#Informative Guide to Informative Guide to All You Need to Know about Informative Guide to All You Need to Know about Best Top-Notch Ultimat

[saltedsour]

The comprehensive guide for people who, upon hearing that they should learn on their own, are asking people how to even look for this information.

AKA: you can google "filtype:pdf civil rights" you, know

upon realising i had around 2 terabytes of storage left, these past few days i decided to archive whatever the fuck i wanted, starting with grammar and dictionaries for endangered languages.

only then did i realise just how shockingly easy it is to find information. there are so many (actual) archives out there.

heres some links for finding shit

want to find free PDFs for languages? here is a few that have saved me some trouble

do you want a google search phrase for when you need to scour the internet itself? here's one i used down below for the pt extinction. steal from other peoples public google drives like how they do in r/opendirectories

intext:"permian triassic" intitle:"extinction" (pdf) -inurl:(jsp|pl|php|html|aspx|htm|cf|shtml)

don't know what to even look for? go on a wikipedia rabbit hole. don't know history? heres a few keywords to get you started with a database that goes up to petabytes

still nothing? brush up on ur community. find literature about the things you believe in. look into the topics people bring up and see what has always been written about them. we r living in a world of, like, worsening search engines and ai suggestions and censorship and fucked up shit but its there. its all there. all this information is here.

if you still, even then, say that you weren't taught something and that the education system fails u, i have given u so many keys to learning on your own. not to mention theres countless academics who would love to discuss things not yet published with you and can all be contacted using this site

80% OF THIS POSTS LINKS ARE SIMPLY JUST FOR ONE FILE FORMAT. THERE'S ALWAYS MORE.

we need to legalise learning for adults

[lovelake]

novice kisses & lit up eyes

you find yourself reciprocating kylar’s feelings in a world that seems to have it out for him

m!kylar x gn!reader | mdni, 4.5k wc, fluff, jealousy, confessions, kissing, handjob, brief mention of self-harm scarring, m!robin, light angst, not beta read

note: can you feel my love for him through this i hope you can ^_^ comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

masterlist read on ao3

The only attention you used to receive other than from your sweet fellow orphan Robin, was the bad kind—like from creeps and Whitney. But ever since a few months ago, Kylar has been clinging to you with no sign of ever letting go.

It scared you at first, how could it not? Trusting others isn’t smart in this town. That mindset quickly dissolved when you noticed him saving you time and time again. Someone crudely hitting on you would drop to the ground, you’d look around and see a familiar silhouette in the distance.

He listens and reacts to everything you say—tears at your sorrows, furrowed brows at your concerns, agreements to all your complaints, smiles at your quips, reddened cheeks at your compliments and comfort. 

He cares, and that’s rare in a town like this. You cherish his company.

Sure, you’ve caught him stealing your underwear once or twice…but everyone has their oddities, right? You’ve yet to see it, but you’ve heard he has shrines for you. Maybe you have a couple screws loose for choosing to ignore his behavior, but he hasn’t harmed you in any way (at least not yet).

The point is, it’s easier to see him as a cute clingy puppy. You can envision a wagging tail behind him whenever the two of you hang out. Kinda like right now.

“I’m outta coins,” you sigh, frowning at your empty wallet. 

You have more money, but you’re keeping it nice and sound back at the orphanage, a large portion of it will be going to Bailey first thing tomorrow morning.

“I-I can get you some,” Kylar immediately offers, already looking around for the perfect candidate to pickpocket. 

“Nah, it’s fine. We’ve been playing for a while, don’t you usually head home around this time?”

Lips upturned and joy brimming in his eyes, he follows you towards and out the exit. You memorized his schedule, that information alone makes it harder for the dirty looks being thrown his way to reach his heart. 

“Don’t walk behind me,” slowing down and guiding him forward by pressing your hand on his back, you make sure he’s walking alongside you. “I don’t want someone grabbing you.”

He takes this as an invitation, body now constantly bumping against yours like there’s no other space on the sidewalk (there’s plenty).

Is he even walking in a straight line? Sometimes you can’t tell what he’s thinking, he doesn’t talk much unless you say something first.

“We should go to the cafe together one of these days, the seasonal drinks are really good.”

“I’d love to go with you, but…” He doesn’t like disappointing you. “It’s always really full there, too many people.”

“Mm,” you hum and think. It’d be a shame for him to miss out for such a reason. “Maybe I can buy the drinks and bring them to you?”

“No, you don’t need to buy me anything! Please don’t!” He interjects, eyes wide and looking at you pleadingly. As if ashamed by his small outburst, he mumbles an apology and looks away before quietly asking, “D–Do you have enough for this week?”

You know what he’s referring to.

“Yeah.�� You sign woefully after answering, bummed out by the reality of your situation. Even if you managed to buy your own place one day, Bailey would surely find you and knock down the door. “I’ve been getting better at saving up and finding work but…I don’t know, it’s still hard.”

“If you ever need more, tell me. I can find a way to make money.”

“If it’s something illegal then don’t even think about it, I don’t want the police on your ass. And also I’m not dragging you into this.”

“But–“

“No buts.”

Despite your objections, he musters a smile. You worry about him, and you clearly aren’t just trying to use him. Not that he would completely mind if you did, but still—being cared for felt nice, he hasn’t felt this way in a long time.

And obviously, he loves looking after you too.

“Y-Your shoe’s untied,” he tells you.

That’s a problem, what if you trip while running away from someone? It really sucks that your mind even has to go there in the first place.

Before you can bend down, he’s already on one knee, not caring about how hot the concrete is.

“You don’t need to–“

He continues anyway. He tugs the laces a little too tightly, but you don’t complain.

“…Thanks.”

Once done, Kylar looks up at you. Is the blush on his cheeks from the unforgiving summer heat or from this position? 

The emotion in his eyes is peculiar. Come to think of it, he often gazes at you like this—like after you lean in close to whisper gossip to him, or when you sit next to him and brush your leg against his in the process. 

Your breathing grows uneven and you get the urge to cover your face. You want to take a stroll in his mind, pluck each thought, and examine them like daisies. 

You know he likes you, but the thing about Kylar is that you have to be patient with him even though he can sometimes be the opposite of that when it comes to you. It’s better to let him tell you when he’s ready.

The moment’s interrupted by the blasting music of a passing car.  When you turn to look back at Kylar, you find he has already gotten back up and is at your side once more.

The two of you walk in comfortable silence for the next two blocks, until a bustling crowd marks the beginning of Connudatus Street, some steer towards the markets and others towards the strip club. Though Kylar usually keeps his head downcast in the face of crowds, he holds it up high and glares at anyone who’s audacious enough to ogle you.

Everything’s going so well in his mind, but of course, he can never win.

“Isn’t that Robin?” You spot him on the other sidewalk carrying his lemonade stand materials. He’s going back to the orphanage too, you’re surprised you didn’t see him sooner, he must’ve taken a different path.

Kylar tenses up at the name, an ugly and (unfortunately) familiar feeling gnaws at his stomach and makes its way up to shred his heart. 

It isn’t fair—Robin always gets so much of your attention, from the way you often sit together at lunch, walk back to the orphanage after school, to late night hang-outs in your room that Kylar third-wheels by spying through your window. All these built-up frustrations bubble to the surface. What if you leave him to go walk with Robin instead? It sounds like something incredibly minuscule but it feels like the end of the world to him.

“I-I don’t know,” he quietly responds, sounding steely. He tries to tug you closer so you pay attention to him instead.

“He could probably use a hand.”

“But he’s made it this far on his own.”

“Yeah, but it’s better to stick together around these parts.” It wasn’t as dangerous as Harvest Street, but it was still bad nonetheless. Carrying things makes you an easier target, and Robin, bless his heart, can’t throw a punch to save his life.

He grits his teeth.

The knife he’s hiding feels a lot more prominent. Nails leave crescent indents on his palms to the point of drawing blood. He should just pull you into one of the alleys so you don’t leave. No, that won’t work, too many witnesses.

“Do you wanna–“ You wince before you finish your thought, a shock spreading all throughout you. 

Kylar’s using all his strength to hold your arm—no, more like to crush it to pieces. His grip is relentless no matter how hard you try to shake him off.

“Kylar?”

Blinded by unjustified jealousy, it isn’t until you say his name that he snaps out of it and releases you. He mouths an apology, the words don’t come out.

You try to clear the air but your attempt comes out awkwardly, “…I didn’t know you were that strong, have you been hiding your muscles from me this entire time?” You know he doesn’t have muscles. God.

Kylar doesn’t respond—for better or worse, it doesn’t seem like he even heard you. He’s breathing heavily and shaking like a leaf. A gentle poke can probably send him running, but you take your chances and reach for his hand, he relaxes.

“I was gonna say we should both go help him out together.”

Together. 

“Oh.” 

He nods, looking at you with puppy-dog eyes that mask the swirl of possessive thoughts in his head and almost make you forget what just happened. While the two of you jay-walk to reach the other sidewalk, he hesitantly soothes your lingering pain by gently rubbing your arm.

Despite Kylar agreeing to help, he’s strings along completely empty-handed, not even granting Robin a simple “hi.” You, on the other hand, now have a couple of signs in one hand, an empty pitcher on the other, and a foldable chair tucked to your side.

Okay. Maybe this was a bad idea.

You’re in the middle. Sunshine from Robin’s side warms you, but Kylar has a grey cloud looming over his head. Goosebumps form on your skin from the two drastically different temperatures.

You try to think of what to say to break the tension. Have you ever seen Kylar’s house? He always says bye and scurries off but you never know where he actually goes.

Before you can ask, Robin speaks up.

“I made more than usual today–“

“W-W won a lot of games at the arcade today, didn’t we?” 

The weather goes down by five degrees. 

That was an accident, right? But usually when someone interrupts another, they apologize and prompt for the other to repeat themselves. You wait, but nothing happens, so you play it off.

“Yeah, I think with a little more practice we’ll get first place soon for at least one of them. Wait, how much did you make Robin?”

“Fifty-five! It was hotter than usual so I think that’s why. Anyway, you two should swing–”

“We’re hanging out tomorrow, right?”

Kylar’s definitely doing this on purpose.

“Uh…” Who should you even address first this time? You don’t want to upset Kylar, so you go with him again. “Sure, I have a shift tomorrow and I’ll be out at around four, so maybe after that?”

Right, a ‘shift’ You don’t have a steady job and this ‘shift’ isn’t reputable in the slightest, so you don’t specify for the sake of your dignity. 

You nudge Robin, “what were you saying?”

This (deeply) uncomfortable process continued for another five minutes, but really, it felt like an entire year before the Danube St. sign popped into view. 

You hear someone sigh, it’s obvious who. Goodbyes have never been easy for him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You ask.

Kylar nods, and walks away like a dejected puppy.

But he doesn’t get very far before he turns back around to hug you—which is awkward because you can’t reciprocate and also shocking because initiating a grand physical gesture like this entirely on his own is uncharacteristic of him. 

Is he sniffing you? 

He pulls away before you can process it.

“B-Bye!” This time, he actually leaves. You blink and suddenly he’s gone, you can’t tell which way he went.

You’re left with Robin, and you feel like you owe him an apology. “Hey, sorry he kept cutting you off. He doesn’t talk to many people other than me, so I think he’s just a bit…possessive?”

Robin smiles at you and shakes his head. “It’s okay. Actually…I always hear people say mean things about him, I think you’re really admirable for not listening to all that gossip.”

“I was a little skeptical at first but I’ve known him for a couple months now and he’s not a bad person. I wish people would stop picking on him.”

“Do you like him?”

…

“Yeah.”

————

Six PM. That used to be Kylar’s curfew when he was younger, so he makes sure to always come back home around this time to tend to and talk to his parents, then he’s free to leave when he pleases.

Kylar sits criss-cross applesauce on the floor of their room, having grown used to this futile type of communication years ago, all he gets is the same noises. He sees their shining eyes through the rips of the bedsheets. He likes to think they can actually listen from underneath the bed. 

“Mom and dad, I-I don’t know what to do. I’ve already told you before, but I really, really like this person.” He holds up a picture of you, as if they can actually see it. “They don’t bully me like everyone else does, and they don’t push me away. How do I make them like me? R-Romantically, I mean.”

He didn’t have the best example of romance growing up because of the fate that befell his parents.

“I don’t wanna be alone again, not anymore. I hurt them earlier…I-I didn’t mean to! I just…” He brings his knees to his chest and buries his head on them. “I’m scared they’ll leave me.”

He sits there for a good ten minutes and pretends they’re consoling him and giving him advice. 

Afterwards, he goes to take a bath and then curls up on top of a pile of your clothes. Time passes, the Sun hides, his head hurts from thinking.

Think, think, think.

How can he get you to be equally as in love (obsessed) with him as he is with you? Ideas swarm his mind—a potent love potion like the one he heard about in class, he was good enough at science to give it a try, or maybe he can break his atheism and appeal to a god.

Both are impossible. There’s only one more thing he can do before resorting to any unconventional methods. He might embarrass himself in the process, but his mere existence made him feel embarrassed so he doesn’t have much left to lose.

He throws on his black hoodie before heading out.

——

You never really made it back to the orphanage. After helping Robin, you dipped to go knock and look for work. What kind of a life is this, anyway? Everything you do is for money, you need it to live.

The moon watches over you as you finally make your way back home. Everything’s normal. The crickets are chirping, the streets are more or less empty, the temperature doesn’t have sweat clinging to your skin.

You spot Kylar hiding behind a tree near the steps of the building. 

Oh hey, it’s Kylar. You walk right past, nothing’s amiss.

…

Wait a minute.

You backtrack and confront him “Kylar? What are you doing here?”

“I would’ve waited for you on the steps but…”

You follow his gaze to some orphans—who, like you, probably just finished a job of some sort—entering the building. They’ve never been nice to Kylar, not at school, not when bumping into him on the streets, not ever. 

“That’s not what I meant, I meant why are you here right now?” 

“I have something to tell you.”

“If it’s that urgent, couldn’t you just have snuck in? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong but you seem to know your way around here.”

He turns scarlet upon remembering the few times you caught him rummaging through your drawers. 

“I…I…” 

“I’m messing with you,” you reassure him, reaching out to ruffle his hair—his eyes visibly light up and he squeaks happily, pushing up against your palm.

Kylar’s gotten a lot more used to your touch. He used to recoil so hard you’d get the impression that you hurt him, you’d apologize, but he’d shake his head and say he didn’t mind it. Looking back at it, you realize that he was probably just really nervous.

“Come on, we can go in together.”

He really likes that last word.

You don’t run into any trouble on the way to your room. Nobody can go into the kitchen at these hours, and the orphans from before are already gone.

You feel a little embarrassed at how shabby all your furniture is, but Kylar’s already seen your room so you didn’t address it. Your bed creaks when you sit down.

He stays standing, despite how much he keeps looking around from trinket to trinket, his gaze always returns to you for a split second. He seems to be waiting for you to prompt him.

“So, what did you wanna tell me?”

Like a fish, his mouth opens then closes until he gathers some courage. 

“I really love…I mean like–“ His soft voice raises and then immediately falters. The failed confession is instead covered up by him naming whatever comes to his vision as his eyes dart out the window. “Grass.”

“You smoke?” Surely, he can’t mean actual grass. 

“What? No! I-I meant…” Kylar can’t even get the words out. 

“How about I guess for now?” Even without guessing, you already know what he wanted to say.

He nods. Up ‘n down, up ‘n down, up ‘n down. 

“You like someone?” 

Up ‘n down, eyes averted.

“Let’s see,” you feel like fucking with him. “You like…Robin?”

Left ‘n right (and visible disgust on his face in the form of a scowl). You stifle a laugh.

“You like…” Absent-mindedly, you look down as you think hard. On the way, you notice something that’s actually hard.

It blurts out your mouth before you can hold it in.

“You’re hard!?”

Kylar gasps. Erase the definition of ‘mortified’ and replace it with his name instead, same thing. 

No, no, no! It wasn’t supposed to go like this! His lust for you wasn’t something he wanted you to know until after he confessed and you reciprocated his feelings. What if you think he’s just a pervert with a hidden agenda like everyone else? Will he now truly have to resort to kidnapping you to get you to love him? He’s panicking.

“I-I’m sorry!”

“Kylar–“ 

“It won’t happen again, or…or maybe it will! I don’t want to lie to you.”

“Kylar…” You stand up.

“I can’t think straight around you because I-I like you and—“

There it is. You kiss him.

He whines, mind falling silent save for the buzzing of bliss. His cheeks are burning, you feel the heat radiate onto your face. When you pull away, he doesn’t stop you. 

“You like me?”

Up ‘n down. Up ‘n down. Up ‘n down. Starry-eyes glazed with longing.

“Since when?”

“S-Since we met.”

“I like you too, Kylar.”

You close the distance again. He cups your face with trembling hands, wasting no time in trying to deepen the kiss. The practice he got in his dreams clearly didn’t transfer over.

“Sorry,” he mumbles in between attempts. “I-I don’t know what I’m doing. This is…this is my first time kissing someone.”

“It’s okay,” you laugh quietly, finding him cute. He can tell you don’t mean anything bad by it, and laughs too.

Eagerly, he experiments to see what feels right. Slow, gentle, fast, rough. It doesn’t help much, he enjoys all paces and intensities as long as it’s with you.

Like an ice cream left out in the heat, he melts when you begin running your fingers through his hair—so much so, that he stops kissing you altogether to bow his head and relish the feeling. Touchstarved, that’s what he is.

Minutes pass, he stays like that, but you can hear him breathing heavily. It suddenly dawns on you that you can feel his bulge pressed up against your leg.

Oh. Right.

“Do you…” Your eyes trail south, and his head finally lifts at the sound of your voice. “Want help with that?”

His mouth opens, nothing comes out except for a whimper. 

You wait.

“Y-Yeah.”

With that out of the way, you guide him to your bed, kicking off your shoes in the process, he follows suit. Both of you cringe a little at the loud sound of creaking. Kylar’s head snaps towards the door in the middle of pulling his pants and underwear down to his mid-thighs, scared someone will pass by the door and hear everything.

He’s flat on his back, meanwhile you’re laying on your side next to him.

“Don’t worry, people usually aren’t in the halls this late.”

Reassured, he brings his eyes back towards yours—you aren’t looking back at him, no, instead, your eyes are drawn to his dick. Before you can make a comment, something else catches your attention.

Just above where his pubic hair starts, you spot a word written in pink pen.

“Is that…” You blink in awe. It takes you a while to read it since you’re looking at it upside down—actually, how did he even write it like that then? It’s your name.

Boldly, you trace over it. His breath hitches and his hips raise.

“Um…” He has a hard time answering in a timely manner, a little too turned on to find the words. “I-I read somewhere that writing a person’s name on your body could make them…like you. M-Manifestation, I think?”

“Well, not to call that method bullshit or anything…but I’ve liked you for a while so I don’t think it’s ‘cause of that.”

“I’m glad…” So he managed to charm you all on his own? He isn’t sure how that happened but he’s incredibly happy.

“Do you have it written anywhere else?”

With a blush, he takes off his shirt and hoodie. Sure enough, your name is also written on the left side of his chest, right where his heart is. 

So, his heart is quite literally beating beneath your name. 

“That’s cute.” You lean over briefly to place a kiss on it, he squirms.

“Y-You really think so?!”

You hum in agreement, reaching down to wrap your hand around the base of his dick.

“Ah!” He gasps, completely caught off guard.

He’s sensitive. Not only is he touch-starved, but even though he’s gotten himself off to the thought of you countless times, it has never once felt as good as the mere touch of your hand.

He watches your hand go up and down, up and down, and up and down with half-lidded eyes, completely mesmerized by your movements.

Eventually, embarrassment washes over him, he shuts his eyes and thrashes his head to the side, your pillow is temporarily cold against his cheek before his skin heats it up.

“F-Faster,” the demand feels foreign on his tongue, but he’s needed you for so long that he can’t take it.

You oblige and it doesn’t take long for pre-cum to bead out. You let it lather on your fingers and palm by focusing on the tip.

Kylar shudders and heaves endless apologies each time his hips snap up on his own and make your bed creak. “Sorrysorrysorry—ahh—sorrysorry…”

Swish, swish, swish. You’re stroking him again, circling over the tip each time before going back down to the base.

“Does this feel good?”

If he was a confident person, he’d ask if you were fishing for compliments. Instead, he just nods fervently and whimpers.

“I’ve…I’ve never been touched there. You’re the first to…” He saved everything for you—his first kiss and all other virginities—there’s no one else he’d want to give them to. 

It was just hard. He was practically horny at all times of the day because you were the only thing on his mind from day to night, and his thoughts were less than innocent half the time. 

His head turns to the other side, now close to yours, you can easily brush your nose against his. You lean in, pressing your lips against his. Unlike last time, he doesn’t shut up. No, he gets louder.

The taste of blood permeates your mouth, you try to pull away but he just raises his head to chase after you, paying no mind to the sting of his bottom lip from having bit down on it so hard. Each kiss is messier than the last, not even music could drown out the noises.

Over the years, he’s watched porn, and he truly thought he deserved the treatment he saw in lots of videos—being slapped, degraded, thrown around—but here you are, treating him with utmost care. It’s not like he wouldn’t be turned on by the former treatment if it was done by you, he’s just surprised this is how his first ever sexual interaction is going.

“C-Can you say it again?” He pleads in a daze as he pulls away. A thin layer of sweat makes him glow, messy strands of hair stick to his forehead.

“Say what?”

“That you like me…”

You smile, what an endearing request. It almost makes you forget that you’re stroking his dick.

“I like you.”

A shaky moan. He twitches in your grasp.

You move close to his ear, lips brushing against the shell. “I really, really like you, Kylar.”

Now you’ve done it. He tenses in regular Kylar fashion, so you think nothing of it. 

It isn’t until you see a rope of white land on his hoodie that you realize he’s cumming. You press down a little harder, coaxing him through his orgasm until he’s milked dry.

Actually, he came a lot. You didn’t know he had all that in him.

Tears are rolling down his face and for a moment you’re at a loss. But the next moment, he’s tugging you close to him.

“Inside—“ He gently flutters kisses all over your face, not even attempting to regain his breath. His tears smear onto your skin. “I wanna be inside you next time.”

You don’t get a chance to say anything before he shouts out in dismay, “Wait!”

“What? What is it?” 

“You didn’t get off! Y-You made me feel so good…that isn’t fair. Here, let me–“

“It’s okay.” 

“A-Are you sure?”

“Really, it’s okay. I’m really tired anyway. Next time you can…um…you know, if you want. Just come here.”

He turns on his side and curls into you, tucking his face into your chest and clutching the back of your shirt. You kiss the crown of his head and hear him sigh dreamily in response. Running a hand up and down his arm, you can feel sections of raised skin but you don’t bring it up.

You then speak, “I can’t believe it took you this long to tell me.”

“Y-You knew?!”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?”

“…I was scared…scared you wouldn’t like me back. But, I’m glad you do.”

“You know, you should get the writing of my name tattooed.”

“D-Don’t say that, because I’ll actually do it if you want me to.”

There hadn’t been an official statement from you—the ‘what are we’ talk didn’t happen. It didn’t need to, he was your boyfriend now, no question about it.

You returned his feelings. You kissed him. You pleasured him. You’re holding him. You’re his now. Isn’t that how this works? 

You awake the next morning without him in your arms, you’re not sure what time he snuck out. What you do find, though, is something nobody would normally leave—his folded underwear on your desk.

[irrevocablecondition]

au where andrew works in a 911 call center and he frequently gets the same person calling. it's pure fucking luck who gets which call but somehow, he always gets this one - a rough but strong voice, a hint of british peeking through but a variety of other accents pop up interchangingly in the vowels. a voice with shaky exhales that always rattles off the exact information. he lists off the injuries, the location, what has already been done to help, how much time the patient has left if they don't hurry.

this happens and over and over and over again until one day the voice is illegible through the hyperventilation and the stuttering that andrew finally has to actually Speak. he can normally handle these calls in complete silence, the man on the other end hanging up as soon as the information has been passed over in that well-practised way, but this time he has to speak.

he has to speak to call him down, passing across his own name - utilising "the power of familiarity" they're taught to - and asking for a name in return, getting a gritted "Nathaniel" through the line. the name from andrew's mouth does nothing to quench the other man's panic but eventually he manages to calm down enough to say what he needs to say, and then he's gone again.

and that's the crack that opens it all.

there's more calls, always the same structure but with slight variations - a "Hello, Andrew" and a "should be an easy one for whoever you send out". once a, "i'm actually not sure where i am" that has andrew asking for landmarks and details and trying to piece together the image of this man standing around some signs and some trees with a scarcely-used construction site in the background.

and, of course, there's the day Nathaniel's call gets sent to someone else at the call center. of course, there's the day andrew hears a tap on the back of his chair and he turns around to his coworker letting him know that line 3 is asking for him.

of course, there's the day andrew has to listen as Nathaniel lists off his own injuries, trying to regurgitate them in the same way he normally does but falling short when andrew asks how long the patient is likely to last. nathaniel doesn't really know that he's giving himself away until he takes in a shallow breath and says "I don't know how long I have."

there's the day andrew is panicking and sending out an ambulance whilst he talks nathaniel throw what to do - it's pointless, andrew knows that he knows, he's read the reports from the other calls. all of the reports that talk about meticulous care and cleaned wounds, tourniquets tied around limbs and gunshot wounds stuffed with loose fabric. how there's never anyone else on the scene but always a clear trail of footsteps guiding the way easily. it's pointless, but he does it anyway, he talks him through it anyway.

and, of course, there's the moment right when andrew can hear the sirens in the background. when they're so, so, so close to reaching this man that he hears a sharp inhale and a slow breath out, something that could have been a laugh if it came from lungs that weren't so overworked, and it's just a quiet "It's actually Neil, by the way. My name's Neil," right before the line goes dead.

au where andrew is a 911 call operator and ends up tied in with Neil "mhm yeah i guess i work with the mafia. dont really want to but yk 🤷‍♂️ you keep them alive!" Josten

[lilithlounge]

Hekate (Hecate) In Astrology 100

Have you seen the video Frozen by Madonna? I have always thought that she represents Hekate in this video, and then I have found this article and thought....interesting.

Anyway, this is only the beginning. I could talk about Hekate for hours. This post is the first in a series exploring how she moves through the natal chart sign by sign. Let me know what you think in the comments.

In astrology, the asteroid Hekate represents more than just witchcraft or mystery. She is the keeper of thresholds, the mistress of in-between spaces and the guide through transitions. Her myth roots her in crossroads in literal and metaphorical ways where choice, consequence and fate all intersect. When you examine Hekate's placement in your natal chart, you're looking at how you relate to power behind the veil, your ability to guide or be guided and how you navigate liminal experiences like those times when life is neither here nor there.

Hekate doesn't function like the main planets or even the better known asteroids like Lilith or Black moon Lilith. She operates subtly, often emerging in moments when the ordinary world gives way to the symbolic. Her influence becomes clearest when you're confronting a decision that can't be undone, living in transition or assisting others through loss, change and initiation. She governs autonomy, hidden wisdom and the ability to move between realms both spiritually and socially.

When interpreting her in a chart, consider the sign and house placement carefully and the aspects of course. The sign shows the voice or tone of your Hekate how she expresses her sovereignty and mystery. The house shows where in life she walks with you. Hekate is also a point of spiritual authority. If you're drawn to the occult, shadow work or psychic practices, her placement can show how you access those gifts and where you might be called to act as a gatekeeper for others.

Let's take Gemini in the 11th house as an example.

Hekate in Gemini speaks through language, ideas and the power of words to open doors or shut them. This placement has a sharp tongue and a sharper mind. You can play the role of the guide simply by speaking the truth others hesitate to say out loud but unlike Mercury's surface level curiosity, Hekate in Gemini probes the deeper logic beneath change. You may find yourself drawn to dualities twin paths, twin choices, double lives. Hekate here often manifests as a split awareness: one part of you is navigating the physical world, the other always tuned to what is unseen.

Now place that in the 11th house, the realm of social networks, collective movements and future visions. This gives Hekate a communal role. You become the hidden strategist, the one who sees behind the masks of group dynamics. You may attract friendships with outsiders, rebels, mystics or become that figure within your circles. It can bring a strong sense of mission, especially tied to justice or information. You're not only here to collect knowledge but also to distribute it with purpose, sometimes in ways that challenge existing norms. Hekate in the 11th walks the edge between belonging and independence. She is never fully inside the crowd but never fully outside it either.

This can also point to a spiritual calling that's linked to technology, writing and activism. Gemini and the 11th house are both air aligned, so mental clarity is strong but the price is a constant awareness of the unseen consequences of words, trends and connections. Hekate here can make someone a powerful communicator in esoteric fields or the quiet brain behind a movement that seems to arise from nowhere.

You don't need to worship her to work with her energy. Simply being aware of where she sits in your chart is enough to start. With Hekate, your awareness is the offering. Every time you stand at a metaphorical crossroads and ask yourself which version of you must die so another can live, you're invoking her. Every time you hold someone else's hand as they walk through grief, reinvention or revelation, you become her.

Hekate isn't soft but she is loyal. She remembers who you were before the world told you to forget. Her placement marks where you carry keys not to every door but to the ones that matter 🖤. If you enjoyed reading this, consider buying a reading on Ko-fi.

[agnesandhilda]

once you realize the extent to which the subjugation of children is normalized in our society you'll never stop seeing it

[fictionadventurer]

All the tour groups in Springfield should be very proud of me for how well I refrained from sharing all my fascinating Lincoln facts.

[followerofmercy]

Networking/Knowing A Guy: A Guide

This is the autism website. Now, as an extension of the power of love and friendship, there are few things more useful than Knowing A Guy. Knowing A Guy means you have a support network. Knowing a plumber, or a tax accountant, or just that one dude that's really fucking good at finding the information you need when you're really overwhelmed, can be the difference between being able to pay rent and having a fun party with friends to fix your shit.

How does one end up Knowing A Guy? It's a skill you can develop called Networking and it is one of the foundations of society. Unfortunately making those connections with people is fucking hard and nobody makes a tutorial for it. So, here you go:

The golden rule is you scratch my back and I scratch yours

It is necessary for survival to seek out useful people

Great news! Everyone is useful in some form or fashion - including you! When given the opportunity to learn about someone, do it! Extroversion does not come naturally to some people and that's okay. Just take whatever falls in your lap.

Types of usefulness: trade skills, connections of their own, personality you jive with, pleasant to talk to, niche interest in shared hobby, security - the list is pretty much endless. I know a guy that lives in the metro area - no job, no major hobbies, inoffensively annoying to me personally, kinda ignorant, not attractive to me, but you know what? He knows how the fuck to get around the city by foot. My rural-raised ass APPRECIATES the guide.

Remember important information: general personality, background, skillset, likes and dislikes. You can find this information by making smalltalk about their life. There is no such thing as pointless conversation. (Yes, even the annoying smalltalk)

The more people you know, the higher the likelihood that one of them will be useful in a given situation - or will know someone who is.

It is overwhelming. In a given clique/community/workspace/whatever, there is A Guy Who Knows The Other Guys. This Guy is a shortcut. Find them. They're often elderly, extroverted, a little bit annoying, a secretary or in some otherwise forward-facing position. Look for people that are gossipy/talk about other people a lot but not in negative ways. If they constantly talk shit, they'll talk shit about you too. They're still useful but be careful with the information you share

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.*

If you have low self esteem, you're going to feel like you're using people. You're not. That's the devil talking. People like feeling valued and the connections you are making are the threads holding community together. Recognize people for their talents. It's only a problem when you're taking advantage of people

So: don't feel scummy about it. You're an animal. You have to claw out your right to survive and people will respect you more for it.

Luckily mutualism is the name of the game in the animal kingdom. Offer something back. The foundation of a Know A Guy relationship is Mutual Benefit

Sometimes that Mutual Benefit is just spreading news of the The Guy far and wide. My plumber friend is my actual friend and I love her to death, but I'm maintaining our backscratch relationship by pimping out her plumbing business to anyone that'll listen

Food is a good Mutual Benefit. People across cultures for all of human history have bonded over food. I have good success asking people for a favor and then offering to buy them lunch in return **

General compensation is also good. Offer a service in return and always do your best to offer financial compensation as appropriate. Having your plumber friend take a look at your drain: doable with a case of beer. Having your plumber friend redo the pipes in your entire house? You need to pay for that.

Being transactional is not necessarily a bad thing. I would advise against keeping an itemized list of things owed, but fish don't seek out cleaner shrimp just because they enjoy their company. Everyone gets something

Unfortunately being extroverted and generally personable is a huge benefit here, but that's the value of the Guy That Knows A Guy. There's someone out there that has consolidated All The Guys so you don't have to be the local expert. Always remember nobody can do everything and you don't need to master every skill

* This is the foundation of a functioning community. I have many acquaintances that I find incredibly annoying. They include doctors, welders, artists, social workers, lawyers, construction crew and random fuckers at the grocery store. I do not hang out with them. I do not have to in order to maintain a civil Know A Guy relationship. I can drop them useful tidbits and fuck right off so I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with them

** People may assume romantic intent. Be prepared for that. I generally denote that it's a friendly/work lunch by calling them bro at some point if they're my age. Otherwise my general demeanor is sufficient to show that I do this with everyone

Source: personal experience, mother's teachings of crime, booth vending and poverty

[megathoughtfulcollectorpeace]

All You Need to Know about Informative Guide to All You Need to Know about Best Top-Rated Honored Emergency Cleanup Services Dallas TX

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[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

ayo this pretty cool

[id: active style manual wheelchair with frame made of rectangle wood planks screwed together. end id]

as we know active type wheelchair very expensive, & repair need buy from specific medical manufacturer n take very long time. someone (who wheelchair user themself of near 40 years) made open source active manual wheelchair where most (if not all?) material from commercial easy get materials! wood, plastic, pvc pipe, & those commercial aluminum square pipe things. n they put guide made them yourself in link for anyone want try make

this video from their instagram show their wood frame wheelchair actually pretty durable, include clip from everyday use & even drop wheelchair all over place (basically imagine what airline do to them…) - n wheelchair stay in tact! n even if some part break - it easy change because wood planks all screwed together so you just buy wood plank & unscrew & rescrew.

not great for people w advanced seating positioning needs probably (think if only problem is easy butt pressure sore, maybe can still use this + supportive cushion but think beyond that it get hard). but if like you don’t need those things then maybe fun project?

have not use for self so can’t actually talk about experience but it look pretty cool

edit: reblog this version instead

[zephyrchama]

Lucifer with a habit of fussing over you in slightly sadistic ways. He's a busybody who cannot stop working. When he does have free time, he needs something to fill it, and you are the perfect target.

He isn't excessive about it. Any being worth standing next to the Avatar of Pride is already exceptional in their own right. He trusts your judgement, he knows you're more than capable. You've proven that time and time again.

Yet there's something about you that he just can't leave alone. The feeling that fills Lucifer when he sees you is almost as strong as his sin. It's magnetic and addicting.

Lucifer combs lint off your clothes and fixes even the most minor parts of your appearance. You are a source of his pride, after all.

He'll give you accessories, charms. Anything in his color that marks you as his. He won't be upset if you refuse to wear them, though he will feel the need to show others that you belong to him in other ways.

He likes to catch you off guard, to suddenly loom over you just to brush a stray leaf off the back of your head. Your flustered expression always brings a mischievous smile to his face.

He'll turn your face towards his and lean in, so close that the smell of his breath fills your nose, just to inform you that "you have a bit of sleep next to your eye. Wipe it off."

He seems like the perfect gentleman, escorting you and guiding you out of harm's way. It's a ploy to keep you in arm's reach. With a single tug he can drag you away from danger and straight to his side. Whether it be a passing vehicle, a stray spell shooting through the air, or a sudden downpour. Or maybe he just likes to make up excuses to hold you against him.

You'd be most safe with his arms wrapped around you in a private room locked from the inside, but this much should be sufficient in public.

[wrotebymii]

HOUSE FIEND | Date Everything gn!Reader

Summary: You are the friend of the Homeowner, they need you to house sit for a month. During the time weird things happen that you hope to ignore.

Warning: Fluff, banter. I named the homeowner ‘Homie’ cause I can’t keep calling them homeowner, Homie befriended everyone, no love plot.

PART TWO | MASTERLIST | READ ME

What you thought of Homie didn’t really matter, you were friends with them and Sam. Though, you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t think they were slightly crazy—since the group chat consisted of them ranting about their…household objects…and their relationship status with each of ‘em.

You’d also be a liar if you said you weren’t at least a little bit curious about ‘Dateviators’ especially now because they asked you to house-sit for them. You stared at the message blankly, not reading the entire paragraph of why they needed to be away from the house for a long period of time—something about making sure they aren’t on their trail about having the glasses…whatever that meant.

You type back “yap alert” then adding “sure”

Then going back to mundane work life, when your manager snapped at you for slacking. Hmm, maybe a month house sitting and working at home would be better.

You wouldn’t say you’re a hermit like Homie, but sitting somewhere that isn’t a cramped cubicle would be a nice new environment. And keep you from the itching that thought in the back of your head to resign.

After a few weeks of preparation and informing your bosses that you’ll be working from home for the time being, you grab your packed backpack and walk up to their home. You’re about to knock on the door with your knuckles but you notice the…rather small door knocker and gently use that instead.

Dorian was apprehensive at first seeing you, readying himself for an obnoxious pound at the door that would escalate to more knocking when Homie didn’t come fast enough, but no. You stopped yourself and used the actual door knocker and waited patiently.

He liked you already, platonically, of course.

Homie opened the door and not so gracefully dragged you inside. They looked paranoid looking you up and down with aviators as if you’re a spy—shaking their head they started explaining. Something about how their parents are finally talking with them again, and blah blah blah.

“I can’t take Sky- Er…the glasses with me cause they’d probably take her back, and these are like my prized possession…” Rightfully ignoring the feminine pronouns for the glasses, cause what? You tease them a bit.

“Good to know your bank will repossess…glasses instead of like? Your car or something to inconvenience you more” From behind you, the curtains hung up on a bronze rod ruffle. Homie glares at it.

“Okay, it seems to me that you need to spend some time out of this house…and…interact with humans” The stairs creak along with the walls—something from the living room shutters.

You don’t notice Homie muttering under their breath “they didn’t mean it like that…”

“Your house makes a lot of noise, huh?” You ask, they guide you around each room, they grab their luggage rushing out the door—waving at things…then turning to me as they’re stepping outside. The door groans as if displeased, causing Homie to sigh.

You ignore it, better for your sanity to place logical reason to it. They grab your hands firmly, then take off the glasses and place them in your palm—like it’s a sacred symbol.

“Take care of the house, I hope you get alo—ugh just be nice, don’t break things…or insult things.” They say with a wave of their hand trying to articulate their wishes best for you.

“Also, feel free to use the glasses…I think they—well maybe not all of them but new faces are nice, I think” They pause pondering the thought comedically. Their statements and backtracking is throwing you through a loop.

“Okay, I don’t have time to explain the glasses, but if you try them I’m sure Skylar is willing to help you—‘kay byyye!!” They skip away nearly tripping on the walkway payment to their car. You laugh which was more like a huff.

You placed a hand on the back of the door to close it but it quickly shuts on its own, and a click locks. You stand there processing the weirdness of that but to convince yourself you mutter.

“Must’ve been the wind…” Look down at the top lock that you knew you didn’t touch.

“…intelligent wind…” You felt a breeze caress your check—not wanting to stay and stare in one place that would likely make you lose it and probably talk to—you don’t know maybe the personification of dread, just spitballing. You take your bag and place it next to the sofa and the glasses on the coffee table. Deciding that you’ll be sleeping there after you plopped down and melted into the cushioning.

You rather not sleep in Homie’s bed after giving great detail about how the Dateviators worked and how most of their home appliances are frisky. They never said that they’ve slept with any of them but you couldn’t get the teasing comments you’d make with Sam about it.

Thus, sleeping on the sofa no matter how many kinks you get in your neck or sore spots you get. Now that you think of it. How many of your friend’s household necessities are sentient? Also, how does that work?

You look at the glasses on the table that felt like they were inching closer to you. If—hypothetically—you were to put them on in your home would it be the same set of people or different? What are the laws of their physics? Is the object their body—or does the glasses make them transform into a mirror person? Or maybe it just takes their consciousness and personifies it instead of the inanimate object—

You groan and log your head back against the couch, bringing a hand up to rub between your eyes.

First day you and you were already thinking of the impossible, becoming your friend.

You need to do something to keep your mind off it.

Maybe writing out some emails will help.

You pretend to not care about how you felt you were being watch but in a weirdly comforting—almost robotic way. Like a person looking out for someone they don’t really know but need to be friendly with.

Weird things have started happening that you refuse to understand or accept in anything other form than a vague logical explanation.

You were working inside the office, they allowed you to use their computer you ignored when they said “they’re friendly”

It ran faster than the company issued one in your cubicle, you were nearly done with a very long chain email to your co-workers when out of the corner of your eye something moved. You didn’t even glance at first thinking it was from the light coming from the windows behind you.

It happened again. You squint at the monitor forcing yourself to stay focused, then again, then—drop.

Something fell, hit the side of the desk making a wobbled thud and onto the rug. You snapped your head to the side, realizing that the red die was missing.

You get up and peer over, seeing it laying on the ground. Rolled onto a 20. You roll your eyes and snicker. Picking it up and placing it back where it was—sitting back in the chair to start typing where you left off only to notice that…it's completely finished.

You scroll through the email—your email and are completely bewildered by the perfect spelling and even creative suggestions for the upcoming events at the office. You slack your head into your palm, mouth agape as you read through it.

Homie did say…the computer was…friendly.

You take a few minutes to think about if you should scrap it or let it be and send it. Sighing with a reluctant hmm.

Mac takes it as a thank you.

You needed a break and a high dose of caffeine…or maybe something from that mini bar you’ve been eyeing—why did Homie even have a mini bar?

Through the walkway and into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee maker. There were some cute decorative cups by it that you placed on the center of it. Tapping a few buttons and crossing your fingers that you didn’t break it. The air fills with the rich scent of coffee.

As you wait you glance at the cute cat clock on the wall thinking about what you’ll have for dinner soon. As the coffee continues you look around their cabinets and fridge noticing how it’s only junk/fast food minus the few rarities.

The coffee dings. Stopping your search for nutritional value foods. When you took the cup you stopped. The coffee was decorated with a chocolate wafer, a dollop of vanilla cream that spread out into a beautiful design similar to a leaf, and some speckles of caramel.

This was not your typical desperate espresso that the break room had…no…this was art—something you could shed a tear at.

It made you feel guilty taking a sip and ruining the artwork. It was packed with sugar but on everything that you owned—it was the best goddamn drink you’ve ever had. It literally made you moan a “oh shit—“

You slumped your shoulders letting the warm drink fill you, trying to ignore the positive energy that was radiating from the machine. Kopi was happy you enjoyed it. You were too preoccupied with the coffee you nearly trip on your way back to the office.

You look down. Your foot was on the arm of a clothes hanger. Stepping back you look up, eyes wide in confusion. There were multiple hangers hooked onto a vent, cold air flushing out.

You do something you’re not entirely why you considered it: You pick up the hang you accidentally stepped on, dusting it off annnddd…hooking it with the rest of them.

You stare at the hangers feeling stupid.

You question how the hangers got there but that’ll give you a headache. The only thing your dumb human brain comes up with is that there could be a ghost.

And honestly you’d take the ghost over sentient objects.

So, you’ll suck it up and deal with dancing around the fact your friend is in kahoots with their memorabilia and or ghost.

You had finished making dinner with the minimal ingredients that were in the kitchen and ate in peaceful silence before cleaning up.

You are hand washing them because the dishwasher gave you the creeps after you stared at it for a long period of time. You’re at the sink rinsing the plate, on with healed cracks and seams on it like it’s been meticulously fixed with delicate hands.

You wonder if Homie did this.

You smile at the thought. Daisuke smiles at you, appreciating your gentle touch to his dishes.

As you dry the plate and silverware finishing up cleaning. You turn, and there on the center of the table were the glasses…didn’t you put them on the coffee table?

Your brain couldn’t comprehend it—so much so you again choose to ignore it. Slowly walking away while maintaining eye contact with the glasses.

This is going to be a long month.

[unknownmads]

CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT INMATE TOJI AND CUTE LITTLE Y/N WHOS SO NAIVE TO BIG BAD TOJI

CW: Slight smut (mentions of his pp🤭)

☆☆☆

thinking about Prison toji who you met when your college has you do a little project in your criminal psychology class. The project was make a penpal get to know them ask why they are in prision, what their lives before was like, do they regret what they did etc. basic questions of course all you had to do was get the most information out of the penpal about their personal lives as you could.

Prison Toji who only signed up for the program because it was part of his latest court order saying he ‘needed more understanding’ so a penpal would give him a friend while they stay safe😭 he ofc hated the idea and thought it was the dumbest shit ever. until he got his first letter, from you (duh).

Prison toji who got mail for the first time and it was a little white envelope with a cute little sticker sealing it. He deadpanned *is my penpal an idiot these letters are for a prison not a daycare* he silently judges examining every detail as he opened the letter. i read the letter taking in every little personal detail you shared with him, your cute little name, how you loved your cat, how you’re new to the city only just moving for school, of course the boring questions for him as well. But at the very end of the letter he noticed an extra little note.

Ps. i left a few photos of myself along with some of my cat! i think it’s only fair since i got to see your photo on the website

Prison toji who grabs the envelope he previously had thrown to the side and pulls out 3 polaroids. One of you and probably your cat you’re dragging it into the photo with a big grin on your face. the second is a photo of your face a soft smile on your lips meant for whoever took the photo but Toji couldn’t help but wonder if that little smile was for him. Until he pulls out the third photo it’s a full view of you, you’re out in the city dressed all out, and Toji couldn’t help but know you chose that photo just for him.

Prison Toji who can’t wait to finally get some alone time so he can truly appreciate your pretty photos. And immediately goes to write you back answering all your cute little questions. Telling you where he lived before, how he ended up there, telling you what he did for work before (Surprise he sold drugs😍), telling you what he does to occupy his time here (he works out he just wanted an excuse to tell you how strong he is), and he asks you some questions.

Prison Toji who has been relentlessly flirting with since you started writing to him, asking if you had a boyfriend, how your school was going, why you moved to the city, how a cute lil thing like you is still single. You had been writing each other for a few weeks now which is a lot less than you think when you know how long mail takes. But your letters to each other are long. answering every little thing each other asks, learning about one another more and more. You had really connected so you finally ask him the big question he read the words as clear as day.

~Do you think i could come pay you a visit? ~

Prison Toji who had to immediately write back answering the most important question first.

~ And doll, you can come visit me anytime id love to finally meet you and see your pretty face in person~

he wanted to be nonchalant.

Prison Toji who was sitting in bed looking at your photos when he was called

“Zenin, you’ve got a visitor. away from the door.”

Prison Toji silently followed standing on the other side of the cell while the guard came in to handcuff him and bring him to the visiting area. Once he was in the room his cuffs connecting him to the table he waited. until he heard the door open again. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he saw the guard guide you in. You were wide eyed taking in the new environment until they landed on him.

Prison Toji was large, you knew he was tall and muscular thanks to his letters and photo but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal. Eyes widening even more when you fully take him in. seated At the grey metal table his hands on the table as the guard had told him to. his hair poking at his eyes which were staring drinking you in. his lip in a smirk helping you notice the scar on it which you couldn’t really see from the grainy prison photos. His shirt stretched against his muscles showing off a few tattoos hidden along his skin. the view making you squeeze your thighs together to release some of the pressure building.

Prison Toji who took in as much of you as he could as he watched you shuffle into your seat across from him, enjoying how you squirmed slightly within his gaze, his smirk growing into an almost full smile.

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

[astrocafecoffee]

Mars observation ❤️‍🔥

* FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY, ENJOY*

( nevermind i am a TWD fan 💀)

🔥Mars in Capricorn tends to be so serious about their goals that they can come off as a little work-obsessed, but what most people don’t realize is that they have a soft spot for organizing little surprises for the people they care about. Whether it’s a secret birthday party or planning a perfectly timed gift, they’ll go to great lengths to ensure everything goes smoothly and they’ll do it with military-like precision. They love being the quiet mastermind behind the scenes, and the joy of seeing someone’s reaction is their reward.

🔥Instead of the traditional, action packed Mars energy, Mars in Pisces will often take a dream driven approach to goals. They might “daydream” their way through challenges, letting their imagination be the guide. They’ll spend a lot of time visualizing what they want, sometimes way too much and this often leads them to unexpected, highly creative solutions. If you're ever stuck on something, they’re probably the person who will suggest a completely off-the-wall idea that turns out to be genius in a roundabout way!

🔥Mars in Virgo’s love of efficiency and perfectionism can make them amazing cooks (even if they don't always admit it). They might not go for extravagant recipes, but give them a few ingredients, and they’ll whip up something incredibly delicious and perfectly balanced. They’ll even have a system for how to chop vegetables just right. It’s like a cooking ritual for them every step is part of the process. And they’ll never follow a recipe without tweaking it to make it just a little more efficient.

🔥Mars in Scorpio is famous for their ability to keep secrets not just their own, but others as well. They have a natural talent for holding on to information, and they’re not the type to spill the beans unless it serves a higher purpose. This ability to stay quiet even when they know things is both enchanting and slightly mysterious. But sometimes, they might hold on to information a bit too tightly, keeping their own emotions and thoughts hidden to the point where it can be a bit... overwhelming for others to navigate.

🔥Mars in Libra is gentle, polite, and often hesitant to create waves, but once they’ve decided to defend someone they care about, their protective side comes out in full force. They’ll step in without hesitation, but they’ll do it with such grace and subtlety that it won’t even look like they’re “defending” anyone at all. It’s like watching a charming diplomat put their foot down without ever raising their voice. You’ll only realize how strong their loyalty is when the situation is already over, and you’re left in awe of how they handled it.

🔥Mars in Aries has a strong sense of personal initiative, and they love jumping in to help other especially when they feel their “help” is needed. But,they often step in without being asked, sometimes even when it’s not necessary. They’ll see a person struggling with something and swoop in to save the day, even if that person had everything under control. It’s like the classic “I’ve got this” attitude...

🔥Mars in Taurus doesn’t like being pushed or rushed into making decisions or taking action. If you try to hurry them up, they will likely dig in their heels. But If someone tells them they can’t do something or that they’re taking too long, Mars in Taurus will often react by going into overdrive to prove the naysayer wrong. It’s like they didn’t want to be rushed, but now that you’ve challenged them, they’re going to do it perfectly and on their own time. It’s not about speed ,it’s about showing they can do it right.

🔥Mars in Leo is all about action, but sometimes beneath all that bold confidence is a soft, sentimental side. They may not always show it, but they do care deeply about the people and things they love. They’ll take pride in making memories, creating meaningful traditions, and doing grand gestures for those they care about. It might not always be obvious, but they have a way of expressing love through actions that can melt your heart.

🔥Mars in Gemini doesn’t usually want to feel too tied down or dependent, even in close relationships. While they enjoy companionship and conversations, they often need their independence and space to explore other ideas or activities. This doesn’t mean they aren’t invested, it just means their expression of affection may be more cerebral and less physical or emotional.

🔥People often misunderstand Mars in Cancer as fragile or overly sensitive, but in truth, their emotional depth gives them lasting resilience. They know how to protect themselves emotionally and are often much more psychologically tough than they appear. They may retreat into their shells to recharge, but they bounce back with an inner strength that is built on emotional wisdom and a deep understanding of what it means to nurture and care for others.

🔥Mars in Sagittarius has a natural skepticism about traditional authority and systems, and they may challenge ideas that feel too rigid or dogmatic. This can sometimes make them seem rebellious or contrary, as they want to explore ideas and beliefs outside the mainstream. While they are driven by a quest for truth, they can often appear dismissive of conventional wisdom, favoring instead a more personal, adventurous approach to discovering what works for them.

🔥Mars in Aquarius often comes across as cool, aloof, or even emotionally detached, but this doesn’t mean they lack deep feelings. Instead, their emotional depths are often hidden beneath their rational, progressive exterior. They feel deeply for social issues, injustices, and global problems, but they may not express these feelings in a conventional emotional way.

🔥 Mars in 1°/13°/ 25° people might find themselves competing with authority figures rather than working alongside them. They don’t like being told what to do and can have a hard time submitting to control.

🔥 Mars in 2°/ 14°/ 26° people might not make a lot of noise about their intentions, but their actions speak louder than words. They influence people not by being outspoken, but through their reliability, consistency, and practicality.

🔥 Mars in 3°/15°/ 27° people can be incredibly sharp-tongued or enjoy debating especially when they know they can outwit someone. They don’t need to raise their voice or make physical moves to assert dominance. Their words and ideas are their primary weapons, and they can often win a battle simply by being the most articulate or quick-witted in the room.

🔥 Mars in 4°/16°/28° people often avoids direct confrontation. They might be more comfortable retreating into their shell or expressing their frustrations through passive means rather than engaging in a full-blown argument.

🔥 Mars in 5°/17°/29° people often seek validation and admiration, they often push themselves to be the best at what they do, which can lead them to overwork or overexert themselves in their pursuits. If their output does not meet their high standards, they may feel disappointed or frustrated, even if others don’t see the imperfections.

🔥 Mars in 6°/ 18° people excels in roles that involve mentorship or coaching. Their ability to break down complex tasks into manageable steps and their focus on efficiency makes them great at guiding others toward success. They may not be the loudest voice in the room, but their leadership comes through their quiet, behind the scenes contributions that ensure everything runs smoothly.

🔥 Mars in 7°/19° people deep fear of disharmony or discord in relationships. This can sometimes lead them to avoid direct confrontation or suppress their own needs to keep the peace. Bro don't do it, just communicate otherwise you will feel burnt out at some point.

🔥 Mars in 8°/ 20° people may struggle with vulnerability. They are often fearful of exposing their true selves to others, and instead, they prefer to remain in a position of power and control. They only reveal certain parts of themselves to a select few.

🔥 Mars in 9°/21° people often has a constant feeling of restlessness, which can lead them to never feel truly satisfied with where they are. They are often driven by the idea that there is always more to discover, both in the world and in themselves. This can create a sense of unsettledness, even when things are going well in their lives, as they crave new experiences and growth opportunities.

🔥 Mars in 10°/ 22° people dislike waste, especially when it comes to their time and resources. Mars in Capricorn individuals are extremely efficient, preferring to channel their energy only into pursuits that have long-term value. This is why they are often great at building sustainable and lasting success.

🔥 Mars in 11°/23° people tends to reject routine, as their focus is always on new possibilities and big ideas. They can become irritated or disengaged by repetitive or mundane tasks. If they find themselves stuck in a routine, they may feel a lack of motivation or creativity, and may even sabotage their own efforts to avoid falling into boredom.

🔥when Mars in 12°/ 24° people feel emotionally invested in a cause or a person, they may find it hard to draw clear lines between their personal energy and the other person’s needs. This blurring of boundaries can lead to emotional overwhelm, especially if their drive and energy are used for causes that don’t allow for personal fulfillment or rest.

Thanks for reading.....

- PIKO 💖

[chryza]

FFXIV resources I take for granted but apparently a lot of people don’t know exist

The Balance: Community of math wizards who calculate your optimal openers and gear melds, then publish the information for everyone.

Lulus Tools for Ocean Voyage: Detailed information about upcoming ocean fishing voyages including baits, int procs, weather conditions, and more

Garland Tools | Database: Allows you to look up anything in the game, where you get it, and how to use it. Additionally allows you to make interactive crafting checklists that show materials needed. Best for simple solo crafting.

Garland Tools | Bell: Lists all special gathering nodes, where to find them, what time they’re up, what level you need to be at, with customizable notifications

Teamcraft: hub for various crafting tools including rotation planner, crafting checklists, crafting commissions, and more. Best for social crafting.

Eorzea Collection: Glamour hub, lists armor sets and has a gallery of user submitted glams

FFXIV Gardening: Database of seeds, cross breeding pairs, and a planner for your garden.

FFXIV Collect: create an account and manage your collections of mounts, orchestrion rolls, minions, and more.

MogTalk: Official host for world first races for Savage and Ultimates.

Gillionaire Girls: Crafting Levelling guides and Macro resources for DoH

Lulus Chocobo Color Calculator: creates a list of feeds to dye your chocobo new colors.

Sightseeing Log Helper: simple tracker to complete the early sightseeing logs, which are kind of bullshit.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

In His Hands

summary: joaquin takes care of you in the face of your anxiety.

pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader

wc: 2,018

contents: 18+/MINORS DNI, SMUT, established relationship, anxiety, oral sex (f!receiving), teasing, pet names

an: been thinking about joaquin being soooo accomodating + sweet, so here's the finished product. MINORS DNI i stg!!!

danny ramirez characters masterlist

“Joaquin, don’t,” You whine, keeping your eyes on the study materials strewn about the coffee table. 

“Don’t what?” He asks, feigning innocence.

Though you can’t see him, you can hear the smile in his voice. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Ya sabes qué,” You suggest, reaching out to lazily brush his hand away from your shoulder.

He had started to rub them, massaging the tension out of your shoulders that always finds a home there. It’s sweet and you appreciate his care, but Joaquin’s touch is like a drug. Saccharine and sensual, it makes your insides warm in ways you didn’t know were possible until you fell in love with him. 

“Oh this,” He murmurs nonchalantly. His hands don’t stop, continuing to rub out the knots in your flesh. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m trying to study,” You say matter of factly.

“You’ve been studying all damn day, querida. You could use a break.”

“I can’t afford to break, the test is tomorrow. I need to cram as much information into my brain as I can.”

“You know so much already— look, it’ll be a piece of cake. You can do this, se que sí.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re the goddamn Falcon. This is important to me, Quino. All I’ve ever wanted was to be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and I know you know how that feels. To want something so bad it feels like you can’t breathe.”

Joaquin did know. Looking up to Sam for all those years, wishing and waiting— working harder than he thought was possible brought him to where he is now. But, he’d also had you for a lot of that. Always there to make sure he was taking care of himself, that he didn’t wither away who he truly was for his dreams. He would always repay the favor; it’s what you deserve. 

“I know, querida, I know. This is important, but so are you. You’re so stressed— feel how tight you’re wound,” He murmurs, taking your hand and placing it on your shoulder. He’s right, your shoulders feel like bricks. 

“I could help with that,” He insists.

“You aren’t playing fair,” You whisper, leaning your head back against the couch as he increases the strength of his hands.

“Never said I would, baby,” He teases, planting a kiss on your forehead. “C’mon, qué quires hmm? ¿Qué puedo hacer por ti?”

You shiver at the smooth sensuality of his words but still have the mind to tease him. “Aren’t you the one who distracted me? What do you want?” 

He guides your head to one side, rubbing at the base of your neck in a way that makes you pant. “That requires demonstration. Will you be my volunteer tonight?”

“I’m your volunteer every night,” You quip half heartedly. 

“I never hear any complaints,” His lips brush your ear as he strengthens the pressure of his fingers on your scalp. “Tell me, mi amor. What do you want?”

There’s no turning back now— he’s got you right where he wants you. And there’s no place you’d rather be right now. 

“Just…help me relax a little?” You breathe, letting your eyes flutter shut.

“Mmm. Stay right there for me. Don’t move a muscle, okay?”

“Mhmm,” You hum. A whine slips from your lips when you lose contact with his warmth, but soon he reappears, his hands smoothing up your thighs. 

“Lean back, head against the couch for me.” He watches you comply, grinning as he praises you, “Good girl. Now hips up, these shorts gotta go.”

You raise your hips without any defiance, and he slips them and your panties away, discarding them across the room. You’re nearly trembling with anticipation despite the fact that he’s barely touched you. 

He notices and in typical Joaquin fashion, refuses to breeze past it. Gently, teasingly, he sinks his teeth into your thigh before soothing the spot with a kiss. “I haven’t even started yet, querida and you’re already shaking. I do that to you, hmm?”

“Mhmm,” You hum again, becoming more malleable under his touch with each second that passes.

“Just me. Now, open up,” He murmurs, using his hands to spread you open for him. “There we go, mira qué preciosa.” 

“Quino, mi amor,” You sigh, letting one of your hands drop to card through his silky hair.

The picture you two paint right now is as sensual as it is explicit. Your head thrown back against the couch, legs spread beneath the coffee table to accommodate Joaquin and his touch.

All you can think about is what it would feel like for his mouth to finally be on you. At that  thought, your brow furrows…several moments have passed and you’re still without him. You squirm against him expectantly.

He huffs a laugh, breath warm against where you need him most. “You gonna tell me what you’re wanting?”

“Joaquin,” You murmur, beginning to grow frustrated by his teasing.

“You know how much I love to hear it.” He pauses, lips hovering just inches away from your sensitive skin, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re mine, querida. You know you are.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, his possessiveness only making you ache for him more.

“Touch me, Joaquin. This isn’t very relaxing, I thought I was promised that,” You challenge, tilting your hips up further to try and close the gap yourself. The words come out sharp, but there's a flicker of need in your voice that betrays the frustration of not getting what you want.

“Alright, querida, you got me there. Stay still for me,” He commands, his own blood now burning with desire. 

He starts a slow dance of laying sweet, alternating kisses on the delicate skin of your thighs. You know that he’s done teasing by the focused trail he’s leaving, the way his hands grip you and hold you open more firmly. And then his mouth is on you, tongue flicking gently against your clit. 

Heat pools in your belly, liquid and inescapable. You rest more heavily against the couch as you press up into Joaquin’s mouth, needy and mindless with want. There’s nothing like being at his mercy– he knows all of your spots, the speed and pressure you need to tip over the edge into ecstasy. He always takes care of you, never making you feel less than adored. 

He hums into your pussy, his nose brushing at your clit as his tongue dips lower to lap at your slick with more firmness. The taste nearly drives him into a frenzy, desperate to make you cum again and again for that concentrated taste of you. But he reminds himself that this is for you. This is to melt away your anxieties, to replace all the worry in your brain and body with nothing but pleasure and security.

Even as he increases his intensity, it's still steady with the intent to savor you. You continue to tremble against him, hips falling into a rhythm to match the pace of his tongue. He lingers when he feels your breath catch more sharply or when you whimper, reveling in how responsive you are to his touch.

“Mas, Quino, please,” You plead, your fingers gripping his hair more firmly.

He groans, eyes fluttering at the mix of pleasure and pain he gets from you tugging at his locs. “You sure?” 

He wandyou to be sure because he would be happy to lay here between your legs and serve you for the rest of the night. For the rest of his life if you let him, and god he hopes you’ll let him. 

“Yes. Please. Please, Joaquin.”

“Tranquila, baby, I’ve got you. Just relax, hmm? Let me make you cum on my tongue,” He coaxes softly and at the same time so slowly, he presses a single finger inside of you. 

“God, yes,” You groan, planting one of your feet flat on the ground so that you can buck against him. 

Even with just one of his fingers you feel so full, made to take him and him alone in any way that he’ll give it.

Joaquin’s mouth grows more insistent, and he leans back to get you wetter, spitting on your clit before his tongue glides through your folds. “Yeah? Like that?”

“Mhmm,” You whimper, your chest starting to rise and fall frantically.  

“Hips down, honey, let me do all the work. Let me take care of you, okay?”

“But, I need more,” You whine impatiently, hips not stilling. 

“I’ll give it to you. Anything you want, anything you need, I’ll give to you,” He promises, pressing in another finger.

The delicious stretch winds you, the smooth movement of your hips stuttering as you succumb to him feeding your body what it needs. He stops all the teasing, stripping himself of the patience he’d built up so that he can ravage you the way you need. 

He’s as starved as you in the way he eats you out, messy and rushed, his fingers hooking to press incessantly at the sensitive spot inside you, making your legs clench around his head. You and Joaquin worked together seamlessly, the sound of his fingers inside you growing wetter and wetter as he winds you tighter and tighter.

“C’mon, querida, damelo. I can feel you. Let go,” He encourages tenderly in direct opposition of the urgency of his mouth and fingers.

It's all you need to fall over the edge, tumbling and tumbling more deeply into a pool of pleasure. Joaquin doesn’t stop, extending your high. Your hand knots further into his hair, and you pivot up against his tongue, taking all you need from him. Once he’s rung every drop from your body he withdraws his fingers, placing one last adoring kiss to your clit. 

With grace, he maneuvers from between your legs and comes to sit beside you, gathering you in his arms. “How was that? Feeling relaxed?”

“Mhmm, very relaxed,” You lean into him gratefully, feeling floaty.

He drops a kiss on your temple. He strokes your back with slow, comforting motions, a gentle reminder that even after all this, he’s there to hold you—body and soul. “Good, mi amor. Tienes hambre?”

The faint smell of his cologne clings to you as you lean into him, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips.  “Mhmm.”

“Is mhmm all you can manage right now?” He teases.

“Mhmm.”

He laughs with his entire body, shaking the both of you. “Let me get up to get you something alright? Don’t say mhmm.”

“Alright,” You agree through a laugh.

He kisses you one last time before hopping up, heading towards the kitchen.

“Joaquin?”

He looks at you over his shoulder, raising a brow at you playfully, “Mhmm?”

“I love you.”

His face softens, grin goofy and adoring. “Te amo.”

—

“See? I told you you could, mi amor. Don’t doubt my girl or my methods,” He cups your cheek to kiss you breathless before producing the bouquet of flowers he hid behind his back. “I’m so proud of you.”

Your smile is childlike and giddy as you take the flowers from him. Leaning in once more you softly brush your mouth against his. You’re grateful for his presence, his support, his unwavering belief in you. “Gracias, Joaquin. No pude hacerlo sin ti.”

“¿Ah, sí? I’m the secret sauce, baby?” He teases lowly, crowding you against the wall despite being in a S.H.I.E.L.D testing facility.  

You feel your skin start to warm, butterflies breezing through your tummy. 

“You still feel warm, querida.” His voice dips, low and knowing. “Did I work you too hard?”

“You’re the worst.”

“And somehow the best. I can do it all.”

You roll your eyes playfully, pushing him back so that you can start down the hall. 

“We absolutely can’t work together in the field if you’re going to be so brazen,” You muse, studying the perfect bouquet in your hands. 

“Aw, cmon, I thought it would be fun. Let me change your mind,” He calls after you.

“You’ll have to work harder than you did last night to change my mind.”

His grin widens. “Challenge accepted.”

to join the joaquin torres taglist you must be 18+!

joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @moonymeloncholymoney, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuff, @lisiliely, @spider-steve

[whateveriwant]

I just read your pregnant wife with 141 but that got me thinking. What about horny pregnant wife with 141

Feel free to ignore this if you feel uncomfortable writing it 

-🍱 (if it’s not taken)

I haven't written smut in ages so forgive me if I'm a little rusty. 18+ only pls and thx (vaginal sex, cunnilingus)

Soap

Hooo boy! Alrighty, here we go

So for starters, that man is PENT UP. Like seriously, he's so backed up, he thinks he can feel it all the way to his esophagus

Since you first got pregnant, it's been nothing but morning sickness, aches and pains, and a total and utter lack of desire on your part

Trust him, he's tried taking care of himself in the meantime, but it's never really gotten the job done since it wasn't with you

But once you enter your second trimester and the desire has come back, it takes everything in him not to ravage you the moment you give him the green light

Why? Well, truth be told, he's scared about potentially hurting you or the baby

You know how he can get in the sack. What if he dents the wee bairn’s poor head? He's knocking (more like pounding) right on the little one’s door after all

You have to assure him that he's not going to hurt you or the baby (and please, never refer to your cervix as a door again)

So he'll start slow and gentle at first, not wanting to be too harsh, but it won't take much to get him back to fucking you hard and rough like you're used to

He's got your knees up by your chest (or, as close as they can get) while he’s drilling into you from above, snarling like an animal

When he finally finishes, it's loudddd, slamming the headboard against the wall, and he pushes his hips as far forward as they'll go while he empties four months worth of cum inside you

Ghost

I'm so sorry to have to be the one to inform you, but you're not getting that man's cock while you're pregnant

It's not because he's overly rough when you make love normally; it's just that he's not willing to take any chances when you're in such a delicate state

However, the man is inherently a giver, so with just enough whining and begging and pleading from you, he'll oblige you to some degree

He'll stick mostly to his fingers or his mouth, maybe a toy or two if you're really needy, but he's generally going to rely solely on his own skill to get you where you want to be

He'll have you recline against a mountain of pillows while he settles himself between your legs, his arms looping around your hips to hold you still for him while he works

But he doesn't just dive right in, oh no siree. The man loves to tease you – kissing your thighs, the inside of your knee, the bottom of your belly first

He'll turn you into a pathetic little thing squirming desperately for his touch, before finally granting you mercy by giving you his tongue

He'll make you cum so hard with just his mouth alone that you'll temporarily lose all thought of that gorgeous dick of his

But afterwards, if you want to return the favor, you certainly won't hear him complaining about it

Oh but trust that the moment the doctor gives the okay after you’ve given birth, he's gonna be all over you, making sure you walk funny the next morning (and the following week after that)

Gaz

Like the other two, Gaz is concerned with potentially putting you and the baby in a dangerous position

But the man is a sucker for your puppy dog eyes, so it doesn't take much convincing to get him to take you to bed

But he still wants to be safe about it, so he researches the best positions for couples to have sex while pregnant

That's how you find yourself in his lap, naked back to his chest, as he sits in one of the chairs he dragged in from the dining room

You're bouncing on his dick, hands braced on his thighs, ass smacking off the hard plane of his lower stomach as you lift up and down

His hands on your hips are more of a placeholder than a guide as he lets you set the pace, just sitting back while you take what you need from him

It doesn't even matter if he cums or not, that's honestly the farthest thing from his mind. All he cares about is making sure you're satisfied in the end

Need him to snake his hand forward, tracing the curve of your belly down, until he's circling your clit in fast, tight motions? Gladly, love.

Your thighs may burn and your eyes may water, but there's something about this position that makes him hit so deep that it leaves you gasping for more

Ultimately, your orgasm will trigger his own (nothing gets him there faster than the sound of you cumming), and afterwards he'll help you into the bath where he'll clean and massage your aching muscles better

Price

Unlike the other three men, Price is eager to fuck you the moment you show even the smallest inkling of want

What's that? His poor baby needs him to fuck her right now? Say no more, sweetheart. Hubby's come to the rescue

That man is dicking you down anytime, anywhere he can

Just got done shopping? He'll find a deserted road to pull over on. Just stepped into the shower? Might as well kills two birds with one stone

Really, it becomes a challenge to find where in your house he hasn't had you in these last few months. The kitchen, the garage, the back porch. You name it, he's done it (multiple times, in fact)

But his favorite – oh boy, his favorite without a shadow of a doubt – is when he takes you in front of your bedroom’s full length mirror

He'll hold you up from behind, standing you both on your feet, and just watch as he fucks you nice and slow

Seeing it in profile is fun when he wants to watch his dick slide in and out of you, but he's especially fond of having you directly face the mirror

There's just something about getting to watch you – that pretty face, those juicy tits, that fucking delectable rounded belly – that makes him blow his load faster than a damn rocket launch

With the number of times he's had you like this, you swear, that man of yours is trying to knock you up a second time (But shhhh. Quiet now. Don't go giving him any bright ideas, sweetheart.)