten with pleasure (or was it fear?). “Say it.”

“Diana is the past. We’re the future.”

“Again.”

“Diana is the past. We’re the future.”

After a moment, Scully released him. He nuzzled her hair. “Satisfied?”

“I will be once we go to bed. I hate sleeping on this couch.”

“Even with the company?”

“The bed is better with the company.”

“Where does this leave us?”

“To be determined?”

“Better than a no.”

For the moment, all anger was forgotten and they could move forward, even if for a moment into her bedroom. And of course, the pizza was forgotten.

[delcat177]

Text in captions, if that won’t read on text to voice please let me know <3

This is a half-year old, but I only paid Blobs Magician to help me out once and I’m fresh out of delicately painted acorns and he gave me commission rights so I’ll be tipping him a ziploc bag of goldfish later

I feel awkward writing about all of this--there was a bit of jealousy when I got my hyst (not projecting, I was told flat by a trans friend), and I worry that I may be making other people feel alone, anxious, or less-than in their gender by talking about it.  If you feel that at all, please, stop right now.  Don’t look in the mirror, because mirrors are scary. Like, really scary, they have ghosts or stuff probably, but also in the genders sense, so instead, look in your head.   Look at your self.  It’s in there, because it is you.  What is happening to me now is a shell upgrade, a hermit crab moving domiciles.  I was a boy once, then a young man, then a oldman, and now I’m a oldman with a society man shell.  Never mistake the shell for the crab, go “hey crab, I like your shell, I hope you find the perfect shell, because you are the perfect inhabitant” and celebrate that crab.  Because we are all crabs, and we are all beautiful, and we all deserve the shells that reflect us as individuals, and anyone who says otherwise can fuck off into a spiny urchin bush and not have a shell.  Or.  Something.  Did I say I felt awkward?  I AM awkward.  But anyway, drive-in movie totals and such after cut, potential TMI, and protect yourself love yourself, you lovely crabs <333

 (with cut ‘cause longtext is looong)

(ORIGINAL POST)

Alt-text: I'm always the last one to know

so uh

I'm a blithe idiot and somehow never processed or dared to dream that this was possible

which makes the timeline look SPECTACULARLY dumb but I was going through SO MANY LIFESTYLE CHANGES

HYST DATE: SEPTEMBER 28, 2016

2017: Me: Man, living in the townhouse has really amped up my leg game, all that up and down stairs.

Me: I'm down ten pounds since the hyst! Megan: That's probably your natural weight. Me: That or getting there.  Not surprising, I'm not feeding the beast constantly.

Me: *punches Megan playfully in the arm* Megan: OW goddammit Del that hurt like SHIT! Me: oh my God I'm sorry I didn't mean to! Megan: It's okay, just be careful! Me: That's so weird I'm sorry D8

Me: man is it just me or am I good in bed lately? oh right I'm the only one here...I guess it's because I'm more confident?

Me: ghghjh my hair's thinning out at the temples, well been expecting that one for awhile, at least it waited for 30

2018:

Me: Holy shit, the stairs plus the shopping is paying off!  My thighs are HUGE!  I wonder if cracking a watermelon with these bad boys is hyperbole.  I bet I could though.  I BET.

Me: Down to 162 and holding, fuck you past doctors!  I just needed ENERGY goddammit!

Me: Wow, I've lost a lot of weight from my face especially.  That makes me super happy.  Anyway better pluck these stray hairs.  ...have I been yanking these more lately?  Getting old is weird.

Me: (struggling with shorts) Megan: Do you need a belt? Me: I'M WEARING A BELT (lifts shirt to reveal belt double wrapped around hips) Megan: Well then Me: I just need to buy new shorts, my ass is just GONE Megan: In the meantime maybe pay attention to what underwear you have on Me: yeah thank God for boxers

Me: My acne scars are heck of acting up.  I wish I hadn't picked at my face so much as a kid, I guess the pores are just kinda fucked, I've read about that happening.

2019:

Megan: New shorts look good Me: I am so bad at shopping Megan: At least you have them now Me: I'm an assless chap is all Megan: Go to bed Del Me: It's four in the afternoon

Me: My throat feels so *thick* lately.  I haven't been hitting the vape that often, why does it feel weird?  And why am I noticing my own voice more?  I NEVER notice my own voice, I make a point of it.  Am I subconsciously pitching it lower like I used to do talking on Skype because I'm more socially active?  What is my brain I'm so AWKWARD Me: UGH I'm falling back into derma habits, I haven't picked in my face in years, I think I need to change cleansers.  But...my face looks...good?  I guess I had this hiding under that baby fat all these years.  ...I guess? Me: Am I getting a hump from my bad computer posture?  Shit. Me: Oh no, it's not a hump, my shoulders are starting to put on muscle!  That's a relief.  That must be from the...laundry?  Carrying...laundry?

AUGUST 5, 2019: Me: (lying in bed) 2 + 2

Me: wait why am I putting on shoulder muscle now?  I've been doing laundry for years, and it's never done that.  And my legs didn't get this buff with a routine job where I was walking three hours a d--

Me:

AUGUST 14, 2019:

New Endocrinologist: We'll test your levels to make sure it isn't a pituitary gland issue or (some syndrome I've already forgotten the name of), and it could be because there's some small element of testosterone in the estrogen replacement, but the brain does produce androgens.  We can definitely look into switching you to T if you want, but if it's facial hair you're worried about...well, once the follicle is there, it's there.  These are irreversible changes.

Me: No on that then but irreversible,, like,, what I have now,, is forever,,,,,,,?

New Endocrinologist: Forever, and I would expect to continue to see muscle gains if you work out.

Me:

welcome to my second puberty please be aware it apparently involves as many mood swings as the first one but i'm tryin'

Since then, it’s been continuing confirm, confirm, confirm. 

My acne turned out to be little follicles growing in odd places--not fullblown hair, just enough to irritate the skin while it was developing. Tiny tufts of 1-3 entirely white, downy hairs have popped up in a few places on my breasts.  The real fuzz proliferation has been in the southern quarters--with all delicacy, there is no itch like the itch of hair beginning to grow anywhere sweat can proliferate, and I now understand why cis men scratch privates in public.  Having NOT gone through a unified social experience with a peer group accepting of such measures, I am sure there is footage on grocery store cams of someone with an agonized expression walking like he has a weasel down his pants and worrying that 30 is early for hemorrhoids.  Both have settled in for the most part, leaving me with a very fluffy, barely-there peach fuzz mustache that’s only noticeable in the right light, some spare hairs across my chin and neck that I keep in order, and a profound relief that I prefer boy shorts and swim trunks.

I went through a few weeks of being especially rank despite all the showering and was worried that was my new normal, but apparently T sweats be like that, and I’m back to smelling like...whatever I smell like, probably lavender with our fabric softener.  I experienced what I believed was a relapse a month later that turned out to be a false positive--specifically, our thermostat was slowly dying and frog-boiling us until it got hot enough that my sister also went “dear God it is a sauna in here”, leading to replacement of the faulty element and another notch in the “my life is dumb” bedpost.

My face bonebs, which I frankly expected the least out of (when I wasn’t expecting at all), have slowly but surely been rearranging, a visual effect doubled by the much faster redistribution of fat.  I honestly have no idea how this one works.  I know more about dead bonebs than live ones.  I would doubt it if I didn’t have pictures to back it up.  I would say it’s easier to look in the mirror now, but I already stated my opinion on mirrors, do it too much and a skeleton will pop out.  It WILL.  My brain tells me this and it is never wrong about fears and or phobias.  Don’t do it kids.

If there’s been a single most beautiful moment so far, it’s been getting back into Steven Universe after a long hiatus, opening my mouth to sing the opening like I did years ago, and realizing all at once that I was singing falsetto.  I ran it back, dropped a register, and the first names I sang became those who would believe in me most.  There were tears, and later, showing it off, there were fierce hugs.  (Yes, the first ep I watched once I realized was Stevonnie, and YES GARNET GOING “GO HAVE FUN” wah)

I can’t begin to express the validation--I am no gender essentialist’s data point, this is MY experience and no one else’s, but I keep going “my aunt had a hyst and didn’t transition and I had one and I am because my brain makes androgens my brain makes androgens MY BRAIN MAKES ANDROGENS IT HAS BEEN MAKING ANDROGENS ALL THIS TIME IT HAS BEEN TRYING” and living in that, living in “not even SCIENCE is against me”, which is a tremendous thing as a scientist.  (As a scientist, I would be a blithering dullard to claim this is the only thing that affects or proves my gender, and I do not.  Again, TERFs fuck off.  This is simply a very validating thing to me, personally, in my experience.  I’m not thrilled that I have to underline that this hard dammit internet.)

What lies ahead is...I don’t know!  I thought I was done changing, but the post I saw that nudged me to finally do this on here went “you may stop being able to cry for awhile” and this is Important because I have been trying to figure out if I have Sjogren’s but apparently I have androgens which is slightly easier to pronounce.  I’m not sure how I feel about that, because transitioning is a lot of “I’m not sure how I feel about this” and then things being okay.  I would definitely say that the more I learn, the easier it is to feel steady and normal, which is important because the mood swings have been REAL.  This is more than I asked for or bargained for, but I still only have one regret, and that’s that my hyst scars are just slightly asymmetrical and it Bothers Me, but even that is growing on me.

I don’t know how to end this post.  I love you all to death, and I hope if you’re seeking transition, you find it and twenty dollars, and if you’re not seeking transition, you still find twenty dollars.  Thank you so much for you and all you do and are.  Remember--you are great!

Unless you’re truscum.  Then this post isn’t for you (dammit Internet) and you can fall off a boardwalk onto a dead fish.  Have fun with that!

hekk

[carry-on-my-wayward-meg]

“When you ‘‘ ‘‘ wake ‘‘ ‘’ up ‘‘ ‘‘ about everyone’s abuse, ‘’ ‘‘ don’t say ‘‘ ‘‘anything’‘ ‘‘.

FUCK OFF.

I need to talk about the “First Virgo”.

-

It will be brief and objective because I don’t have time nor money. I am the poorest person after what all of you have done to me and was allowed to do to me with the excuse of “waking up”, “karma” and “payment” that I don’t own NOBODY, nor NO FUCKING ORGANIZATION on this Universe nor NOWHERE ELSE, nor NOTHING.

-

BRIEF.

-

Arround 13/14 years old, I “signed” (?) into a basic computer school. Six months basic courses. Shit. Basic Plus+Plus+Plus+Plus+. But interesting to me back then.

There were minors interns/trainees. People around my age.

There was a stupid card you and these stupid interns had to sign everytime you’d spend “idle” time in a fucking computer.

There was a person who used to sign my card more often than the majority.

His Jupiter is in Pisces. He’s a Virgo. Double Virgo. Yeah, no complement to the last phrase, “ ‘double virgo’ on the -insert chosen planet-”. JUST THAT. “Double Virgo”. It’s Mercury. THE DOMICILE.

He was/is moderately cuter than majority. But I didn’t necessarily notice it in any way special nor even consciously all the first times nor for a long time. He is/was a focused, moderately social person. Just enough. Back then, I was a little more inclined to notice little attention-seeker/popular/gay-like troublemakers.

One day, I don’t know what the fuck he had recently done, who the fuck he was previously and recently talking to, he got close to my desk, a little bit to me, to sign my card and I felt something (not necessarily about me) “from” him. Some part of him was open at that instant.

Today, after having met many people and knowing even if -very remotely- to recognize a few placements, planets in specific signs.

I know the sensation that I had, which then, I thought was unique from him, wasn’t necesserily unique, rather than the same sensation from close to everyone with the same placement.

It wasn’t the Sun. But obviously. It was Pisces.

Jupiter in Pisces.

That now I know how to recognize in a lot of people.

And too, regarding everyone with Jupiter in Cancer, feel very similar sensations between each of them.

I practically do/used to “fall in love” at first sight IMMEDIATELY to everyone with Jupiter in Cancer.

I practically literally am in “fucking love” with the “ENTIRE GENERATION” born in 1990.

For real.

Again. This bullshit sign isolating my life.

SCREW CANCER and most people with these placements, honestly.

I MORE OR LESS LIKED A PERSON WITH SUN IN LEO BECAUSE THEY HAD JUPITER IN CANCER.

B*tch, SUN IN LEO. ANY planet in this Cancer Sign is a fucking HACK ALL OVER THE STUPID MULTIVERSE.

They just want to get in EVERYTHING, IMMEDIATELY, as fast as they can, whether it’s a good idea or they are invited or not.

RAPISTS.

-

But moving on to Pisces.

-

Similar effects, too. Almost immediately. But Pisces, not all of them, but many, if a bit sophisticated, is respectful and tactful in a gracious way.

Thing is, Pisces. Water Sign.

I thought I was in love with him right at that instant.

And I was a little bit.

-

Moving on.

Turns out, he had a girlfriend, same name than me.

I absolutely despised my name. Still do enough. Almost sorta thought was the source of unhapiness in my life. After that information, some effect that specific types of sound/fonetics have on people, maybe he wouldn’t have the same opinion as me about it.

Maybe he would’ve liked me.

What a “coincidence”.

-

But already predicting you people. No. I’m not “the one”. I’m not what comes “after” her.

But the opposite. Now I know. That now I think she still would’ve completed him more than I would.

After seeing her once, I have met a few people who gave me a close sensation that she did. And I don’t know. I think her Sun was in Pisces. And Pisces is more or less one of the “opposites” of Virgo too.

Back then, I used to hang out A LOT with a girl with Sun in Pisces.

-

Usually, “soulmates”, “The One” for something, whoever is supposed to be doing something somewhere, is supposed to be THE JUNCTION of many things that have been experienced previously, and worked partially, but not completely, lacking something, prior to the meeting of that “person”,  now, complete, in ONE.

The JUNCTION of them. 

I wasn’t “after” her. Me and the Pisces Girl WERE the “Junction” of her.

-

Months later, unrelated, I started visiting a place that many young people used to go.

Between MANY people that were there, that I met, and groups that used to hang together more often or at any determined moment, there were two people that were in one of these.

A Virgo and a Cancer.

A Virgo with no placements in Water. And a Cancer 7 with FOUR.

I more or less thought I had fallen in love with the person with Sun in Cancer and 3 other placements in Water immediately too.

And I did.

It was. The WORST. Sensation. I absolutely despise them.

But moving on.

-

UKNOWING to me back then, but now VERY OBVIOUS, the both of them were, my way of “getting over” the first person with Sun in Virgo. They were the junction of them.

The only reason, why I hung out with both of them more or less at the same time...

Was because SOMEONE ELSE was “The Main”.

-

So whoever is there full of placements in VIRGO AND LEO. You AREN’T SHIT to me.

NEVER WAS.

You were not no main. I am not going to “wake up” to whatever because I used to hang out with you a lot, because I CALLED YOU most or ALL of the times because I felt alone a lot.

You weren’t a main. You were barely half. I don’t want to “pay” because I’m saying this. I’m tired. I only hung out with you because I ADMIT TO BE A LOSER.

You were barely, not even half.

It was someone else. It was ALL because of someone else.

-

He was the “Junction” to me.

But I wasn’t his.

And that’s PERFECTLY, fine.

-

Many years, and after liking, falling, and being slaughtered (to use a “modest” word) for/by a bunch of people, I searched for all of them to update myself a bit. Why the fuck I was being slaughtered.

The First Virgo.

In despite of having placements that fit me, one of those who “felt” to me that did it more, he “still” has more planets in elements that are exagerated to my map, AND in despite of having an AWESOME ONE, still lacks a couple of good placements in Water.

Also, turns out he turned out to grow to be just enough and more different than I whatever thought he would’ve been.

Looked at his FB quickly.

-

He’s sexist AF.

Screw him.

-

Screw Scorpios too, sort of, most or all of them, unrelated, I don’t know, I’m not going to start, I don’t have time.

-

But like.

Double Virgo, Mercury in Rulership, TWO Water Signs on inner Map.

THAT was the FIRST PERSON I “was in love with”.

-

The FIRST PERSON I was in love with.

I like prodigy people.

Obviously, WHO doesn’t. EVERYBODY does.

-

Mercury in RULERSHIP. And TWO WATER SIGNS. PISCES.

And I didn’t even know all of this back then yet.

THE FIRST PERSON. I ALREADY WENT THAT FAR.

“YOU”, (whoever you are) HAVE TO BEAT [THAT].

-

Moving on to supposed less achieving destinies.

-

There used to be only one person that I think would have matched/complement me a little bit more.

But they ALSO are too much to me too, and numerologically speaking, I discovered I might be “automatically” a little bit “energetically” toxic to him if spent much time together, probably.

-

I haven’t met yet the person I’m supposed to be with.

-

2: Not for me either. But.

I am OBSSESSED with “Sevens”, in birthday charts, name numerology, EVERYWHERE.

Don’t know why.

-

Some shit I’m supposed to get through.

BY MYSELF.