#form validation react

[lucabyte]

even dogs pass the mirror test

[brucewaynehater101]

Overwhelming Emotions HC: Tim, Jason, Dick, and Damian

TW: dissociation, panic attacks, unhealthy coping mechanisms

Tauma, upbringing, culture, parenting, and experiences will have varying effects on how one processes and expresses emotion. Not all coping methods will be healthy or deemed socially appropriate. Here's my hc on how their circumstances affected how they deal with overwhelming trauma.

Tim is used to locking down his emotions. When it gets to be too much, he literally shuts down. He'll stare at walls for hours as time passes, be unable to move, and experience difficulty with speaking

Jason has panic attacks. He isolates himself, breaks things, and mentally spirals for hours if not days

Dick will fly off the handle with rage, clutch his hair as he rocks back and forth, and cry hysterically

Damian will flip between intense anger and dissociation. He will either lash out, or he will slip into depersonalization not being fully aware of his own body

[react-js-course]

React JS form validation

Introduction:

Form validation in React JS & Native Course ensures that the user inputs correct and complete information in your forms before submitting them. Here’s a simple guide to help you understand how to add validation to your forms in React.

Why Validate Forms?

Validating forms helps you:

Ensure the user inputs the required information.

Prevent incorrect or incomplete data submission.

Improve the user experience by guiding users on how to fill out the form correctly.

Setting Up Your Form

Let's create a basic form with fields for name and email. We will also add simple validation to check if these fields are filled out correctly.

Create the Form Component

First, create a new component for your form:

// Form.js import React, { useState } from 'react';

function Form() { const [name, setName] = useState(''); const [email, setEmail] = useState(''); const [errors, setErrors] = useState({});

const validate = () => { let formErrors = {}; if (!name) formErrors.name = "Name is required"; if (!email) formErrors.email = "Email is required"; else if (!/\S+@\S+.\S+/.test(email)) formErrors.email = "Email is invalid"; return formErrors; };

const handleSubmit = (e) => { e.preventDefault(); const formErrors = validate(); if (Object.keys(formErrors).length === 0) { console.log("Form submitted successfully!"); // Process form data here } else { setErrors(formErrors); } };

return ( Name:

setName(e.target.value)} /> {errors.name &&

{errors.name}} Email:

setEmail(e.target.value)} /> {errors.email &&

{errors.email}} Submit ); }

export default Form;

How It Works

State Management: We use useState to manage the state of the form inputs (name and email) and any validation errors.

Validation Function: The validate function checks if the fields are filled out and if the email is in the correct format.

Handle Submit: The handleSubmit function is called when the form is submitted. It prevents the default form submission, validates the inputs, and sets errors if there are any.

Displaying Errors: If there are validation errors, they are displayed below the respective input fields.

Adding More Validations:

You can add more validation rules as needed. For example, to check if the name is at least 3 characters long:

if (name.length < 3) formErrors.name = "Name must be at least 3 characters long";

To check if the email is in the correct format:

if (!/\S+@\S+.\S+/.test(email)) formErrors.email = "Email is invalid";

Summary:

Form validation in React JS helps ensure users fill out forms correctly before submitting. By using state to manage input values and validation errors, you can guide users to enter the right information. This simple setup can be expanded with more complex validation rules as needed.

Start adding validation to your React forms to improve data accuracy and user experience!

[lynleaf]

gif from

coping and caring for littles with RSD!

what is rsd?

(r)ejection (s)ensitivy (d)ysphoria is an experience of intense emotional pain caused by perceived failure or rejection. in short, it is a heightened sensitivity to rejection. this condition is linked to adhd because it is believed to stem from disregulation of rejection-related emotions and behavior. although it is linked to adhd, it can also come from other forms of neurodivergency, ptsd, bpd, and other conditions.

in littles, this can look like:

🍀 intense negative reactions to angry, indifferent, dismissive, or annoyed tones of voice directed at them

🍀 overperceiving or "inventing" threats around them, can lead to heightened anxiety or sudden mood changes

🍀 adverse reactions to having structured caretaking (a.k.a "firm hands"), being told what to do, or being disciplined

and can result in:

🍀 fussy littles

🍀 emotional and physical shut downs or social withdrawal

🍀 outbursts, tantrums, or fits

🍀 negative self-talk, rumination, and defensiveness

if you are a little with rsd, here are some ways to manage (even while regressed)!

- giving yourself positive affirmations

"i did nothing wrong", "they are not upset with me", "i am loved and seen", "my opinion is valued and i matter"

- counteract your immediate response to perceived negativity. if someone says something in a rude tone, think of other possible reasons they may be upset.

"they are not upset because of something i did. they might not be feeling well, they might be having a bad day, or they might be stressed or tired right now. the way they reacted to me is not my fault"

- write down what happened, how it made you feel, and some ways you can make yourself feel better

- think about what is in your control and what is out of your control

e.g. you cannot control someone else's emotions, but you can control your breathing

calm your amygdala

- take big deep breaths

- practice identifying something in each of your senses

"what can i hear, what can i see, what can i smell, what can i taste, what can i feel"

- remove yourself from the situation if you can

take a brain break, go to a quieter location, watch a video of something you love, listen to a song that calms you

- hug your plushies!

- use a pacifier or chew toy

if you are a carer for a little with rsd:

- be patient! your small may not be able to idenitify why they are feeling or reacting this way in the moment. sit with them and don't rush them as they process their emotions

- if they are being fussy or verbally combative, it is valid to feel overwhelmed or stressed. remember that above all else, you are in control of your body and how you choose to respond. keep your voice level, avoid using aggressive language, speak gently, and reinforce positive talk

- ask them how they are feeling and listen to them. let them explain their emotions, even if they seem irrational. what they feel is real to them! validate their feelings

- help your little figure out ways of coping that work for them. give them options

"do you need some quiet time alone to calm down? would you like for me to hold you? how about we watch your favorite show? or we can play something together! you can pick!"

this is something that i have struggled with all my life, and it seems to be heightened when i'm regressed. i hope this helped others struggling or who know someone struggling, at least a little bit! <3

if you have rsd, remember:

the people in your life want you to be there. your friends care about you! you are not a bad person because you made a mistake. everything you do doesn't have to be perfect, you are human! and you are deserving of love no matter what. <3

[kitshomeforwaywardsouls]

Times like these I’m convinced Tumblr is immune to not having “piss on the poor” takes and including context.

I don’t get the point of ‘vagueing’ either, just reblog it. Someone will inevitably figure out where the screenshot came from (I did, I literally saw the original post earlier) so it’s just callout culture with extra steps.

hi. what the fuck am I reading. I mean it's tumblr so people will find every excuse to give their favorite author the benefit of the doubt but having a parasocial relationship with a celebrity is not being groomed, you don't even KNOW this guy. if you find yourself thinking like this about someone recently exposed for sexual abuse please reevaluate your devotion to celebrities jfc

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

how do you think leona would do if he falls in love?

Here are my thoughts in bullet-point/headcanon form for ease of reading! Key word there being my thoughts. (There will of course be different interpretations based on who you ask this question to.)

Standard disclaimer: These points are nothing more than my opinions and I am NOT saying my opinions are any more or less valid or “correct” than yours. Please, I’m not pre-book 1 Riddle/j It’s fine to have other takes; just remember to be mindful in how you communicate differences in opinion.

To start with, here's how I think Leona would deal with the experience of first love:

Firstly, I definitely feel that Leona is the type of person to not easily fall in love. There are many examples in canon of Leona rejecting the love he receives from others, whether it be from his own family (Cheka, Falena), dorm members (Ruggie, Jack, Savanaclaw mobs, etc.), or other peers. Even though he desires others’ approval and praise, he also simultaneously believes the compliments are insincere or that he may not be deserving or worthy of it, that he hasn’t “earned” it. It’s also difficult for him to be emotionally vulnerable with others, and I feel that this would extend to romantic circumstances.

Continuing from the previous point, I think it’d be a slow burn. Like, the feelings develop gradually and manifest in small but increasingly more forward-facing ways like his gaze lingering for a second or two longer than usual, him getting slightly irritable when he smells (I 100% believe that smell is a Big Thing for beastmen) some other guy on the object of his affections, or simply… his mind wandering to them, maybe in a daydream.

A lot of it is Leona musing about the situation and then being in denial. He’s not so oblivious as to ignore what are clearly blossoming feelings, but he's not so hasty as to act on them right away. He'd sit with those feelings, examine them, question them. What is it that he is experiencing and why, how did things come to this, etc. He may even try to convince himself it's a phase or he's "too good" for this or he's "above" this. Really takes a long time to wrestle with his emotions and to sort them out. And then when he has come to his conclusion, he might not be very pleased with it because (as I said before), he has self-esteem and self-worth issues despite outwardly presenting himself as confident and in-charge.

For a while, he keeps his distance and observes. He’s nothing if not a big cat biding his time, keeping an eye on his prey until—BAM! Down comes his paw, ensnaring the mouse. It's like a game of chess or... cat and mouse. You have to watch your opponent and predict their moves, then plan your own moves two or three or more steps ahead of them. He'd want to gauge if they're already taken, if they seem to express an interest in him too, what they like and dislike, information like that. The last thing Leona'd want to do is charge in, guns blazing, only to be rejected and have his pride hurt.

He may also go out of his way to test the object of his affections by purposefully engineering scenarios to see how they react. At first, it's subtle things that could easily be passed off as coincidence or happenstance. For example, maybe Leona would accidentally bump his shoulder against yours or as he's walking by his tail flicks you. That's just the start though. He'd put more pressure on over time. Like he'd be more confrontational, putting himself in your path as some obstacle to overcome, still being sort of an asshole to see how you handle yourself around him.

Leona tells himself he has the upper hand, and he's usually pretty consistent about hiding his feelings to that end. It might peek through here and there, but they easily read as him being tsundere as per usual. I think that would be his way of coping, because deep down he doesn't want to admit that a part of him is scared to feel this way. It's something else he could fail at, someone else he could frighten away or destroy.

With time, I think he'd become more confident. He has a better grasp of the other person, he's been able to sort out his thoughts. But the thing is, his pride is still a major deterrent. Instead of coming out and saying it, it would become another game. If you've ever read or watched Kaguya-sama: Love is War, it'd be similar to that. Leona would push for the other person to be the one to fall for him and confess first. Part of it is he's kind of afraid to be so emotionally vulnerable, part of it is that he's desperate to be wanted and needed by others, and part of it is that he feels he needs to "earn" that love by winning you over. He wants that sweet, sweet validation from you. He wants YOU to choose HIM.

I think he expects a certain amount of push and pull. If the game's too easy for him, the (psychological) hunt loses some of its thrill. I think he'd also be the type to seek a partner that isn't just a blind yes man (despite him giving off the vibes that he wants to be in total control, especially in his own dormitory); they should be able to keep him on his toes one way or another, and they shouldn't idolize him in a really unrealistic way--because then he worries what would happen if they learn about his flaws. Would they see him differently? Reject him? Etc.

It'd take a considerable amount of time and effort, but slowly he'd let the walls around his heart down to let you in--but ONLY if you pass his tests and prove that you can be loyal, trustworthy, and cognizant + accepting of all his flaws. He has high standards, so he's pretty picky about who he allows to be by his side. I don't think he'd be happy having to like... put in a fake "perfect prince" act or airs for someone else. Pretending to be someone you're not in order to have love might be just another source of stress for him.

He would take a more aggressive approach if the object of his affections makes it obvious that they return his feelings. More "accidental" touching (but of course nothing that breaches into something they find discomforting), intentionally dropping phrases that come off as flirtatious, demanding to spend more time together, etc.

If they're not into it, he'd respectfully back off. However, that won't stop him from moping about it in private later.

Then, assuming a scenario in which he and the person he's romantically interested in get together/start formally dating:

I think he'd be a lot more blatant and shameless about "showing off" his affections and/or the relationship in general. Overt flirting at this point, casually laying his head on the shoulder or wrapping an arm or tail around you, etc. Who cares who sees? Let them know you're already taken.

Oh yeah, he's really into physical touch (within whatever limits you deem to be acceptable; he respects your autonomy). Cuddles while napping, hand holding, head pats, listening to your heartbeat, etc. It grants him a sense of security that you're like... physically there with him.

I think words of affirmation are also up there, however I don't think he would appreciate it if it's like... overdone. Too many compliments might start to feel disingenuous or even smothering after a while (what comes to my mind specifically is how he reacts negatively or with denial to his brother, Cheka, Kifaji, and even his own dorm members praising him).

As I mentioned earlier, I think there'd be a lot of banter and teasing; Leona strikes me as someone who likes to toy with his pre or puts up a fight; he still has his pride and won't take sass lying down, he'd definitely retaliate but in a playful way.

Slightly whiny and needy. Key word: SLIGHTLY. He's not going to go full yandere on you. I believe that Leona would be somewhat insecure about the relationship and wants you to validate him with your presence. Like, if you're lying down somewhere and try to get up to leave... he might pout and be all dramatic about it, maybe throw in a sarcastic line about how he's "a delicate prince" and how he'll "wither like a flower" without you.

Slightly possessive. Again, the key word: SLIGHTLY. He's not going to restrict your movements or demand complete control of your life. However, he might sulk if he like... sees some other guy hovering or getting handsy, obviously making you uncomfortable. (If it's a particularly bad day for him, Leona might get intrusive thoughts about being the "second pick" and his partner leaving him for some "better" guy.) We've already seen he can get pretty territorial when it comes to Savanaclaw and the Botanical Garden, so I think at some point he'd also step in to intimidate people he feels are becoming a problem for his S/O. It's not the case for every situation though; his partner should be able to handle themselves or let him know when he's overstepping.

I think he'd be a little more tolerant of things his partner pulls. They're the one exception for certain things, like touching his ears or being more willing to listen to their requests to go to class or to try this new vegetable.

He'd try to distance his S/O from his family, especially in the beginning. Leona would tell them he doesn't think they're ready to meet the royal family yet (especially knowing the rocky relationship he has with his family), but really a lot of this stems from his pride. Falena, for example, honestly might make him look uncool by infantilizing his "baby bro".

Leona doesn't really go out of his way to plan grand gestures (he's not Kalim). If he does anything "big", it's probably like sending Ruggie to your doorstep with fancy flowers and a notecard or something. What he values isn't the "frivolous" stuff, but spending quality time together (even if it's doing nothing in particular). Might still spoil you on, say, special occasions, but he generally dislikes making a big deal of these things.

I think he'd be into you wearing his clothes. It's an easy visual indication that you're intimate enough to do this, but also it cloaks you in his smell so every other beastman in the immediate vicinity also knows you're "marked". Leona tosses his unworn blazer over you, casually saying, "Keep it."

Speaking of!! I think he’d also really like the idea of marking (bites, scratch marks, etc.) or scenting his partner. Just animalistic stuff like that, y’know. I’m sure he could hold himself back if they’re not comfortable with these aspects.

I do believe he has the capacity to be very sappy, but I don't think he'd want to be at this level all of the time. It would probably be limited to private settings and done sparingly, sort of like a treat?? Cuz if he does it too often, then it might lose its "special" feeling, and I also feel like he wouldn't be open to being all squimshy 24/7. Usually his sappiness is sarcastic.

Going to keep it 100 here, he's going to be more vulnerable around you (especially in private), and that means potential traumadumping. That's not to say that he'd do it super frequently to go into full-blown details, but his S/O would be one of the few people he feels comfortable enough with to open about his deepest insecurities and fears. He sometimes needs someone to hear him out, a shoulder to cry on, etc. Of course, he's not going to treat his partner like an unpaid therapist. Leona just... needs some extra support every now and again, reminders that he's doing fine, you know??

IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Leona being in love would NOT smooth out all the rough edges to his personality. He's not going to white knight/act like you constantly need his protection, he's not going to bend over backwards and do anything and everything his partner asks of him. He still has a will and he can and will disagree or argue if he's opposed to something. He'll still let you handle yourself as needed.

Leona being in love would also NOT magically cure him of his personal issues and struggles. This is also true of the other characters who have deeply rooted trauma, but I feel this point should be included as a reminder anyway. It's of course not his entire personality, but his past experiences will impact how he interprets and reacts to things in present day (hence him being needy/wanting validation, etc.).

Like all relationships (whether romantic or platonic), it would not be flawless. There will be highs and lows, fights and disagreements, etc. This is normal in any relationship; what matters is that you're able to be mature enough to patch things up afterwards and learn from those rough patches.

[goldfades]

hi sweet pea, could u write smth for Joe comforting his girl when she’s feeling insecure :( he has such a calm aura and grounding energy and I could rlly use some comfort rn

hiiii jojo, i hope you feel better sweet girl:( i hope this fic cheers you up!

You don’t mean to let it get to you.

You tell yourself that over and over again—like a quiet mantra, like a plea.

It’s just noise. Just people talking. Just opinions from people who don’t even know you.

But that’s the thing about insecurity. It seeps in through the cracks, finds you when you’re tired, makes a home in the quiet parts of your mind. You don’t even realize it’s there until it’s too late. Until it’s already gnawed away at you, leaving you feeling raw and exposed.

Tonight, it’s hitting harder than usual.

You’re curled up on Joe’s couch, legs tucked underneath you, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, even though every part of you knows you should stop. That little voice in the back of your head—the one that still craves validation, the one that wants to prove something—keeps urging you to keep looking.

And there it is. Again. The comments. The pictures. The comparisons.

It’s not new, not surprising, but somehow, it still manages to sting.

"She’s cute, I guess, but Joe could do so much better." "Why do athletes always go for mid girls?" "This is the best he could pull?"

You swallow hard. It shouldn’t matter. You know it shouldn’t. But suddenly, you feel small. Insignificant. Like a shadow of yourself.

You don’t notice how quiet you’ve gotten. How your posture has shifted—how your shoulders have curled inward, how your fingers have tightened around your phone. You don’t even notice Joe watching you from the other side of the couch, gaze steady, a crease forming between his brows.

He knows you. Knows when your mind starts spiraling, when you start retreating into yourself.

“Babe.” His voice is soft, low, cutting through the silence like a steadying force.

You don’t respond right away, blinking rapidly like you’ve just been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

Joe shifts closer, his warmth immediately surrounding you. He reaches out, carefully tugging your phone from your grip, setting it aside before threading his fingers through yours. His touch is gentle, grounding.

“What’s going on?” His voice is calm, but there’s a weight to it, like he already knows. Like he’s just waiting for you to let him in.

You hesitate, teeth pressing into your bottom lip. Because how do you even say it out loud without sounding ridiculous? Without sounding weak?

Joe waits. Patient. Unwavering. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t push. Just sits there, his presence steady and sure, like an anchor.

And maybe that’s what makes you finally break.

Your throat tightens, and suddenly, you’re not sure if you want to brush it off or if you want to just let it all out.

You let out a slow breath, staring down at your hands where they rest in Joe’s. His thumb moves in lazy, absentminded circles against your skin, like he’s trying to pull you back to earth—back to him.

“It’s stupid,” you say finally, voice barely above a whisper.

Joe doesn’t react right away. He just watches you, waiting, because he knows you well enough to know that this isn’t where it ends. That there’s more.

You swallow hard, exhaling sharply before forcing the words out. “People online. Talking about me. Saying I’m not… enough.” The last word feels like a weight in your mouth, like it takes up too much space.

Joe’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, but his grip on you stays soft. His calm doesn’t waver, but there’s something in his eyes now—something sharp, something protective.

“Enough for what?” he asks, and it’s not rhetorical. He really wants to know. Because to him, there is no logical end to that sentence.

You shake your head, feeling the sting in your eyes. “For you.”

Joe exhales through his nose, and for the first time, his composure shifts just slightly. Not angry, not irritated—just frustrated. Not with you, but with the idea that this thought even exists in your head.

“Who the hell decides that?” His voice is still calm, but there’s an edge to it now. “Some random people on the internet? They don’t know anything about us. They don’t know you.”

You don’t say anything. Not because you don’t believe him, but because insecurity doesn’t work like that. You can know something isn’t true and still feel it wrap itself around you, still let it sink into your bones.

Joe studies you for a long moment before sighing, running a hand over his face before leaning forward. His hands find your thighs, warm and steady, and he tugs you closer—so close that your knees knock against his.

“You know what I see when I look at you?” he asks, voice quieter now, rough around the edges.

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What?”

Joe tilts his head slightly, considering you like you’re something worth studying. “The person I choose. Every single day.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly, grounding you. “The person who makes me laugh when I’ve had a shit day. The person who keeps me sane when everything else gets overwhelming.”

Your breath hitches.

Joe doesn’t look away, doesn’t let you. “I don’t care about what people say. I don’t care what they think they know. None of it matters. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

The simplicity of it, the certainty—it makes your chest tighten, makes something deep in you ache.

Joe lets his hands trail down your arms, stopping when his fingers find yours. “And if you ever forget that,” he murmurs, voice dropping lower, “I’ll just have to keep reminding you.”

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until Joe gives your hands a gentle squeeze, pulling you back into the moment.

His words hang in the air, soft but heavy, like they’re still settling into your skin. You feel raw, exposed—but not in the way that makes you want to shrink away. No, this is different. This is Joe pulling you back to yourself, reminding you of things you’ve always known deep down but sometimes forget when the world gets too loud.

Your throat feels tight. “Joe—”

“I mean it.” His voice is unwavering, his grip steady. “I’d tell you a hundred times if I had to. A thousand. Whatever it takes for you to believe me.”

You don’t doubt that for a second. That’s the thing about Joe—he doesn’t waste words, doesn’t say things just to say them. If he says something, he means it.

He leans in just slightly, so close that his breath fans across your skin, and suddenly, your whole world is narrowed down to just him.

“You’re the best part of my life,” he says, and it’s not dramatic, not over-the-top. Just a simple, undeniable truth. “And I don’t ever want you questioning that again.”

Your eyes burn, and when you try to look away, Joe just tilts your chin back up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. It’s unfair, really, how easily he unravels you. How he looks at you like you’re something precious, something irreplaceable, like there isn’t a single doubt in his mind that you belong right here with him.

“I just…” You exhale shakily, shaking your head. “I don’t get how you’re always so sure.”

Joe’s lips twitch slightly, like he almost wants to smile, but there’s too much sincerity in his face for it to fully form. “Because it’s you.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s all I need to know.”

Your chest tightens, and for a moment, you don’t trust yourself to speak.

Joe watches you carefully, fingers tracing absentminded patterns along your wrist. He’s always been like this—so patient, so steady, like he knows exactly when to push and when to just sit with you in the silence.

And then, just when you think he’s going to let the conversation settle, he tilts his head, studying you. “Come here.”

You blink. “I’m right here.”

Joe huffs out a soft laugh, shaking his head before reaching for you, pulling you right into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His arms loop around your waist, his chest solid and warm against your back, and just like that, everything feels a little quieter. A little smaller.

His chin rests against your shoulder, his lips brushing your temple. “There,” he murmurs. “Better?”

You nod, sinking into him, letting his warmth settle into your bones. “Yeah.”

“Good.” His fingers slip beneath the hem of your sleeve, tracing slow, soothing lines against your skin. “Because I’m not letting you go until you get it through your stubborn head how much I love you.”

You let out a watery laugh, tilting your head slightly to look at him. “So this is your plan? Holding me hostage until I have better self-esteem?”

Joe grins, and this time, it reaches his eyes. “Exactly.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted, and he knows it. He knows he’s won, that he’s already pulled you out of your head, out of that dark, suffocating space.

After a beat of silence, he shifts slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck, voice dropping lower. “You’re the only one I want. The only one I’ve ever wanted. And no opinion from some faceless people online is ever gonna change that.”

You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around his forearm where they rest. “Joe—”

“I love you.” He says it so simply, so effortlessly, like it’s a truth he never even has to question. “And I don’t want you wasting another second of your life wondering if you’re good enough. You are.”

You turn in his lap then, facing him fully, and the second your eyes meet his, something inside you finally settles.

Joe watches you closely, waiting, giving you space to say whatever you need to. But you don’t think there’s anything left to say.

Instead, you lift your hands to cup his face, fingers brushing against the sharp edges of his jaw, the warmth of his skin. You hold him there for a second, just taking him in, before leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

Joe melts into you instantly, his grip tightening just slightly around your waist, like he never wants to let go. He kisses you slow, deep, like he’s making a promise without words. Like he’s telling you again and again, I’m here. I’m yours.

And for the first time that night, you finally believe it.

[adore-laur]

in one of your pieces it’s briefly mentioned that the first time they had sex after she gives birth it was really uncomfortable and not good and i was wondering if you’d ever write that ? i love the idea of sex not always being perfect especially after going weeks without it

PERFECTLY IMPERFECT

——

There was a sexual suggestiveness about the toothpick poking from Harry's mouth, and its effect on you could only be attributed to your severe case of sleep deprivation. It was a stupid piece of wood, and yet how it was framed between his plush lips sent prickles of heat surging down your neck and spine. On second thought, perhaps it was the apron tied around his waist as he dipped ripe strawberries in melted chocolate for a Valentine's Day dessert—his long fingers working with skillful precision, the sleeves of his tight long-sleeve shirt rolled up, the romantic gesture of it all. No, maybe it was the baby sling wrapped around his shoulder that held your four-month-old daughter, who was watching his every move. God, and the way he was murmuring to her each step of what he was doing definitely contributed to your rising libido. It was a sight you were still getting used to. More remarkably, it validated your years-long yearning to have children with him.

If humble swagger existed, it came in the form of how Harry carried himself as a father. The casual way he interacted with your baby was as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Walking around the house with her on his hip, going about his daily routine. Always willing to step in to give you a moment to relax. He was dependable, and you cursed your hormones for reacting so rabidly to it.

Maybe the changes your mind and body had gone through were catching up. After months, you finally felt healed from the physical wounds of giving birth. No more stitches or soreness down below. No more bleeding.

Your desire for sex was... almost normal again. You were being a bit sheepish about initiating anything, so you sincerely hoped the hunger in your eyes was communicating to Harry what you couldn't say verbally. The problem, however, was that Harry was too enamored with your little girl to notice your longing gaze. She was the center of his universe now, and you couldn't blame him for orbiting her radiance. She brought a certain euphoria to each day.

You rested your chin on the back of the couch where you observed them and inhaled the sweet scent of chocolate. It was quiet moments like these, where baby cries paused, that warmed your soul. You took time to appreciate the beauty of home, with its familiar waves and friendly birds. The creak of the floorboards and the color of the walls. The rumble of your husband's voice and his gentle presence. And most lovely of all, the adorable coos coming from the life you created.

Your eyes shifted over to the kitchen table, where a tall glass vase with flowers sat. You had woken up this morning to Harry helping your daughter hold a pretty bouquet of peonies to present to you. It came with a note that read, You make our hearts bloom. We love you.

Life was chaotic lately, yet so very blissful.

Harry was humming now as he threw the toothpick away and set the dipped strawberries in the fridge to harden. The plump red flesh encased in delectable chocolate made your mouth water. Such a simple recipe, yet somehow Harry made them taste better than a gourmet baker ever could.

He shut the fridge and moved to the sink to wash his hands. He must have sensed your gaze because he looked over his shoulder and smiled. Just the sight of him in this new role caused a swell of emotion to crash against your chest and crack your heart open.

"I've got an audience," he remarked.

You just stared at his hands supporting your daughter's small body—beautiful, sculpted, and what you had been missing desperately on your skin. It was embarrassing to admit that ever since giving birth, the closest you and Harry had gotten to any sexual intimacy was dry humping. Even then, your stitches had still been healing, so the experience was never quite satisfactory. It was no surprise that you were growing impatient.

"What?" Harry asked, noticing your strange silence.

"Nothing," you murmured, feigning nonchalance.

He chuckled and leisurely walked over to you. "You're blushing."

Your palms flew to your cheeks. "I am?"

"Big time. Are you feeling okay?"

"I... yes, I'm just"—you fanned your overheated face—"feeling a lot of things right now."

His brows scrunched together. Men were so lucky not to experience the rollercoaster of female hormones. You would sound asinine if you attempted to explain why your body was responding to him doing nothing but being a good father.

"I'm stressing you out," Harry stated as a guess.

"Not at all."

"You're having a hot flash?” he guessed again.

“No.”

“Uh… you caught a fever?”

Groaning, you dropped your head face-first onto the couch and mumbled, "I need sex."

"Say it again, please?"

You lifted your head and avoided eye contact as you repeated, "I need sex. I'm healed, and I want to take advantage of this urge before it goes away." Because it would. Your hormones were still regularizing post-birth, so you weren't going to count on getting your libido back to complete normalcy. Instead, you would pounce on every open opportunity.

Harry contemplated your confession for a while, making no show of judgment. "Any blood?" he asked.

"Nope."

"And the stitches?"

"They're dissolved. Can't even tell I pushed a nearly ten-pound baby out."

He smiled, albeit cautiously. "But how do you feel?"

"I'm fine, Harry," you assured. "If you're not feeling it, we don't have to do anything. Just, you know, giving you the green light."

A shadow of sincerity passed over his face. "Who said I'm not feeling it?" You shrugged, and he gently grabbed your chin to raise it. "Look at me." His green eyes held your gaze steadily. "You wanna try?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "I miss you."

"You have me," he said resolutely. "All of me, tonight."

"Oh," you said, not expecting him to jump on board so eagerly.

"Let's shoot for eight o'clock. When the little one goes to bed."

You broke out into a giggle. "So... a sex appointment."

Now it was his turn to blush. "I heard scheduling sex is supposed to help new parents reconnect."

A rush of heat spread to the tips of your fingers. You thought of the multiple instances when you and Harry consolidated spontaneity and sex. It often sprung upon you without warning, like a carnal beast clawing at your skin. And it always involved mutual desire, like a burning ball of tension the size of the sun. The house was memory-stained with reminders of all the ways your body had been worshiped. Over by the kitchen island, Harry had held you captive with his hips pressed flush against yours. The bay window in the living room had sometimes been blemished with handprints. But the bed in which you sleep and wake up to him every morning was where long, intense sessions happened. Harry slowly sliding into you during weekend sleep-ins, providing a warmth and fullness so heavenly. Late-night quickies after being away from each other all day, a little messy yet perfect all the same. Hell, you had even done it in the ocean under the moon. You wanted nothing more than to find that natural groove again.

"Okay." You reached out to squeeze his bicep. "I believe you."

"All right," he replied in the deep, sensual tone he reserved for intimate conversations like these. You looked downward, feeling giddy. Within milliseconds, Harry planted a hot, heavy kiss on your lips before walking away.

With the way your heart fluttered, one would think you had just met him. But you knew his body exclusively, as he knew yours, and tonight would be a test.

——

You stood in the doorway of your closet, sifting through the three pairs of lingerie you owned. They were lacy little one-pieces in off-white, powder blue, and red. It was doubtful they would fit like they used to, but you craved wearing something other than baggy sweats and Harry's shirts. While it gave you pride that you grew life, an insecurity still planted its pesky seed inside. You hadn't looked at your bare body in the mirror since, honestly, you didn't have a clue. It would never look the same again, especially considering you didn't plan to only have one child.

There was a nervous tremor in your hands as you took the red lingerie off its hanger—a slimming color to hide the loose, extra skin that still remained postpartum. You thought about Harry and how he liked to strip away every last piece of fabric blocking him from his touch. Even before pregnancy, during sex, you had never felt the need to accentuate your physicality with frilly, feminine garments. Harry took you in just about anything. Unfortunately, as new parents, there was simply not enough time or energy to initiate anything more than mediocre makeouts. You felt foolish for even bringing up the prospect of sex earlier. Now there was an expectation, and you couldn't guarantee you wouldn't chicken out.

Why were you so jittery? He was your husband, for crying out loud. There was no one you felt more comfortable around.

With a huff, you started undressing yourself just as the sound of the blow dryer stopped. Harry would be ready any minute for this supposed sex appointment. Meanwhile, you were out of practice, self-conscious, and hopelessly horny—he was going to regret agreeing to this.

You tugged the lingerie on, feeling it cinch your torso and breasts. It was tight, the flimsy fabric holding on for dear life. The V-shaped cut revealed the stretch marks lining your hips. The lace was itchy and dug into your skin suffocatingly. Fuck, this was quickly turning into a self-enforced humiliation ritual.

The bathroom door slid open, and Harry emerged in just a pair of white boxers, his hair dry and fluffy. The leftover shower steam made his skin glow, as did the dim lighting. He was effortlessly handsome, while you stood there in too-tight lingerie wondering if you looked desirable enough to stimulate his sex drive. From your perspective, all signs pointed to not likely.

Harry slowly walked toward you, his eyes exploring every inch of your body, and you leaned against the wall while fidgeting with the lingerie's shoulder straps. In the silence of his appraisal, you awkwardly shuffled your feet—it was futile to fake confidence right now.

"My forever Valentine," Harry said quietly, immediately attaching his hands to your waist.

You practically whined, then muttered, "I look ridiculous."

"You're joking, right?" He bent his knees to be eye level with you, a near-crazed look on his face. "Right?"

"It barely fits, Harry."

A slow smirk stretched his lips. "That better not be the only time you say that tonight."

You glared at him for his crude joke and said, "This is silly."

"What is?"

"This whole... rendezvous."

"I think it's fun," Harry said with a carefree shrug.

"But it's different from other times," you admitted.

"How so?" He kissed your neck, his affection warm and a welcome distraction to your disoriented thoughts. He smelled ravishing, the subtle hints of his spice and black vanilla shower cleanser putting you under a spell. A pulse of appetency made you press against him.

"My body," you said.

His hands traveled to your backside, squeezing the flesh there. "This body? The one I'd get down on my knees for?"

In one fell swoop, all your internal heat returned with a rush. "It's kind of a mess," you replied. "I haven't shaved. And my stomach looks like a wrinkly prune, so there's that."

Harry traced his thumb under the lacy hem hugging your hips. "Doesn't bother me. Prunes are delicious."

Deep down, you knew he wouldn't care. He had loved every part of you through pregnancy, with all its mind-bending changes and symptoms. If he had found you sexy then, he would appreciate your appearance now. Though it would take time for you to truly believe it.

"I just want this to be good," you murmured, resting your forehead on his firm chest.

"Hey." He lifted your head and cradled it. "We'll find a way to make this work. Let's take it slow." You nodded, and he leaned closer to whisper, "I know how to get you wet. Don't think I've forgotten."

Truthfully, you were already wet, but you didn't say anything as Harry grabbed your hand and squeezed it before guiding you to the bed. While he had been taking a shower, you had fluffed the pillows and straightened the sheets. You had even sat there and mentally filtered through what positions would be most reasonable. Sex was to be careful tonight. No need for anything crazy.

You climbed into bed, and Harry remained standing. The outline of his hardened cock pushed against his boxers. A flame ignited low in your belly—to get to have him inside you after so long was exhilarating.

When he didn't move to join you, you asked, "What are you doing?"

"Following your lead," he said. "Where do you want me?"

"Um... on your side, I guess. Next to me."

Harry didn't waste any time and got into position, his hand propping his head up. There was an expectant openness in his eyes, and you almost laughed. This was out of the ordinary, but it somehow eased your nerves.

"I want to face each other," you added. "And I... I want you to do that thing where you hold my leg up against your hip."

He hummed, his eyes flashing with something lustful. "Understood. But you're going to have to take your lingerie off."

"Right." You swallowed nervously. "I'll do that."

You stripped while Harry removed his boxers and rolled on a condom. He watched your breasts bounce free, watched the lace slide down your torso and legs. It was your armor against the reality that your body wasn't the same as the one Harry had touched for the first time. But you trusted him and his admiration for the life you brought into the world. There was nothing to be ashamed of.

You lie bare beside Harry now. His gaze turned fond, taking in all of you—no judgment, no confusion, no surprise. But why would there be? He'd been there when your pants stopped fitting during pregnancy. When you hadn't been able to shave anything below your bump. When you had needed help getting off the couch. Christ, he had seen you give birth. It didn't get much more intimate than that.

"Come here," Harry said softly. You scooted down to lie on the mattress facing him. "You're beautiful. This version of your body isn't something to dwell on. Every stretch mark, every wrinkle, every curve is a testament to your amazing ability to grow life."

You were speechless, so you just sprung forward and kissed him.

"Ready?" He smiled against your mouth, and you returned it.

"Ready."

"I'm going to go slow. Tell me if it hurts." Harry grabbed his cock, holding the tip against your entrance. Without you needing to remind him, he bent your leg to rest against his hip, opening you further. He slid himself in, only an inch or two, keeping his eyes locked on yours. It was slow, like he promised, but there was a slight burning sensation. You inhaled sharply and gripped his wrist.

"Too fast?"

You moaned, half in pleasure and half in discomfort. "No, it just... feels rough. Even with the condom on."

"Okay. I won't go further."

"Maybe go deeper and it'll stop."

"No," Harry said, pulling out. "I'm not about to risk making you bleed or delaying your healing. Absolutely not."

"But—”

"But nothing. Your body's obviously not ready yet, and that's okay."

"I'm sorry," you whispered sadly.

"Don't be," he said, stroking your hair. "You thought you were healed, but it's hard to know for sure without actually having sex."

You let out a disappointed sigh. "Well, this was a bust. Back to dry humping for the foreseeable future."

"I'm not complaining." Harry rolled onto his back, then yanked the sheets over his boner. 

"You're serious?"

He patted his lap. "Hop on, baby."

Laughing, you straddled him for yet another clumsy experience. But with his determination to make it enjoyable, it would be perfectly imperfect.

——

[bitchface24-7]

THE SEDUCTIVE PROFESSOR VIKTOR

synopsis: Professor Viktor, the most sought out and dreamt of professor at Piltover Academy. Luckily for you… you’re his favourite student.

warnings: age gap (viktor’s gotta be anywhere in his 30s-40s to be a professor, reader is in their 20s (early to late I don’t really care) ), power imbalance, dom!viktor, I tried my best to make this gender-neutral, this isn’t gonna be a full on story, just bullet points I come up with, no beta we die like most of the characters in Arcane

genre: m/f, m/m (however you label yourself, I hope you can read this and enjoy it!)

PART 2

Professor Viktor hasn’t been a professor for very long at the academy. After he and his partner Jayce Talis revolutionized machinery and magic in the form of Hextech, well… the academy and the council wanted their genius shared with the younger generations.

“The Science Behind Magic: HXT101” became a hit. This course had the highest approval ratings, least amount of absences, and highest amount of A students in the history of the academy.

Viktor’s proud of his students work, everyone else sees it as it is. Everyone is doing amazing due to their hot professor.

His attitude, his humour, his accent, his beauty. Professor Viktor is sin incarnate and doesn’t seem to realize it. The dreamy sighs, the lustful gazes. It all goes over his head like water down a ducks back.

Having Jayce come in as a guest speaker doesn’t help in the slightest.

The two men are gorgeous. Jayce with his broad shoulders, messy hair, and wonderful beard. A few strands of grey focused on his temples.

Viktor with his long hair, sultry eyes, lithe frame that’s mostly delectable legs. He dresses wonderfully too. All tailored to fit his frame perfectly. His tiny waist seems almost impossibly small.

Viktor tries his best to be impartial to his students; neutral as a good teacher should be… but there’s something about you.

You’re bright, intelligent, well-spoken. Overall beautiful. He can’t stop looking at you during lectures, he can’t stop thinking about you in the privacy of his own home; in his office as well.

You always pay attention in class, you ask riveting and inspiring questions, you continue the conversation Viktor is desperately trying to create to invigorate the students the way he and Jayce were all those years ago.

Your pretty eyes, soft looking lips, shiny hair. The way the academy uniform compliments your figure in all the right ways. He’s a man obsessed.

He knows you’re at least physically attracted to him. The way you bite your lip when you look at him, when you shyly look down when he compliments your work with a sultry “good job”

How you jolt in your seat from daydreaming when he comes up behind you and whispers in your ear to pay attention.

He wants to see how you react to other stimuli. A practical theory if you will.

Will you be good and listen to Viktor’s every command? Or will you be bratty; needing to be put over Viktor’s lap and your ass reddened to be taught a lesson. Would you prefer his hand, a ruler, or maybe even his cane?

How pretty would you look on your knees, taking his cock down your throat? Would your eyes water? Would you choke? Or are you secretly a slut, who can take it no problem.

Are you a moaner, a whimperer, a screamer, or a crier?

He knows his blatant desires for you are cementing you as his “favourite student” you can do things others can only dream of.

You can come to class late and not need a valid excuse, you can borrow any materials without reasoning, you can stay as late as you want during office hours; when anyone else would be politely but firmly told that their time was up.

People have noticed, everyone but you it seems. The rest of the class can’t help but envy you. How the hell do you have such a drop dead gorgeous man wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even realize it!

You’re going to realize it soon, when Viktor tells you to stay behind after class. That he has a theory he’d like to discuss with you.

That theory leaves you with your face feeling like it’s on fire, your throat sore, your body aching in a delicious way, your legs bowed, and your appearance completely disheveled.

Viktor gets the answers he’s been desperately craving and is not disappointed. He can’t wait for the semester to be over. He wants you, and he can pursue you when he’s no longer your professor.

He just gave you a taste of what he’ll give you everyday if you agree to be his.

(You’ll agree to be his. He rocked your shit)

[jellyfishsthings]

Say It Again and I’ll Kill You

navigation , dc navigation

WARNINGS: funny miscommunication, Damian's pride, AGED UP! Damian

requests are open

dividers by @cafekitsune

The air in the study crackled with a tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Outside, the Gotham drizzle mirrored the tempest brewing within its oak-paneled walls. He stood by the window, a silhouette etched against the grey sky, his posture rigid, his jaw a hard line. You leaned against the overflowing bookshelf, arms crossed, trying to project an air of calm that felt increasingly fraudulent.

We were, as was becoming tragically routine, locked in a battle of wills. The subject, as always, was your well-being, specifically your insistence on handling a particularly delicate matter involving a rather unsavory character who believed threats were a valid form of negotiation. His argument, delivered with the icy precision he often employed, was that . You were jeopardizing myself unnecessarily and that, as someone who cared (the word was always laced with a barely-concealed reluctance), he felt obliged to intervene.

Your argument, which you considered infinitely more reasonable, was that you were perfectly capable of handling myself. You weren't some simpering damsel in distress. You were a grown woman, a woman who had navigated treacherous boardrooms and outmaneuvered seasoned con artists. You were, in short, not in need of his paternalistic protection.

He simply couldn't seem to grasp it.

"It's reckless," he finally said, his voice a low rumble that barely registered above the drumming of the rain. "You're courting danger for the sake of… what? Proving a point?"

"I'm not courting danger," You retorted, your voice sharper than you intended. "I'm handling a situation. And for the last time, darling, I can take care of myself."

The words hung in the air, a grenade tossed into the already volatile atmosphere. He went utterly still. It was the kind of stillness that precedes a storm, the calm before the deluge. He didn't react, didn't twitch, didn't even seem to breathe. He simply stood there, a statue carved from granite, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the rain-streaked window.

Then, with a deliberate slowness that only amplified the tension, he turned. His eyes, usually a cool, calculating grey, were suddenly dark, almost black.

"What did you just call me?"

The question was deceptively soft, a silken thread woven with steel. He wasn't yelling, wasn't raising his voice, but the sheer intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

A reckless impulse, a perverse desire to poke the sleeping bear, surged through me. You knew you should apologize, should backtrack, should pretend you hadn't said it. But the defiant part of me, the part that bristled under his constant, albeit well-intentioned, supervision, refused to yield.

You forced a smirk, a calculatedly provocative expression. "I said darling. What, can't take a pet name, princeling?"

The silence that followed was deafening. He stared at me, his expression unreadable, a mask of carefully controlled displeasure. You could practically see the gears turning in his brilliant, infuriating mind, calculating, analyzing, plotting his next move.

Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked out. The door closed behind him with a soft, deliberate click, leaving you alone in the echoing silence of the study.

A wave of guilt, quickly followed by a stubborn sense of defiance, washed over me. He was being ridiculous. He was being overprotective. He was being… well, Damian.

The next day passed in a state of uneasy truce. He was present at the office, but he was distant, aloof, treating you with a detached politeness that was far more unnerving than any argument. He spoke to you only when necessary, his voice devoid of any warmth or inflection. It was as if you had been demoted from a… a something to a mere colleague, a face in the crowd.

You spent the day alternately regretting your impulsive words and stubbornly refusing to apologize. He was the one being unreasonable, wasn't he? He was the one turning a simple phrase into a personal affront.

By evening, you were a mess of frayed nerves and conflicting emotions. You were halfway through a glass of wine, wrestling with a particularly thorny paragraph in a report, when a shadow fell across your desk.

You looked up to find him standing there, his expression as inscrutable as ever. In his hands, he held a small, elaborately wrapped package. It wasn't for me. You knew that instinctively.

He placed the package silently on your desk, close to the sleeping form of Mr. Fluffernutter, your perpetually grumpy Persian cat, who clearly saw Damian's presence as an unbearable intrusion.

"If you insist on calling me such things," he finally said, his voice low and clipped, "at least be consistent. I am not fragile."

Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.

You stared at the package, then at Mr. Fluffernutter, who blinked at you with an expression of profound disinterest. You carefully unwrapped the gift. It was a ridiculously extravagant cat toy, a miniature throne of intricately carved wood, complete with a tiny velvet cushion and a feather-tipped scepter.

It was absurd. It was ridiculous. It was utterly, undeniably… Damian.

A grin spread across your face.

He was impossible. He was infuriating. He was, without a doubt, the most complicated, exasperating, and undeniably compelling man You had ever known.

The following day, you found him in the library, surrounded by stacks of books, his brow furrowed in concentration. You approached him cautiously, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Morning, darling," You said, your voice deliberately sweet.

He didn't look up. "Good morning."

"Enjoying your reading?"

"Yes," he replied curtly.

You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, for someone who claims to be impervious to pet names, you seem awfully preoccupied with them."

He finally looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I am merely attempting to understand the… the logic behind your… your…" he trailed off, clearly struggling with the word.

"Affection?" You supplied helpfully.

He rolled his eyes. "Let us not exaggerate."

You grinned. "No, you're just my darling pain in the ass."

He paused, considering your words, his expression softening ever so slightly. For a moment, You thought he might actually smile.

He didn’t disagree. Instead, he simply returned to his book, a faint hint of color rising in his cheeks.

The truce, it seemed, was holding. But you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your bones, that this was just the beginning. The battle of wills, the playful jabs, the underlying, unspoken affection – it was all part of our dance, a complex, intricate tango that we would continue to perform, each of us determined to lead, neither of us willing to truly surrender. And perhaps, that was exactly the way it was supposed to be. After all, what was life without a little darling dilemma?

[jungwondazed]

18+ only. / desperate passionate sex with jungwon

he comes onto you in the middle of the night, catching you off guard as you were just about to fall asleep.

"j-jungwon i don't- understand" you breathe out the words in between the breaks he pulls from your lips, leaning back in to kiss you harder than the previous.

there are moments, not often, when he gets this way and it is something you ponder every time he works his mouth deep into yours. he kisses you like it was the first time, the last time. jungwon is making out like he has something to confess, that there's too much on his mind to speak in words, that giving it to you like this is the best way for him to say anything.

you kiss him back regardless of the questions racing through your head. this isn't a kiss he initiates because he was simply turned on, there was a certain desperation behind his movements that makes you lean into his body, to connect with him in the way he needs.

his moans are long, drawn out, as if there was nothing else that mattered in the world but the pleasure you two share with each other.

with his mouth still attached to yours he pulls off your thin pajama set, lips slowly working down your neck, to your collarbones, and then your chest. your head falls back from the overwhelming sensation of his warm and soft tongue, fingers digging in his hair, pulling at it gently as he stimulates your entire body.

you know jungwon a bit too well. when he's horny, he initiates sex in his snarky teasing manner that always has you high and bothered. but when you find yourself tending to his needs, softening your touches, letting him have at you as a natural reaction to his desperation, you're more than aware that the sex he wants is far from just the physicality, jungwon was craving for a deep emotional connection and sometimes this was the best he could go about it.

he comes off confident, carrying himself like he had it all figured out. but throughout your time with him, you've learned that there is a small part deep down that seeks for validation and comfort, searching in places he can't necessarily figure out himself.

he breaks the kiss to peel his thin white sleep shirt off, immediately finding your lips again when he tosses it to the side. he wraps his arm under your waist to press your stomach close to his, pulling off his pajama bottoms and lining himself into you. you gasp as he sinks in slow, struggling a whine that's stuck between his throat and mouth.

jungwon's moans are full of longing and desperation, and your heart aches feeling him so troubled from such desire.

"i'm r-right h-here, jungwon" you whimper out between his thrusts, and he groans into your neck as a response.

"i'm yours, however y-you want me."

he fits good inside you, it's hard to form the right words to tell him how you truly feel. but despite your poor articulation of emotions to words, he reacts in a way that lets you know he's taking in everything you're saying and doing. he thrusts into you deeper and harder, bringing both his arms to wrap around your entire body, holding you so tight as if any less of a grip would have your falling right through his fingers, as if he was too capable of losing you.

[inthelittlewood]

Mr Martyn it’s come to my attention that some people don’t know what a hold you had on early Minecraft days, aka: they didn’t know you did Minecraft parodies.

How do you feel about the fact some people don’t know an integral part of your YouTuber lore?

Yuuuuuup, I've been around from the start basically. Began playing in 2010, started content early 2011.

I think because I was solely MC for my first year or two then branched out to variety content in the years that followed, that may have impacted people's awareness or association with MC. I was never in any major SMPs either like the Mianites or others (I did join Tekkit briefly but it just wasn't my vibe)

But yeah... I've done a lot.

- Attended Minecon Vegas

- Released Form This Way very close to TNT, so THAT old, as well as other MC parodies

- Played in the first Noxcrew Gameshow which went on to become MCC

- Hosted MC Live for Mojang with other creators

And that's just a few things. Somebody did make a whole iceberg image which I reacted to once lol

I mentioned it in a song lyric once in a TikTok post that "I'm overlooked as an OG", which I feel is true but it's also not something I'm bitter about. I'm not looking to be on any Minecraft rushmores ha - I'm just grateful I've been able to spend my entire adult life thus far being my own boss and doing such a fun/creative job

If there's any kind of validation I seek, it's from my peers, which does feel present. I've been trusted by everyone from Hermits to Yogscast, Noxcrew to POW to bring value to their products in all kinds of way, comedic, professional and creative. So that really fills my cup / confidence

So yeah. I don't have retirement money and will be forgotten a lot quicker than others but I'm very proud of what I've done and hopefully will do 😊

[hugsandnoregrets]

one of the cringier forms of virtue signalling on tumblr to me is people acting willfully obtuse and pretending that they don't know what a metaphor or basic storytelling devices are (while half their blog posts are humblebragging/complaining about being a 'gifted child') so they can dunk specifically on taylor swift.

like i'll never get over the reaction to the 'sexy baby' line, where she is referencing both a joke in a popular sitcom, and the 'born sexy yesterday' trope that tumblr frothed over the mouth about how succinct and astute of an analysis it was - but then pretended to take it as literally as possible to call a famous woman 'creepy' and 'weird' when she's relating it to her experiences of feeling tall/huge/taking up too much space/being a villain/monster on the hill vs. the expectation of a small childlike innocent young woman who makes herself act like a tiny weak baby for male validation.

and then they pretended the asylum she was referencing was... her childhood home? and not the music industry she was in since she was 15? the one that slut-shamed her, body-shamed her, stalked her, threatened her, created parasocial relationships with her, and expects everything out of her - but no, everyone played willfully dumb so they could call her privileged for thinking her upper class childhood home was an 'asylum' even when it clearly wasn't the intent.

acting like "the man" is talking about every man on earth and not herself but a man. a rich, white, talented, able bodied man. y'know, like leonardo dicaprio, who she directly references. but no no, she's saying her life would be easier even if she was the most oppressed man on earth. yep. ignore every lyric in the song to tell yourself that.

and finally the horribly cringe way they react to her storytelling songs. simultaneously whining that she only sings about her love life, then screaming about how she 'never cleaned up a house so why is she referencing that in her song!!!!' when she's clearly telling a story. like.

does it feel good? to pretend you haven't gone further than 4th grade reading classes so that you can dunk on someone you don't like?

[cyberclouddream]

The Moon through the Houses

The Moon represents our emotional motivations and how we seek comfort and security. It’s also connected to maternal influences, our subconscious patterns, our capacity for nurturing and empathy, and how we process our feelings and replenish our emotional energy.

Moon in the 1st House:

- their emotions are readily apparent, often shaping how others perceive them

- their self-image is tied to their emotions

- strong instinct to nurture others

- react strongly to their environment and feelings of others

- often display emotions in public

- prefer familiar environments and routines out of anxiety

Moon in the 2nd House:

- feel anxious about money and find comfort in accumulating wealth

- strong attachments to family values and traditions

- self-worth influenced by financial status and material possessions

- nurture others through material or financial resources

- reckless spending during emotional highs and lows

- good financial intuition

Moon in the 3rd House:

- may find it hard to communicate without getting emotional

- strong ties to siblings, neighbors, or close friends

- pursue and learn subjects that resonate with their feelings

- in-tune with the emotions of others, making them a good listener

- often dwell on emotional experiences, leading to overthinking

Moon in the 4th House:

- feel most secure when surrounded by family or families environments

- mother or maternal figures strongly influence you, maybe to the point of emotions dependence

- often dwell on memories

- tend to keep their emotions private

- home is their sanctuary, which they invest heavily in

- changes in home dynamics have a strong impact

- exploring their roots and heritage can be very healing and therapeutic

Moon in the 5th House:

- channel emotions into creative projects

- seek out fun relationships and enjoy flirtation and spontaneity; unpredictable love life

- strong maternal instincts, especially when it comes to children or passions

- emotional and nostalgic attachment to hobbies

- seek validation and recognition in their romantic affairs and creative projects

Moon in the 6th House:

- emotions heavily influence work ethic and coworkers

- nurture others through acts of service

- emotional stability benefits strongly from structured routines

- have a knack for identifying problems and finding solutions based on gut feelings

- work may be a form of emotional healing

Moon in the 7th House:

- seek partners who can offer emotional support and security

- highly attuned to the emotions and needs of their partners

- go to great lengths to keep the peace; avoid conflict

- emotional state impacts your commitment level

- project your emotions onto your partners, causing misinterpretation

Moon in the 8th House:

- struggle with opening up to others

- obsessive feelings or fixations, especially in relationships

- fascinated by the unseen, the occult, or psychology

- past traumas or intense emotions around inheritances or shared resources

- end up very transformative relationships

- heal best through vulnerability

Moon in the 9th House:

- feel fulfilled when exploring different cultures or ideologies

- nurture through teaching

- idealistic or romanticized views of life

- family background may be tied to learning or traveling

- emotions vary with intellectual pursuits

- innate ability to connect with others from diverse backgrounds on an emotional level

- use philosophical or spiritual practices for emotional support

Moon in the 10th House:

- feel fulfilled or drained based off career success or failures, seeking validation through work achievements

- invested in how others perceive their work, valuing praise

- mother or maternal figure may inspire their career choices

- workplace greatly influences emotional health

- overly attached to career aspirations, and may struggle with balancing personal life

Moon in the 11th House:

- feel most fulfilled when surrounded by supportive friends

- desire group acceptance, mood fluctuating based on how well they fit in

- highly reactive to social injustices or causes that matter to friend group

- fear social rejection to the point of burnout

- exhibit intense loyalty to friends, sometimes to a fault

- social circles may change frequently

Moon in the 12th House:

- have a rich inner world that others struggle to understand, leading to feelings of loneliness

- require periods of solitude to recharge and process your emotions

- find healing in introspection, like journaling and meditating

- strong empathy for other people’s struggles

- dreams are a great tool to reveal unresolved issues or insights about your emotion world

- instead of feeling emotions you may analyze or intellectualize them

- natural healing abilities or desire to work in therapeutic fields

[hermajestyimher]

I’ve entered a new phase in my life where I’ve come to the conclusion that I must remain independent of relational influence, regardless of who is or isn’t by my side. I’ll always be a strong proponent of community and the importance of doing life with others, but the truth is, we live in a world that increasingly rewards individuality and where people being fickle, inconsistent, and often unable to form deep, lasting bonds has become the new and accepted norm.

After multiple disappointments, I’ve decided to take my power back. How? By adopting a healthy, grounded, and stoic approach to relationships, one that aligns with the “let them” theory. That means I show up fully as myself, unapologetically. If I’m not palatable to someone, I let them react however they want without letting it sway or shake me. I no longer chase acceptance or bend to meet people’s expectations. Continuing to expose yourself to rejection or let downs continually is a form of self-abuse that is almost never discussed about; one that deeply harms our sense of self and inner worth without us consciously realizing it.

I’ve also begun using subliminals strategically to reprogram my mind and heal the past wounds that once made me crave validation, leading to anxious attachments and unnecessary stress. It's important to remember that no matter who chooses to walk with us, we must remain committed to our own happiness. That happiness should never be dependent on our proximity to others or access to relationships.

This mindset isn’t about hyper-individualism (which I continue to reject), it’s about reclaiming your power and staying grounded no matter what life brings your way, especially in the realm of community and connection. Relationships require all the involved parties to be willing to their part in making them work, if that's not happening, it's time to try a different approach. We can't control others, but we can control ourselves. If they want to be part of your life, great, if not, that is also great.

[theambitiouswoman]

Attachment Styles in Relationships

Attachment styles are the ways people feel and act in relationships, based on their early experiences with parent or guardian. There are four main types:

Secure Attachment:

Healthy: Feeling comfortable with your partner and being able to share your feelings and needs openly. Trusting them and supporting each other without feeling overly worried about the relationship.

Unhealthy: Becoming overly dependent on your partner, feeling anxious or upset if they spend time away, or constantly seeking reassurance and validation.

Anxious Attachment:

Healthy: Expressing your emotions and needs to your partner, and valuing emotional closeness. Feeling secure when your partner reassures you and staying connected during difficult times.

Unhealthy: Constantly worrying about your partner leaving you, feeling jealous and possessive, or becoming too clingy and demanding in the relationship.

Avoidant Attachment:

Healthy: Valuing your independence and personal space while still being supportive and caring toward your partner. Understanding your emotions and expressing them in a balanced way.

Unhealthy: Pushing your partner away emotionally, avoiding discussions about feelings or conflicts, or being emotionally distant and unavailable.

Disorganized Attachment:

Healthy: Recognizing and addressing past traumas, working on building trust and emotional stability.

Unhealthy: Reacting impulsively or unpredictably in relationships due to unresolved traumas, struggling with forming and maintaining deep emotional connections, or experiencing extreme emotional highs and lows.