#how to stay consistent in language learning

[slasherslittlesimp]

Cursed (Avengers X Reader)

Series Masterlist

Part Six

Cap- who finally introduced himself as Steve- leads you down multiple hallways. He seems to be feeling quite awkward in your presence as he continuously glances at you. You almost expect the entire walk to be in silence until he finally speaks up.

"Until we can get more things figured out you'll be staying in a guest room. Every room is equipped with Friday, Tony's AI, so if you need anything you can just let her know. If you can't talk to the AI you can simply write down your request for her to scan or sign it once you learn."

You nod along as he continues to explain things. Your main concern is communication with the others. You've never tried speaking to AI before so you're unsure if your abilities will affect it at all. What you do know is that you need to learn sign language to make things easier on yourself and the others. Your lack of writing skills will only be a hinderance.

Steve stops outside of a room, motioning towards it as he turns towards you with a small sigh. "This will be your room. There's a bathroom inside so you can go ahead and shower. I'll have one of the girls get clothes for you. They tend to keep extra clothes in different sizes just in case so one of them should have something for you."

He leaves you alone after that so you can finally take your first shower in weeks. You almost feel a bit excited as you rush into the bathroom, staring around in awe at the large size of it. It's bigger than your old cell was which is ridiculous.

Everything looks expensive, as well. The shower is a walk in with glass doors and is large enough to fit more than one person in it comfortably. The tub is also unnecessarily large and you're almost certain it could fit three of you in it. Everything else seems basic yet still expensive looking in it's own way. You feel like you don't belong in there with how filthy you are compared to the cleanliness of everything.

You push the sudden thoughts away knowing there's no point in comparing yourself to anything or anyone within the large building. Sighing, you slowly strip yourself of your tank top and baggy torn pants, avoiding looking at the wall covered in mirrors as you do so. It's been a long time since you've last seen your body and now doesn't feel like the time to look it over to see how much it has changed. Perhaps you will after the shower.

It takes you a moment to figure out how to start the shower and even longer for you to fiddle with everything to get the water to the perfect temperature. Stepping under the stream you sigh, your body instantly relaxing under the hot water. You stand there for a while simply enjoying the feeling of the water running over your body before finally using the provided soaps to wash your hair and body.

You cringe as you watch filthy water pool at your feet before swirling down the drain. You're certain that from the amount of dirt coming from you, you must've looked disgusting to the others. Then again, none of them really showed any indication that they cared about anything other than getting you out of the Hydra base.

Finally forcing yourself out of the shower after what feels like hours, you enter the bedroom wrapped in a towel. There's a pile of clothes waiting for you on the bed consisting of underwear, sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt. Slipping into the clothes, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You've been so used to wearing the straight jacket that wearing such a baggy shirt feels like heaven. At the same time it also feels a bit unnatural.

The sudden feelings of tears flowing steadily down your cheeks startles you. Reaching up, you shakily try to wipe them away only for more to replace them. A sob wracks through you as you sit down on the bed, pulling your knees to your chest. The feeling of finally being free is almost too much to handle.

Between the memory wiping and being placed into cryo for weeks or months at a time makes it impossible for you to truly know how long you were stuck in that hell. You know that you were with them since you were extremely young at the very least but that does nothing to tell you of how exactly long that was.

A light knock at your door makes you jump, choking slightly on one of your sobs. You debate with yourself on whether or not you should let them in. You haven't felt vulnerable or exposed like this in a very long time and the idea of someone seeing like this is unnerving.

The decision seems to be made for you as the door creaks open a bit as someone peaks their head into the room. You recognize it to be the young female from the jet who was sat next to the man with a bow. She gives you a gentle smile as she steps into the room, gently clicking the door closed behind her.

"It's a bit overwhelming, huh?" Her voice has an accent to it as she speaks softly to you, obviously trying to come across as anything but a threat. You hesitate before nodding, moving to wipe more tears from your marked cheeks. "It will get easier with time. When I first left Hydra and joined the Avengers, I was scared and overwhelmed. Luckily for me I had my brother by my side to help me through it."

She pauses before sitting down on the bed next to you, making sure to move slowly as to not scare you. There's a few inches of space between the two of you so she doesn't touch you without your permission. "I would like to be here to help you through it, if you allow me."

She hesitantly reaches out, giving you time to pull away. When you don't, she gently grabs your hand, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance.  You almost start crying again just from the kind gesture. It's probably been a lifetime since you last experienced a caring touch.

Noticing your still watering eyes, she slowly pulls you into her arms, holding you against her as you break down for a second time. One hand runs through your damp hair while the other rubs soothing circles on your back. She whispers reassurances in another language, only a few words being recognizable to you.

You sit in her arms for nearly an hour before Friday alerts the both of you to dinner being ready. You pull away from her, embarrassed but thankful. She gives you an understanding smile as she stands, holding her hand out for you to take. You slip your shaking hand into her strong and steady one, the difference helping to soothe your nervousness.

You're terrified to meet the others, but having her by your side eases that feeling a small bit. It helps you know that even if the others reject you, she will be there for you through it all.

Taglist: @desiree-lee @seventeen-x @svtbpbts @that-b-word-lol @keshet2k @cl0u-dy @randoes-world @nynxtea @cinnamoroll-things @emily2003alzaga @cookiemonstermusic258 @qardasngan @ashhlsstuff @worthless-wordvomit

[mylanguageclasses]

Why Do People Fail at Learning a New Language? Common Mistakes & Fixes

Learning a new language is an exciting journey that opens doors to new cultures, opportunities, and connections. However, many language learners find themselves stuck, frustrated, or even giving up altogether. Why does this happen? The truth is, language learning is a skill that requires the right strategies, mindset, and consistency. In this blog post, we’ll explore the most common mistakes…

[trans-yllz]

I've never had to be the person who Has Conversations With Parents when shit happens w kids but I had to TWICE today and both times they were very receptive and understanding but it's sooo hard to work out what you're going to say and how you're going to say it so that you don't upset the parents or have your concerns come off wrong while also making sure they fully understand the situation While there's a million children and like 12 other parents are lining up to sign their kids out 😭

[bookishdiplodocus]

The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity

(Even when life beats you down)

Look, I’m a mom, I have ADHD, I’m a spoonie. To say that I don’t have heaps of energy to spare and I struggle with consistency is an understatement. For years, I tried to write consistently, but I couldn’t manage to keep up with habits I built and deadlines I set.

So fuck neurodivergent guides on building habits, fuck “eat the frog first”, fuck “it’s all in the grind”, and fuck “you just need time management”—here is how I manage to write often and a lot.

Focus on having fun, not on the outcome

This was the groundwork I had to lay before I could even start my streak. At an online writing conference, someone said: “If you push yourself and meet your goals, and you publish your book, but you haven’t enjoyed the process… What’s the point?” and hoo boy, that question hit me like a truck.

I was so caught up in the narrative of “You’ve got to show up for what’s important” and “Push through if you really want to get it done”. For a few years, I used to read all these productivity books about grinding your way to success, and along the way I started using the same language as they did. And I notice a lot of you do so, too.

But your brain doesn’t like to grind. No-one’s brain does, and especially no neurodivergent brain. If having to write gives you stress or if you put pressure on yourself for not writing (enough), your brain’s going to say: “Huh. Writing gives us stress, we’re going to try to avoid it in the future.”

So before I could even try to write regularly, I needed to teach my brain once again that writing is fun. I switched from countable goals like words or time to non-countable goals like “fun” and “flow”.

Rewire my brain: writing is fun and I’m good at it

I used everything I knew about neuroscience, psychology, and social sciences. These are some of the things I did before and during a writing session. Usually not all at once, and after a while I didn’t need these strategies anymore, although I sometimes go back to them when necessary.

I journalled all the negative thoughts I had around writing and try to reason them away, using arguments I knew in my heart were true. (The last part is the crux.) Imagine being supportive to a writer friend with crippling insecurities, only the friend is you.

Not setting any goals didn’t work for me—I still nurtured unwanted expectations. So I did set goals, but made them non-countable, like “have fun”, “get in the flow”, or “write”. Did I write? Yes. Success! Your brain doesn’t actually care about how high the goal is, it cares about meeting whatever goal you set.

I didn’t even track how many words I wrote. Not relevant.

I set an alarm for a short time (like 10 minutes) and forbade myself to exceed that time. The idea was that if I write until I run out of mojo, my brain learns that writing drains the mojo. If I write for 10 minutes and have fun, my brain learns that writing is fun and wants to do it again.

Reinforce the fact that writing makes you happy by rewarding your brain immediately afterwards. You know what works best for you: a walk, a golden sticker, chocolate, cuddle your dog, whatever makes you happy.

I conditioned myself to associate writing with specific stimuli: that album, that smell, that tea, that place. Any stimulus can work, so pick one you like. I consciously chose several stimuli so I could switch them up, and the conditioning stays active as long as I don’t muddle it with other associations.

Use a ritual to signal to your brain that Writing Time is about to begin to get into the zone easier and faster. I guess this is a kind of conditioning as well? Meditation, music, lighting a candle��� Pick your stimulus and stick with it.

Specifically for rewiring my brain, I started a new WIP that had no emotional connotations attached to it, nor any pressure to get finished or, heaven forbid, meet quality norms. I don’t think these techniques above would have worked as well if I had applied them on writing my novel.

It wasn’t until I could confidently say I enjoyed writing again, that I could start building up a consistent habit. No more pushing myself.

I lowered my definition for success

When I say that nowadays I write every day, that’s literally it. I don’t set out to write 1,000 or 500 or 10 words every day (tried it, failed to keep up with it every time)—the only marker for success when it comes to my streak is to write at least one word, even on the days when my brain goes “naaahhh”. On those days, it suffices to send myself a text with a few keywords or a snippet. It’s not “success on a technicality (derogatory)”, because most of those snippets and ideas get used in actual stories later. And if they don’t, they don’t. It’s still writing. No writing is ever wasted.

A side note on high expectations, imposter syndrome, and perfectionism

Obviously, “Setting a ridiculously low goal” isn’t something I invented. I actually got it from those productivity books, only I never got it to work. I used to tell myself: “It’s okay if I don’t write for an hour, because my goal is to write for 20 minutes and if I happen to keep going for, say, an hour, that’s a bonus.” Right? So I set the goal for 20 minutes, wrote for 35 minutes, and instead of feeling like I exceeded my goal, I felt disappointed because apparently I was still hoping for the bonus scenario to happen. I didn’t know how to set a goal so low and believe it.

I think the trick to making it work this time lies more in the groundwork of training my brain to enjoy writing again than in the fact that my daily goal is ridiculously low. I believe I’m a writer, because I prove it to myself every day. Every success I hit reinforces the idea that I’m a writer. It’s an extra ward against imposter syndrome.

Knowing that I can still come up with a few lines of dialogue on the Really Bad Days—days when I struggle to brush my teeth, the day when I had a panic attack in the supermarket, or the day my kid got hit by a car—teaches me that I can write on the mere Bad-ish Days.

The more I do it, the more I do it

The irony is that setting a ridiculously low goal almost immediately led to writing more and more often. The most difficult step is to start a new habit. After just a few weeks, I noticed that I needed less time and energy to get into the zone. I no longer needed all the strategies I listed above.

Another perk I noticed, was an increased writing speed. After just a few months of writing every day, my average speed went from 600 words per hour to 1,500 wph, regularly exceeding 2,000 wph without any loss of quality.

Talking about quality: I could see myself becoming a better writer with every passing month. Writing better dialogue, interiority, chemistry, humour, descriptions, whatever: they all improved noticeably, and I wasn’t a bad writer to begin with.

The increased speed means I get more done with the same amount of energy spent. I used to write around 2,000-5,000 words per month, some months none at all. Nowadays I effortlessly write 30,000 words per month. I didn’t set out to write more, it’s just a nice perk.

Look, I’m not saying you should write every day if it doesn’t work for you. My point is: the more often you write, the easier it will be.

No pressure

Yes, I’m still working on my novel, but I’m not racing through it. I produce two or three chapters per month, and the rest of my time goes to short stories my brain keeps projecting on the inside of my eyelids when I’m trying to sleep. I might as well write them down, right?

These short stories started out as self-indulgence, and even now that I take them more seriously, they are still just for me. I don’t intend to ever publish them, no-one will ever read them, they can suck if they suck. The unintended consequence was that my short stories are some of my best writing, because there’s no pressure, it’s pure fun.

Does it make sense to spend, say, 90% of my output on stories no-one else will ever read? Wouldn’t it be better to spend all that creative energy and time on my novel? Well, yes. If you find the magic trick, let me know, because I haven’t found it yet. The short stories don’t cannibalize on the novel, because they require different mindsets. If I stopped writing the short stories, I wouldn’t produce more chapters. (I tried. Maybe in the future? Fingers crossed.)

Don’t wait for inspiration to hit

There’s a quote by Picasso: “Inspiration hits, but it has to find you working.” I strongly agree. Writing is not some mystical, muse-y gift, it’s a skill and inspiration does exist, but usually it’s brought on by doing the work. So just get started and inspiration will come to you.

Accountability and community

Having social factors in your toolbox is invaluable. I have an offline writing friend I take long walks with, I host a monthly writing club on Discord, and I have another group on Discord that holds me accountable every day. They all motivate me in different ways and it’s such a nice thing to share my successes with people who truly understand how hard it can be.

The productivity books taught me that if you want to make a big change in your life or attitude, surrounding yourself with people who already embody your ideal or your goal huuuugely helps. The fact that I have these productive people around me who also prioritize writing, makes it easier for me to stick to my own priorities.

Your toolbox

The idea is to have several techniques at your disposal to help you stay consistent. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket by focussing on just one technique. Keep all of them close, and if one stops working or doesn’t inspire you today, pivot and pick another one.

After a while, most “tools” run in the background once they are established. Things like surrounding myself with my writing friends, keeping up with my daily streak, and listening to the album I conditioned myself with don’t require any energy, and they still remain hugely beneficial.

Do you have any other techniques? I’d love to hear about them!

I hope this was useful. Happy writing!

[theambitiouswoman]

How to transform your life in one year:

• Practice Daily Gratitude: Focus on what’s going right instead of what’s wrong. Start each day by acknowledging three things you’re grateful for—it shifts your mindset and opens doors to more positivity.

• Embrace Solitude to Reconnect with Yourself: Spending time alone can be intimidating, but it’s where self-discovery happens. Use this time to reflect, journal, or set goals. Reinvent yourself from the inside out.

• Choose Your Circle Wisely: Surround yourself with people who uplift, inspire, and energize you. Let go of relationships that drain your spirit or pull you backward.

• Reduce Distractions: Take a break from social media, endless scrolling, and mindless entertainment. Get back your time, and use it to work on your goals or indulge in self-care.

• Focus on One Skill: Choose one skill or passion that you want to master this year. Go all in—whether it’s learning a language, writing, or a professional skill, make it your main focus and track your progress.

• Move Your Body Daily: Physical movement is essential, not just for fitness but for mental clarity. Stretch, walk, dance, or do whatever you enjoy to keep your body and mind active.

• Commit to Self-Love: Make a promise to yourself to love and accept who you are at every step of the journey. Speak kindly to yourself, honor your needs, and embrace your unique qualities.

• Get Intentional with Your Time: Instead of just letting the days pass, structure your time. Set goals for each week, prioritize what matters most, and stay consistent.

• Cultivate a Growth Mindset: Embrace challenges, learn from setbacks, and view everything as a step forward. Growth doesn’t come from comfort—it comes from resilience.

[ladies-of-fortune]

Control your body language, control the world

Why is it so important?

Body language is everything. It’s the silent superpower that influences your success in every area of life. If you can't connect with people, progress becomes impossible. Whether it’s a first date, a job interview, or making friends, your body language does the heavy lifting. It’s not always what you know but who you know. Even if you have a one in a million idea, if no one likes you, it will stay stuck at zero.

We all unconsciously give off subtle signals that reveal our true thoughts and feelings. A mere twitch of someone’s face is all it takes to express displeasure. Mastering your own signals puts you in control of how others perceive you.

The resting bitch face conundrum

If your neutral expression looks angry, sad, or afraid, you have two options:

Adjust your behaviour to compensate - Put your energy into making sure your first impression negates the vibes your resting face gives off. Once you're on more comfortable terms, you can relax and people will know that expression is just your face.

Surgery - This is an option but it's a risky one. If you go down this route, I recommend getting a procedure to fix your mouth into a neutral position rather than a permanent smile. There's a chance you'll come out looking like the joker, and your range of emotions will be restricted.

Fake smiles are worse than not smiling

Please don't fake smile, it doesn't fool anyone. I've seen a fake smile directed at me that gave the distinct impression of an ape preparing to attack, and it's haunted me ever since. A genuine smile reaches your eyes and lights up your voice. It's an infectious, unconscious energy. If you can't muster a real smile, it's better to remain neutral and true to your emotions than have others detect a falsehood from you.

Be open with your body language

Don't mute your expressions and gestures. For some this may have arisen as a defence mechanism, but in adulthood it can make you appear unapproachable. Unlearning this takes time, but its worth it. Once you feel safe to express your true feelings, your authenticity will shine. Being yourself, regardless of others’ expectations, commands respect and attracts people who genuinely like you for you.

(Of course, being authentic doesn’t mean being a public menace. There’s a line.)

Win people over with your body language

Lean in slightly during conversations to show interest.

Nod or smile occasionally while the other person talks to encourage them to keep speaking.

Use your hands when you speak to display enthusiasm.

Don’t hide your hands—it makes people subconsciously think you’re up to something shady.

Maintain good eye contact. Too little, and you seem disinterested; too much, and you risk coming off as intense. Strike a balance by aiming for natural, consistent eye contact about 70% of the time, and break away occasionally to keep it casual.

Respect personal space. Standing too close can make people uncomfortable, while standing too far might seem aloof. Aim for about an arm’s length of distance and adjust based on the other person’s comfort level.

Learn to read others

Once you master your own body language, you can start picking up on what others are saying without words. Spot their tells, mirror their movements and like magic, you’ll become “one of them.” Without quite knowing why, people will feel comfortable around you. This makes any requests or difficult conversations you'll have with them in the future much easier.

Context is key

Body language isn’t one-size-fits-all. What works in a casual setting may not translate in a formal one. Leaning back in a chair might show relaxation with friends but could come across as disengaged in a job interview. Similarly, an enthusiastic wave is great for greeting friends but may seem unfocused in a serious business meeting.

Tailor your approach to the environment and the people you’re interacting with. A little adaptability goes a long way in ensuring your body language sends the message you want it to send.

[loveemagicpeace]

🌅9th house & Energy🌅

Sun in 9th house- You travel a lot to places that inspire you. You’re not meant to stay still—geographically or spiritually. Travel isn’t just about seeing new places—it’s about becoming more of who you are. Each journey reflects a deeper truth about your identity. You find yourself on the road, in the unknown, under different skies. This Sun seeks a personal truth. Philosophy, law, and spiritual systems aren’t just subjects—they’re tools for understanding your place in the cosmos. There’s often a deep attraction to cultures, languages, and people different from you. These places mirror parts of yourself you didn’t know existed. Your identity expands each time you step outside your cultural comfort zone. You might even live abroad or have karmic ties to foreign lands. Meditation, astrology, mysticism, or sacred rituals may play a major role in how you connect with yourself. Breakthroughs often come through mystical or spiritual moments: dreams, visions, intuitive downloads. These experiences fuel your identity and help you realign when you're lost. They give your life depth and direction. You might be naturally psychic or have “knowings” that shape your decisions and growth. You’re drawn to partners who open your world—emotionally, intellectually, spiritually. You might even fall in love while traveling, studying abroad, or exploring something new.

Moon in 9th house - Travel touches you deeply. You're emotionally stirred by new places and cultures—you don't just visit places, you feelthem. Every journey can feel like a homecoming for the soul or a reflection of your inner world. You may feel called to study subjects that help explain the human experience���like psychology, theology, cultural studies, or spiritual traditions. You may feel emotionally at home in foreign places—sometimes more than in your native environment. Psychic or mystical experiences often bring emotional healing or guidance. Parenthood may be deeply spiritual or philosophical for you—you want to raise children with values and open-mindedness. In love, you seek someone who shares your beliefs or helps you explore emotional meaning. If the Moon is afflicted, emotional fluctuations or lack of rootedness might affect professional consistency. You may feel torn between career and the need for freedom or emotional alignment. If you become a parent, you may be emotionally invested in your children’s romantic choices. You could either nurture a very open-minded approach or feel conflicted if their path differs from your beliefs.

Mercury in 9th house- Mercury here loves to travel—especially to learn. You may be drawn to places with rich culture, deep philosophy, or languages to learn. You can teach other people. Mercury in this house often brings a mental connection to other countries. You may feel at ease speaking foreign languages, living abroad, or working internationally. Foreign cultures stimulate your mind, and your ideas often resonate globally. You might explore multiple spiritual paths—never blindly believing, always questioning, analyzing, absorbing. You need your beliefs to make sense, not just feel good. ou may receive guidance through symbols, synchronicities, or dreams, and then analyze and articulate what they mean. You can have a partner who speaks a different language than you. You can travel a lot and you can travel several times a year. You can gain a lot of inspiration in life from traveling. Your thoughts can be more peaceful when you travel (this relaxes your thoughts).

Venus in 9th house - Your wedding will probably be in a foreign country. You feel the romantic energy of different cultures, landscapes, and people. Love is often found abroad, or during travels, and the act of exploring brings deep emotional and sensory satisfaction. You may be drawn to study subjects that bring you into deeper connection with humanity—such as art, culture, spirituality, philosophy, or law. In a way, love itself can feel foreign, and the best relationships might come with an element of adventure or distance. You might express your love through spiritual teachings or find beauty in transcendent experiences. Venus here brings love and beauty to parenting. You may instill your children with values of compassion, beauty, and grace, and love to see them explore the world with wonder. You may have trouble aligning your career with your higher values, or you may feel stagnant if the work you do doesn’t feel beautiful or aligned with your soul’s purpose.

Mars in 9th house-There’s a restlessness in your soul that craves movement, physical challenges, and the adrenaline that comes with discovering new places.Your mind is active, and you approach studies with passion and drive, often wanting to be at the top in whatever field you choose. You’re not afraid to question authority or fight for what you believe in, especially if it aligns with your moral compass. You’re not afraid of diving headfirst into new cultures, and you may feel compelled to change things wherever you go—whether it’s through activism, teaching, or cultural exchange.You might want your children to be brave and adventurous, encouraging them to fight for their beliefs and pursue their passions. You may fall in love with someone who pushes your mental and physical boundaries, and you want a partner who shares your passionate approach to life. Because this house is also ruled by End of Life of Opposite-Sex Aunts/Uncles- Their death might push you to question your own philosophies and your approach to life’s challenges, prompting a period of action-oriented change in how you see the world. In ancient military astrology, it could indicate wars in distant lands or someone who travels to conquer or convert.

Jupiter in 9th house- it brings a blessing of expansive energy, adventure, wisdom, and growth. Jupiter is the planet of luck, expansion, higher learning, and spiritual growth. You’re likely to feel a deep sense of fulfillment when you journey to far-off lands, especially when those travels involve learning or connecting with new cultures. You may also be naturally inclined to make friends and mentors abroad. You may feel a deep need to study or teach these subjects throughout your life, and your path may lead to academic success or a career involving teaching or spiritual guidance. This placement often inspires a lifelong search for meaning and a desire to share wisdom with others. Your relationships are likely to be transformative, enlightening, and based on shared beliefs or a sense of adventure. End of Life of Opposite-Sex Aunts/Uncles- You may view their passing as a rite of passage that opens the door to new insights and understanding of life and death.

Saturn in 9th house- it’s about seeking something meaningful, whether it’s through work, learning, or personal growth. Travels may feel restricted or difficult at times, but they often bring profound life lessons. You may also have a fear of flying, foreign countries, unknown things. You may have problems believing in something in life, you may often lose meaning, hope. Spiritually, this is the placement of the pilgrim, the one who doesn’t find God or truth easily. You likely take your spiritual life seriously, dedicating time and energy to creating a solid foundation for your beliefs and practices. Throughout life, you can gain a lot of wisdom from older people. Your father can often be an inspiration for your will to live. At some point, you can also live apart from him. The loss of an opposite-sex aunt or uncle could bring a sense of duty or a reality check, sparking an introspective period of maturity and growth. In medieval astrology, Saturn in the 9th marked a person who gained wisdom late in life, through hardship or withdrawal from the world.

Uranus in 9th house-You’re the type to book a last-minute flight or find yourself on life-changing trips that weren’t planned. You’re not one to follow a conventional academic path. Uranus here makes you question systems—you might rebel against traditional education or invent your own unique way of learning. You might feel more at home abroad than where you were born. Uranus in the 9th can bring a strong attraction to foreign cultures, especially if they’re radically different from your own. Uranus may awaken psychic gifts suddenly, often in shocking or life-altering ways. Your psychic insights may come as flashes of intuition, prophetic dreams, or downloads during chaos or crisis. You may raise children with unconventional methods, encourage them to think independently, or have a child who transforms your worldview. Relationships may be unusual, free-spirited, and based on shared philosophical or spiritual views. Traditional love roles might not suit you.

Neptune in 9th house- this placement weaves fantasy, intuition, and idealism into the realms of philosophy, higher education, foreign lands, and spiritual expansion. You're drawn to places that hold mystery, sacredness, or beauty—and may even feel a past-life connection to certain lands. You're more likely to explore mysticism, metaphysics, poetry, astrology, or spiritual psychology. You might fall in love with faraway cultures. You may experience powerful visions, dreams, or awakenings. But beware of spiritual escapism—idealizing gurus, or getting lost in illusion. Your path is to trust your own soul’s compass. Spiritual gain for you comes from surrender, sensitivity, and connection to Source. You may be a natural healer, artist, or spiritual guide. You dream of soulmates. Love for you is spiritual, transcendent, even karmic. But beware of illusion or martyrdom—falling in love with potential, not reality.

Pluto in 9th house -often portends transformative travels. The individual may journey to foreign lands under intense or dramatic circumstances. Travel may change you at a soul level, leaving you forever altered. You may study forbidden texts, alchemy, or the mysteries of life and death. In classical astrology, this would be considered someone who might abandon the faith of their fathers to pursue an inner, darker truth. This placement denotes one who seeks depth over comfort. Pluto gives you an aura of mystic authority when speaking about deeper truths. You might feel like a lone wolf in your beliefs, but others can be magnetized by your depth. n some charts, Pluto here gives a ruthless hunger for justice—you may be drawn to uncover corruption in law, education, or religious institutions. You could be a reformer, a lawyer with a cause, or a whistleblower who reveals what others fear to confront. The soul yearns not for light, but for truth at any cost. Your spiritual path is not always peaceful—it is alchemical. Love may involve intense bonds, power dynamics, or karmic debts.

Chiron in 9th house-you may find that journeys to distant lands are marked by a sense of displacement, loss, or existential longing. In ancient terms, this could be the wandering philosopher, the one who never finds true belonging in any nation. Perhaps you once followed a path of faith or philosophy that betrayed or disappointed you. Foreign lands may present both healing and pain. You may feel like an outsider abroad, or experience trauma far from home. Yet, in these places, you may also find mentors, healers, or new philosophies that gently mend what was broken. You may have struggled to feel seen by the heavens. Yet over time, through suffering and humility, you become a teacher of wounded wisdom, often guiding others. Pleasure may be tinged with complexity here. As a parent, you may feel you cannot guide your children’s beliefs or journeys as you wished. Yet there is beauty here, too—a gentleness born from deep understanding, and a love that can hold others through your own trials. You may witness your child fall in love with someone from another world—culturally, spiritually, or geographically—and struggle to navigate these differences. These experiences may mirror the your own unhealed longings. Chiron in the 9th marks the wounded philosopher, the broken arrow of Apollo, ever searching for divine meaning in a fractured world. They teach not through perfection, but by their scars. Their pain becomes a lantern, lighting the way for those still lost in the dark.

-Rebekah🌅🥥🥑

[lov3lyl3tters]

“All the little things”

summary: Spencer shows his love through small, everyday acts of service—making your coffee just right, folding your laundry, stocking your favorite snacks—all quiet ways of saying “I love you” without needing the words.

warnings: Fluff, Slice of Life, acts of service, reader getting sick, Spencer being dreamy

Living with Spencer Reid meant noticing the details.

Not the dramatic ones—the sweeping romantic gestures, the overly flowery confessions, or the movie-style declarations of love. That wasn’t his style. What was his style was quieter. Simpler. And, honestly? So much better.

You saw it first in the small things.

Every morning, when you stumbled into the kitchen barely awake, your travel mug was already full—coffee, two sugars, a splash of oat milk. Spencer never asked. He just remembered.

You used to make a joke about it. “Are you reading my mind again, Dr. Reid?”

He would smile softly, always with that slightly bashful look, and say, “No, I just… pay attention.”

You never had to ask him to do the laundry. Not because it was his chore—there was never any scorekeeping—but because he always noticed when you were exhausted after a long day at the Bureau. He’d quietly sort it after dinner, folding your favorite sleep shirt last so it stayed warm when he handed it to you.

He even did it the right way—sleeves tucked in, tags folded so they wouldn’t itch your skin.

Once, after a particularly hard case, you came home and found that he had already stocked the fridge with your comfort food. Mac and cheese, those overpriced ginger sodas you liked, your favorite chocolate from that specialty store two blocks over.

“Don’t tell me you profiled me at the grocery store,” you teased, collapsing onto the couch with a tired sigh.

He smiled, setting a bowl in front of you. “You don’t have to be a profiler to know what someone needs when you love them.”

You melted on the spot.

He always made sure your phone charger was plugged in before bed, even if you’d tossed it somewhere during the day. He bookmarked your latest reads so you never lost your place. He even color-coded your shared calendar—purple for your work, blue for his, green for nights off together.

The first time you got sick while living together, you tried to brush it off. “It’s just a cold, Spence. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t buy it. He’d already rearranged his schedule, made a thermos of lemon tea, and queued up your favorite comfort show on the TV.

“You need to rest,” he said simply, sitting beside you with a tissue box and a book in hand. “I’ll be right here.”

And he was.

All day.

You weren’t even surprised when he showed up at work with a second umbrella because he checked the forecast and knew you’d forget yours. Or when your car mysteriously got new windshield wipers after you casually mentioned they were squeaky.

One night, you were both curled up on the couch, the quiet hum of the city outside your window, and he was rubbing small circles into your back without even realizing it. You turned to him and asked, “Why do you always do so much for me?”

He blinked, like it was a strange question. “Because you matter to me.”

You stared at him, heart full. “You know, you don’t have to do any of this.”

He smiled again—soft, sure, a little sheepish. “I know. That’s why I want to.”

It hit you then. His love wasn’t loud. It was consistent. Reliable. Woven into the rhythm of your daily life in ways you didn’t always notice until you paused long enough to look.

Spencer’s love language wasn’t about words or gifts or grand gestures. It was about checking the tires on your car before a long drive. About picking up your prescription on the way home. About learning how you like your eggs even though he never eats breakfast.

It was acts of service. Every day. Quietly. Faithfully.

And every time he refilled your water bottle without being asked or plugged in your curling iron because you were running late or made sure you never ran out of the lavender lotion you liked… you fell a little more in love with him.

Not because he was trying to impress you.

But because he wasn’t.

[gisezella]

HEADCANON .ᐟ

ᡣ𐭩 content — 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 / 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍-𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇. 𝗅𝖾𝗏𝗂 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾.

He doesn’t really know when it started, but he remembers when something shifted. It was just another evening, and you walked in without knocking, your hands covered in dirt, a distracted smile on your lips. Nothing special happened. You simply existed… and for some reason, that was enough to make him want to wake up the next day.

He doesn’t believe in forever, but he believes in consistency. Levi won’t promise you he’ll always be there. Not because he doesn’t want to — but because he knows too well what it means to lose. So instead, he stays. He’s there, steady, bandaging your wounds with trembling hands, offering you his silence like it’s a private language only you understand.

He watches more than he speaks. Sometimes he seems distant, like his mind is somewhere else, but in truth, he’s memorizing every detail of you — the way your brow furrows when you think, the exact sound of your laugh, the way your fingers tremble just before you cry. He knows you by heart, even if he never says it out loud.

He hates seeing you hurt, but he can’t shelter you. It’s a war inside him. Part of him wants to lock you away where nothing can touch you. But he respects your strength too much. So he trains with you, corrects you harshly, and then lies awake at night staring at the ceiling, praying you’ll never have to use what you’ve learned.

He doesn’t understand why you love him. Every time you say something kind, a part of him recoils, bracing for the moment you finally realize he’s broken. And yet, every time you look at him with unshaken, quiet affection… that hollow part of him feels a little less empty.

He’s awkward with affection, but never indifferent. He’s not one for public displays or romantic speeches. But he makes your tea the exact way you like it. He adjusts your cloak before a mission. And when no one’s watching, he brushes your cheek with his knuckles, like that small touch could shield you from the world.

He has nightmares, and he rarely lets you see it. But on the nights he can’t hide it — when his hands shake and his eyes are clouded — he doesn’t push you away. He lets you hold him, stiff at first, until his breathing matches yours. You're the only one who can calm the chaos in his chest.

He thinks his love is a curse. Everyone he’s ever cared about is gone. So he loves you with fear, with guilt, with the constant dread that one day, you’ll be next. And yet, he clings to you. Because if the world is hell, you’re the only reason he keeps walking through it.

He admires you quietly. He’ll never say it out loud, but the way you face your fears — flawed and human — commands a deep respect in him. He doesn’t need perfection. He’s touched by your persistence. By the way you still try.

His love has its own language. He won’t say “I love you” often, but he shows it. He takes longer routes just to walk beside you. He remembers what you hate eating. He listens — to every word — even if he doesn’t always reply. And when you’re in danger, the calm cracks. He doesn’t stay still.

His jealousy is silent and self-inflicted. He won’t forbid you from seeing anyone or lash out. But if someone else makes you laugh, if your eyes light up for reasons that aren’t him, his gaze hardens. He’ll retreat for a few days, quiet and withdrawn, trying to remind himself you’re not his — and that terrifies him.

You make him laugh. Not often, and rarely in public. But there are rare, precious moments where he lets out a dry, genuine laugh. And when he does, he looks away quickly, like he’s just exposed a vulnerability. He doesn’t know how you do it — but you do.

Cleaning is his coping mechanism, but you are his home. When the world gets too loud, he scrubs it away. But when he’s with you — when he hears your voice, feels your hand in his — the urge to run quiets down. For the first time, he begins to understand what it means to stay.

He’ll always worry about you. You can tell him you’re fine, that it’s just a scratch. But his eyes will search your body for the truth. He can’t help it. To love, for Levi, is to carry the weight of your safety like a blade drawn at all times.

Intimacy isn’t just physical — it’s surrender. When he lets you in, it’s not about lust. It’s about vulnerability. He kisses you like he doesn’t deserve it. He touches you with reverence, like every brush of skin is a silent prayer to something he doesn’t believe in — but hopes, just this once, might answer.

Sometimes, he pulls away without explanation. Not because he’s stopped loving you, but because he needs to remember who he was before you, to not lose himself completely. But even in his silence, he thinks of you — your voice, your touch, your presence. He always comes back… even if he doesn’t always know how to say sorry.

He sees you as his equal. There’s no pedestal. No illusion. When he fights beside you, he trusts you like any other comrade — but his heart beats faster. Not out of doubt… but because you mean more than the others ever could.

He struggles with words, but tries for you. The first few times he tried to say “I love you,” the words got stuck in his throat. But one night, with his head in your lap, it slipped out — quiet, raw, unguarded. You understood it anyway. Because with Levi, those words are louder than a scream.

Sometimes, he dreams of a life he knows he’ll never have. A tiny house. A quiet garden. You reading while he cooks, badly. It’s not realistic — he knows. But when you’re asleep next to him, safe and warm, he lets himself pretend, just for a moment, that peace is possible.

If he dies, you’re the last thing he wants to see. Not his squad. Not the past. Just you. Because in the blood and the loss, you were the one beautiful thing he ever truly had. And somehow, against all odds, Levi Ackerman loved. And was loved.

[fluff-n-cookies]

Dabi made a deal with himself the second time he held you in his arms.

-----

Pt2 to this post.

Warnings: angst to comfort, Dabi yells at his daughter, apologizes soon after, Canon typical violence and crime, spoilers, Dabi is a warning of his own. foul language, please inform me if you find more

reader has blue eyes like Dabi's (she's a toddler, 3-4 years old)

Dabi calls reader bunny, Dabi is addressed as "Daddy"

Note: part 3 some time near the end of this month (hopefully)

taglist: @blurryperrtymoonlight @harkenizalone @lostiolite @rllytriedrn @mellyxqz @cupkiki @xxnessinessiellexx @dehlieee

-----

He made a point to remember it as best he could, to practically live by it in that exact moment.

it was midnight when he made such an oath, it was under the careful eye of the bustling city lights that peeked from a window that he promised himself, with you in his arms for the second time, ever.

well, not exactly the second time, he had been carrying you around town all day, either that or having you sit nearby as he ran to steal diapers and formula and what not. He knew he probably shouldn't be leaving a newborn child alone for too long, especially in an abandoned building such as the one he was stationed in right now. but taking you with him was arguably more dangerous, hence why he would consistently bolt to the nearest store and return, out of breath and sweaty. but it's what one has to do.

so after a long, long, long day of running around with a hangover and a crying baby. it was here as he was leaning against a wall, one with cracks in its paint. that he held you. truly held you. tracing burnt fingers along fragile soft skin and occasionally heating the swaddle up with his fire to keep you warm.

he even lit a tiny, tiny little flame, one as small as you, in the palm of his hand to get a good look at you. it being the only thing illuminating the darkness of the room.

"god, you are ugly."

was his first thought, but he seemed quite fond of you nonetheless. but minds like Touya's tend to wander.

you squirmed a little in his grip, occasionally babbling in his lap. that didn't matter much though as Dabi stared into the darkness of night. little thoughts bounced around in his skull.

you'll be a terrible father

they got louder

just like endeavor

even louder

this place is horrible for a child, she probably'll die from infection

please shut up.

you're failing already

thoughts now buzzed in his mind like wasps, stuffy and pounding, mangled and messy. so many thoughts, yet so little time.

you should leave her with an orphanage. at least someone will care for her there.

she has dad's eyes.

she'll end up hating you.

maybe Natsu or Fuyumi will take her-

NO.

his hands shook as he traced his finger over your cheek and fiddled around with the tiny wisps of your hair.

NO ONE'S GOING TO TAKE HER.

his breath picked up, once okay-ish breaths became jagged. no steady inhale or exhale, only sharp puffs in and out. IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN--

I'll take care of her.

I'll be better than dad.

his breathing slowed. and you woke up. grumpy and sleepy. he smiled, he rocked you to sleep that night.

at least, that's the story of how his fate was sealed to be a father. a father with no money, no job, no house, no family. only an extensive criminal record and an infant daughter. and he thought he could make it work.

he ended up staying at a homeless shelter for a few days, living off on that, until he managed to steal make enough money until he was able to afford a motel were he stayed like that for a good year or so. moving from motel to motel until he made himself a reputation in the area. he learned how to be a father like that, taking care of you with only the help of mommy blogs and YouTube videos and all those nights where he'd start off by searching how to make baby formula better, but then 4 hours later he'd catch himself watching videos on how to help your child through their first period and crying about how his baby's going to grow up so soon. he ended up getting a condo not long after, only so you could finally have more stability in your life.

and he thought he could make it work.

he could not.

which is also how he came to regret this awful, awful, day. this horrendous, day. this day. this wretched day.

this day when he broke his promise

he wanted nothing more in that moment than to squeeze you tight to his chest and kiss your little face until you felt all better and forget this ever happened. to say sorry a million times over and dry your tears and hear your sweet laughter as he tells you crappy dad jokes just to see you smile. to forgive him, to know that he didn't mean to hurt you, it was an accident, it was just an accident, and he's sorry.

please. please just open the door. please. let him in.

open that goddamn door that he helped you paint a few months after you two moved in. that door that he painted white and let you finger paint all you wanted, you painted little flowers and bees and simply just smeared all the color you could find on it. it's your hand prints, side by side with some of his, it's that colorful mess that reminds him of you.

he grips the little plate of fruit in his hands harder. the slices of oranges and bananas formed into a smiley face quake in his hold. his breath, shaky as he hears the soft sound of your cries through the door, most certainly stuffing your face into your pillows to bawl your eyes out.

oh how did this happen? how did it come to this point? yes it was a hard week. a very hard week. having been scouted to join the league only recently and already preparing for their first attack on UA. he'd been at meetings all day to discuss their strategy and game plan, it seemed to carry on for years if not decades, yet, it had only been an hour. Shigaraki was just so annoying, yapping on about his hatred for heroes. please sir, shut the fuck up, no body cares, continue with your Canva slide show now how we are going to kidnap that one student from the sports festival.

that little brat Toga wasn't much better, creepy at that. Twice was just as annoying, constantly switching. spinner was bearable. but in no way is that what stain would have wanted to represent him. no. this is not right.

it didn't help much either that his skin was so fucking sensitive, having been brunt over and over again from quirk over usage, the burns growing darker and larger with every time he used his quirk. even his own clothes hurt him at that point, the horribly made jacket that he found in a dumpster worked away at his skin, tearing off each cell with it's thread. not to mention. Endeavor was climbing high, so high, he recently broke his own record of the number of civilians saved in a week and the public was going wild for it. practically every other news channel was covering it.

he clenched his jaw, bright turquoise eyes stared into the screen that flashed with endeavors flames, the bright orange being the only thing to illuminate the barren living room. one leg shook uncontrollably.

and you. you just wanted to help your dear old dad with dinner.

you didn't mean to drop that plate! it's true! all you wanted was to help your dad load up the dishwasher. after all, he's been complaining all day about how awful work has been, and when he wasn't complaining, he was silently grumbling at the news channels on the TV! he didn't even want to play Dolls with you today or ask you if you need help with your homework! it was weird, dad was never like this, no he was silly and sometimes rude, but he talked to you. why?

but with the loud crash of the plate and sound of a million little shards of glass scattering across the room came the yelling.

why was dad yelling at you? dad didn't yell.

he just keep shouting and yelling, calling you names. all his words were now jumbled, and loud, so loud, like those songs he listens to on the radio. the ones with the loud drums and music and words that you can understand. he called it "metal" music. what happened to your dad?! why was he being so mean? he called you a brat, he called you useless, he called you worthless. words that you didn't even understand but understood that he didn't say them with any love at all.

why, why why why why why why why why why why why why why----

everything was too much, you couldn't even focus on what he was saying. he was flailing his arms around making gestures and what not. little blue flames crawled from his hands and onto his shoulders. he- he was angry. very angry.

but wasn't the angry that he'd be when you get lost at the park only to show up 5 minutes later, not the angry when he'd find you accidentally spilled all the glitter into the carpet, it surely wasn't the angry he'd be when you accidentally hurt yourself while trying to do something stupid that he told you a million times over not to.

no! no! no! this was the angry that he'd be when that man would come on screen in the middle of a show.

you've broken plates before, plates, bowls, glasses, windows, beds, his ear drums, all at least once. and every time, he didn't get that angry. he'd just sigh like he was disappointed, before checking you for injuries and patching you up with eh unicorn stickers you picked out. he never yelled, only lectured. why as he yelling now!

nothing made sense anymore, the thoughts in your head jumbled and messy and blurry and weird and murky and sad and mean and everything thoughts should not be. why was he angry at you?

everything was suddenly so blurry as the tears welled up in your eyes, one single droplet made it's way down your cheek and crashed into the ground along with the shattered glass of the plate. it stung, the saltiness of those tears stung, everything hurt, please just. make it stop. make it stop.

I suppose it was the tears that finally brought Dabi out of that haze of anger.

this face dropped. what had he done? to his daughter. he swore he'd never...

everything was quiet all of a sudden, apart from the soft sniffles and the creaking of floor tiles as Dabi tried to move closer to you. an expressionless look on his face and eyes that held all the sorrow in the world as he silently watched you cry. Dabi, no, Touya, had yelled at his daughter, and then mad her cry.

why? why is it that of a sudden, everything was normal again, it was quiet like it was normal, and he was acting like everything was normal? it was normal, and it wasn't okay. oh wow can anything be okay after that t he was so mean it's not okay it will never be okay he isn't sorry he's mean. he's a bully! he hates you and he's mean and and and and and and and and... Dad said he loved you. did he lie?

it's getting hard to think, it's hard to speak now for no reason. what is happening! you should run, you should run and scream and cry and I don't know anymore!

so... so you ran, to your room, and you're there. little tiny cuts littered the soles of your feet, from the glass of the plate.

and he's out here. on the other side of your room. holding that damn plate of fruit, the ceramic heating up in his fiery hold.

this was so stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. he was just tired, but rather than being... y'know... a good father. he could hear Endeavor's voice in his own. he could feel the sting of blood seeping from the brunt flap of his tear ducts.

he brought up this hand, practically quivering, the staples practically coming undone from how hard he gripped his arms after you left. the dead cells flaking off beneath his finger nails.

knock knock

please open the door before he kills himself.

a tiny fragile little voice erupts

"no! go away! i- hic don't wanna talk to you..."

oh God it's over, it's over he can't. he really can't. he said he'd protect you, bunny, please just... he wanted to be a good dad.

"I... (Y/n). I'm so s-sorry."

why is it that the sniffles and soft whimpers stop now.

"baby, please, I'm sorry, daddy's sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. can- can we talk?"

silence, then the soft sound of pitter patter on the floorboards make their way closer, and closer. the little jingle of the door handle as you pull at it to get it open.

he's the one that's meant to be helping you open that damn door, you're too short to do it on your own! you, you need him, you need him to help you an you save you and you...

more importantly I guess...

the door creaks open, just a little, he's able to catch a glimpse of your locks of hair, messy, unlike this morning when he did it before you went off to school. have you been pulling at your own hair?

he makes his way through, he tiptoes between the trenches that is your bedroom. pinkish in all the most annoying ways. but, you are seemingly the most annoying of all! a brat, but you're his brat. and you're crying. right there. under your extra fluffy blankets.

the bed creaks softly as he sits down. he doesn't dare look you in the eyes. the plate of fruit securely in his hold.

"(Y/n)."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled,

I was angry, not at you, never you,

but you were there.

and I'm sorry."

silence.

"I cleaned up the plate, are you hurt?

well, there's bandages, if you do I'll get some disinfectant."

silence

"um, I cut you up some fruits too,

I know how much you like watermelon."

silence

"I'll leave you alone now."

a peep.

"dad?" the blankets shuffle.

"y-yeah, bunny?"

"sorry for dropping the plate. and breaking it." he can see your face now, reddish and teary, your eyes look bloodshot! Jesus, how hard where you crying-

"Oh, it's okay, it's only a plate..."

"do you..."

"do I what, bun?"

"do you not love me anymore?"

he will always love you, more than the moon and the sun and the stars and the sea and green grass of spring and the warmth of summer nights and the sting of alcohol down your throat more than the righteous angels love themselves.

"oh, oh bunny,

I will always, always, love you."

he leaned over scooping you up into his arms, placing your tiny little toddler body into his lap.

"don't forget that, don't you ever forget that, daddy loves you, I will always love you no matter what."

his thumb brushed away all those pesky wisps of hair that float in front of your face, sticking to wet cheeks.

and he smiled, a crooked, but loving smile, a smile.

and you smiled back. even through your pain you smiled. oh. oh Thank God! you forgave him. he'd probably carve out his heart in a fit of insanity if you didn't.

"I love you too, daddy."

-----

I lost my mind halfway through this fic. god it sounds so cringe ugghghghfdhgdgdkjgdjhg[ihga[ieshgtpwiuefhwugot4bvaw6eygsdddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddjfsfhsfshjsj oh well, block me if you don't like it I guess

my stuff is right here: Bnha master list, rules for requesting, ask box

send me an ask, I fucking love hearing from you guys.

[hwaslayer]

the space between us three (jyh) | ten.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, smut

⇢word count: 4.6k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, hwa just hella unsure and causing problems lol, typical yunho x oc being cute af, making out, a lil bit of some dry humping, flashback scene of yunho taking seora to see her mom, crying, yunho opens up to seora about his relationship and it goes south

⇢a/n: the hongjoong fic is starting! you can find it here in case you missed it <33

"Hey." You pop into Noeul's cubicle, welcoming yourself into the free chair. "How's it going?" You're taking a break after the emails briefly stopped flooding in, checking in with your bestfriend. She seems better, but you know where her mind is still at.

"Hey cutie." She looks at you. "It's been alright. Dealing with some more internal issues, but nothing too bad." She chuckles. "Finally got a minute to breathe?"

"Mhm."

"Seeing your man later?"

"Mhm." You respond in a sing-song tone. "Can't wait. Miss him." 

"Cuties. Love you two."

"Have you talked to Seonghwa?" You ask, just to give her time to vent if needed.

"Nope."

"He didn't text you back?"

"Um, no. No he hasn't." She gives you a tiny, forced smile and it breaks your heart. "He's been ignoring me, actually. I saw him this morning on the way to the office, and I thought it was my window to talk to him."

"But? Did you guys make contact?"

"Yeah, but he literally popped out his phone and made a beeline for the entrance." She scoffs. "Yoori's also been majorly giving me the eye."

"Well."

⇢FLASHBACK

noeul: hey, can we talk?

hwa: sorry, not a good time. swamped today.

noeul: okay, so can't we talk after work?

hwa: can't.

noeul: seonghwa, really?

"Sorry." Seonghwa says as he slips into Yoori's office, her face unamused when he finds him tucking his phone into his pocket. "I just got caught up with something."

"Noeul, you mean?" She looks at his pocket and he lets out a heavy sigh.

"No. I was editing an article I need to get out before the end of the week."

"Right." Yoori looks at him over her computer. Seonghwa can tell she's still not happy. And although he doesn't blame her, he is getting tired of the attitude. Of her temper and being short with him. Of keeping within the same routine. He tried to make it up to her. Tried to make this different.

But in the end, it didn't feel so different and he doesn't want to continue if it'll keep heading down this route.

He does think about the fun he had with Noeul. He thinks about having more fun with her. He thinks about how maybe, Noeul would be different. A different kind of fun for him.

"I didn't come here to fight." Seonghwa sighs. "I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight."

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"I don't really wanna be out tonight, especially after the day I've already had."

"I'm sorry, but what does that have to do with me taking you out to dinner? I'll pick you up and drop you off. Or, you can stay at mine if you want."

"Seriously Hwa. Not tonight. Can we raincheck?" He sighs again and nods defeatedly.

"Yeah sure."

"Is there anything else?" She asks him and he just shakes his head. Feeling like he wasted his time to see her. He was excited to see her and ask her out tonight.

But, that went down the drain.

And now, as he's heading back to his office, he's staring at the thread between him and Noeul. Wondering if he should text her and finally talk to her. He's starting to think that Noeul wasn't just that shiny new toy to him and that his heart hasn't truly belonged to Yoori all this time.

Maybe, he needs to break free if all they do is go in circles.

Circles he feels obligated to follow because Yoori is all he's known these past months.

⇢END

"I'm sorry." You brush her hair away from her face.

"Maybe I am just stupid."

"You're not. He's just.. not the right guy, and that's totally fine." You look at her, slightly frowning. "You'll find someone who is worthy of your love and will shower you with the love you deserve."

"I know, but why can't I let go of it? We literally made out at your birthday and that was it."

"Well, you had fun with him. You were with him for the majority of the night. He's attractive too, I can't lie." You shrug. "But, he also needs to really get his shit together, especially with the whole Yoori thing. You don't wanna be another part of that equation, and you don't deserve to." She sighs.

"I just gotta let it go. You're right. It makes no sense for me to hold onto this. He's with Yoori and there's no changing that."

"Quite frankly, I don't even know if Yoori has him." She looks at you, forehead crinkled. "Okay, sorry. Point is, he needs to get himself together and you deserve someone who is sure of you. They'll come along, no doubt."

"I hope so."

"My sweet Noeul." You throw your arm around her. "Come over sometime this week or weekend? We can have a girl's night. I'll tell Sian, too."

"I could use another shopping date. I need a new, cute but functional, everyday bag."

"Are we thinking luxury bag?"

"Maybe."

"Treat yourself! Let's do it." Noeul smiles. "There she is."

"Love you."

"Love you, too." Your phone dings, signaling a text from Yunho and another coworker about a project-related. order "Let me get back to work. I've gotta check on this order I placed for the team. They needed specific electrodes for this study and they said they'd have it by a specific time this week. Gotta make sure it's on track."

"Goodluck."

"Thank you. Text me if you need anything? Or come bother me if you have time." She nods.

With that, you text your coworker back as you head to the procurement facility to check on the status of their order. It's an elevator ride down to the basement, and luckily, there isn't a huge line or a lot of people crowding the area to pick up orders. You find your contact to get an update, relieved it should be delivered tomorrow and can be picked up before lunch time. You relay the info to your coworker as you head back upstairs to your desk, the emails and task items slowly building post-break.

yunho: can't wait to see you later pretty girl

you: excited 🥰 what's lunch?

yunho: surprise!

you: boooooo

yunho: don't give me that, cutie. it'll be worth it! 

yunho: gtg, gotta look into one of the systems slowing down

yunho: 😘

You set the phone down to get back to work, only to come back to it with another text from Yunho.

yunho: damn kiss me back at least??????

you: can you go?! 😂

you: 😘

You giggle to yourself, finishing up the other tasks that have made its way to you before lunch time comes around the corner. You get the usual text from Yunho letting you know he was heading to your meeting spot, so you grab your water bottle and head out. It's a bit chilly outside, causing you to wrap your jacket around you tightly— easily finding Yunho's tall figure ahead.

"Hi." You giggle when Yunho pulls you in for a tight hug and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"Missed you, pretty girl." He raises a cute bag up. "Made some kimbap with Seora last night."

"I missed you, too." Your eyes glow at the bag. "That's so sweet. Can't wait to eat 'em for lunch, I'm sure it's delicious." You smile, tiptoeing to give him a curt peck on the lips. You feel Yunho smile against the kiss, subtly biting his lip when you pull back.

"Can we get to the car? Now?"

"Yunho." You laugh, squealing when Yunho laces his hand with yours—rushing over to his car in the staff garage and dragging you along. He has long strides, so you're having to keep up 10x more than normal. "Yunho! You're a giant, I can't keep up!" He laughs when he decides to carry you and gets you into his car— immediately sliding into the driver's seat and reversing out of the spot. "Why are you rushing?!"

"Because we're on a time crunch and I just need my time with you. What do you mean why?" You snort. 

"Uh huh."

"I also just want you on my lap, is that so much to ask?" You let out a cute yell, making Yunho laugh even louder. He makes his way to the usual trail and lake, parking underneath the shade since the sun is out despite the chill. He pops open the large container, showing you the different kinds of kimbap they made. He hands you some chopsticks, allowing you to dig in first and give an honest review.

"Yum! This is so good, Yu." 

"Yeah? You aren't lying?" He looks at you, maintaining eye contact until you break first.

"Swear." You chuckle.

"Your mom and dad said it was good, too. I'll give credit to Seora for the idea and for planning out what kimbap we'd make."

"The girl's got taste!" You pop in another one, looking out at the lake ahead. There's a few people walking the trail, elderly couples holding onto each other as they take their time with their stroll or runners getting a workout in before it gets too late in the afternoon. Ducks are taking a dip in the lake, squirrels running up the trees. 

It's a nice reminder of life's little blessings.

"Hey." You turn in the passenger's seat, tucking your leg underneath the other to sit comfortably.

"Yeah, baby?"

"How was it? Did you take Seora to the cemetery?"

"Yeah." He smiles. "It was good. She was really happy."

"Did she get to decorate?"

"Lots."

⇢FLASHBACK

"What's that?" Yunho asks as he drives over to the cemetery, briefly glancing at Seora's lap when he gets a chance.

"You know how I got into crochet kits lately?"

"Yes, I'm reminded by the monthly subscription that goes through on my card." Seora laughs. "You're making good use of it."

"Yeah. I made one from the Hello Kitty line I got in. I made the Little Twinstars." Seora raises the two. "They're holding hands. I know they're siblings but I wanted it to be like.. me and mom."

"That's cute." Yunho smiles a bit.

"I also made this sushi and named it Oishi. It has a little slice of tamago on the top." Yunho laughs.

"You're just like your mom. Inspiring and creative." Seora smiles.

"Then, I made a drawing of our picture."

"It's beautiful."

"And a threaded bracelet."

"Wow, you really got to work." Seora shows her wrist and holds it near her father's by the wheel. 

"She can match us now."

"That's right." Yunho pulls into the cemetery and drives toward the columbarium. He parks near the front doors, letting out a sigh when he shuts off the car. "Ready to go, ace?"

"I am." She nods with a soft smile. Yunho quickly hops out to help Seora out of the passenger seat, shutting her door for her when she climbs out with all her things. Yunho walks alongside of her as they enter the quiet, still building. Seora holds onto her father's arm as they walk down the hall, Yunho leading her through the familiar path towards Eunha.

"Here." He brings her in front of her niche, looking down to see her reaction. She slowly steps forward, her hand touching the glass.

"Mom." She says quietly.

"Go ahead." Yunho hands her the key to unlock the little glass door. She takes it, slowly sliding the key into the lock before twisting it open. 

"Brought you some stuff that I made." She says quietly. Yunho watches with a smile on his face as Seora continues to explain to her mom what each item is and why she brought it. Once the decorations are settled to her liking inside, she lets out a sigh and drops her head. He hears her sniffling, her hand coming up to wipe her tears away.

"Ace?" He comes from behind, hands on her shoulders.

"I just miss her." Is all she says before she turns to dig her head into her father's chest. 

"Oh, ace." Yunho holds her close, gently rubbing her back as she continues to quietly cry— tears a sign of all the pain and sadness she harbored over the years. "I'm so sorry, babygirl." He whispers against the top of her head before placing a small kiss to the surface.

The days and nights of longing for a mother's love, a mother's touch. 

Yearning and needing.

All coming to surface.

"Can we sit here for a bit and talk about mom?"

"Of course."

"I remember some things."

"You do?" Seora nods. She remembers a few core memories from when she was small; they're all bits and pieces, fragments of the past when she wished she had all the puzzle pieces together to see the bigger picture. But, she remembers. She remembers pieces of her mom and that's what matters to her, that's what she'll hold onto tightly.

She remembers when she finally stopped whining and crying during swim class— finding the courage to join the other toddlers in the water to learn how to float and get used to the feeling. She remembers her mom encouraging her with her sweet tone, telling her she believed in her. She remembers the kiss to her forehead, feeling it against her skin like it was just yesterday.

And Yunho listens.

He chimes in with a few other stories from when she was a baby, the two of them giggling and in good spirits while sitting around Eunha. The hour goes by so quickly, it feels like 5 minutes to the two.

⇢END

"That's so sweet."

"Yeah, we spent about a good hour there. Gonna make it our weekend thing besides our little dates and her games."

"Cute." You smile. "You should." The both of you are sipping water, popping in some gum post-meal. "I'm glad you two had that time together and will keep it a part of your schedule."

"Yeah." Yunho leans his head back against the headrest, eyeing you up and down as much as he possibly can from his seat. "Come here, baby." He says lowly, subtly licking his lips.

"Hm?" You hum, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

"C'mere." He gives you a look, adjusting his seat back to make room for you.

"Babe, people might see us!" You say, even though you're already preparing to take your seat on your man's lap. 

"And I do not give a fuck." He laughs. "They can have a free show." He watches as you climb over, straddling his lap. "Besides, you're already here. Did you really have strong opinions about it in the first place?" He looks up at you as you trace his jaw with your thumb. He takes your hand in his, kissing your fingers, your knuckles.

"Maybe, maybe not." 

"Mm, tease, aren't you?" He smirks, lips edging towards yours. He licks his lips, hands gripping at your hips to keep you close. "Hm, pretty girl?" He whispers just as his lips graze yours, followed by a light, feathery kiss. You finally dip forward to lock him into a kiss.

It's soft at first. Sweet. 

Yunho's lips against yours feel perfect. Like it was molded to fit yours, to console you, to keep you safe;

Like it was made to love you.

Your hands fall to his cheeks, thumb pads grazing the surface, his jaw. The kiss deepens quick, tongues moving together in a slow dance. Yunho grip on your hips tightens, egging you to move on him. 

And you do just that.

Slowly, eagerly. With intent, meaning.

"Yunho." You breathe out, trapping him into another kiss just as he bites onto your bottom lip and tugs it back. 

"Yeah, baby?" He whispers, hand coming up behind your neck; fingers threading through your hair to keep you close. 

"Wish we could be home right now."

"Say the word and I'll take you home." You giggle against his lips, pecking him once more.

"You've gotta pick up Seora later."

"I can stop by yours before I do." He leans forward to continue kissing you like there's no tomorrow. "I plan to tell Seora tonight, by the way." You pause, hands still cupping his cheeks.

"A-are you sure, love?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He rubs at the sides of your thighs, but you sit back— titling your head as you look at him.

"Maybe we should wait a bit more? You just took her to the cemetery to see her mom, Yu. She might need time."

"She'll be okay. I just.. I wanna tell her sooner than later. Or else, I'll feel like it's never the right time and that's unfair to you."

"Well, she's the one who matters the most."

"I promise she'll be fine. You trust me, right?"

"I do. It's not that. I'm just not sure how she'll react." It's true, you don't know how she'll react and that's what you're afraid of. You're afraid she'll take it the wrong way, you're afraid she'll never look past it. You're afraid she'll never accept this.

And if she doesn't, then it'll be something you'll have to accept.

Seora will always come first and you will never do anything to challenge that. To break her beautiful relationship with her father, to ruin her comfort zone.

"Either way, it's going to be an adjustment, but we'll make this work."

"Together?"

"Always." His eyes fall to your lips before he dips in for another sweet, long kiss. You giggle after awhile, breaking the kiss to look at your phone.

"Fuck. Maybe we should head back." You flash your phone at him, seeing there's only about 10 minutes left of break." Yunho sighs, groaning a bit.

"Fine."

"Grump." You joke as you climb back into the passenger's seat.

"No seriously, can I pop in before I pick up Seora?"

"Yunho." You pinch his arm. "And be late to pick her up? Absolutely not."

"Ah— okay." He pouts as he starts up the car and begins to head back toward the hospital. "Are you working from home any day this week?"

"Maybe." You laugh, and he wiggles his eyebrows. You swear Yunho is such a dork, but you fall for him more and more every day. 

"There's my invite." 

"You're too much." He slides his free hand into yours, kissing the surface.

"Just love my time with you, that's all." He smiles softly. Yunho looks at you, and he just feels love. He feels lucky to have found someone again who understands him, takes him for him and is willing to love him and all that he comes with. 

He doesn't want to lose that.

Even though he knows it'll be tough, he doesn't want to lose that.

The ride back to work is quiet besides the tiny kisses shared before hopping out to get back to your offices. You've got a few hours left in your workday, and for Yunho, it's a little longer in comparison with all the tickets he's helping the team with. He's also got a check-in meeting to finalize the plans for the new unit before he can wrap up and call it a day.

All in a day's work.

"Hey." He hears a familiar voice as he straps in his backpack and throws his hat on before heading out for the afternoon.

"What's up?" Yunho looks at Seonghwa with a small smile. "You look beat."

"I am." 

"Didn't you see Yoori earlier?" Seonghwa walk alongside of his bestfriend as they head out to the staff garage.

"Yeah. That didn't go all that well."

"Well, how do you expect her to act?" Seonghwa shrugs.

"I don't know, but quite frankly, I'm getting kinda tired of it."

"What?" Yunho snorts. "You wanted the casual, lowkey thing."

"Yeah, but things were kinda changing. Now, we barely even do anything. We don't go out, we don't have fun. Nothing. It's usually a quick outing to eat or else we stay at each other's places."

"Isn't that the point of lowkey and casual?" Yunho looks at him. "What's making you second guess? Noeul and the whole club thing?"

"Maybe?" Yunho shakes his head.

"Figure it out first. Don't get Noeul wrapped up in this even more if you aren't sure."

"I feel bad, I brushed her off earlier."

"Exactly, Hwa. Don't do that. Not only cause she's Y/N's friend, but you don't string someone along because you want a fun backup." Hwa sighs.

"It's not even just that."

"Then?" Yunho unlocks his car and tosses his backpack in the trunk.

"I don't know."

"Figure it out, my guy. Wouldn't hurt to get expedited shipping on that either. Someone's gonna end up real hurt if you aren't honest about what you want and need right now." Hwa sighs. "Can never be simple with you, can it?"

"Anyway. Did you see Y/N earlier?"

"Mhm. Of course." Yunho chuckles.

"Are you still planning to tell ace tonight about you two?"

"I think so, yeah. I kinda just wanna rip the bandaid off."

"Goodluck. I'm sure she'll be fine eventually. But, let me know how it goes."

"Deflecting." Yunho teases making Seonghwa roll his eyes as he starts to back away towards the direction of his car.

"Fuck off, alright? Tell ace I said hi." Yunho chuckles before sliding into his car and heading out to pick up his daughter and his tiny-but-not-so-tiny bestfriend. He parks in the school's lot, walking over to the gym to catch the tail end of practice. He watches as they run their last play of the evening, running a few minutes over time. Coach calls it, yelling out the play until the girls run it all the way through in perfection. Yunho nods, loving these moments when he can see his baby girl in action. He greets a few of other parents before watching Seora drag herself to the locker room to grab her things and head home. "Hey ace." Yunho says when he sees Seora dragging her huge duffle bag along. He laughs and takes it from her, slinging the strap over his shoulder. "How was practice?"

"God, awful. We ran so many of the plays just to get a feel for it for the next playoff game."

"That's good."

"Not good. My legs are beat." She looks up at him as she sips her water bottle. "What's dinner?"

"Was thinking we could just do kimchi-jjigae."

"Mm. Yum!" She says, throwing her backpack in the trunk once it's popped open. "Sounds good right about now."

"Yeah, doesn't it?" When the trek home begins, Seora starts to tell her father about her day and how much of a good day she had. None of her friends were out sick, and they got to watch movies in a couple of her classes. The more he hears her talk about her day, the more he feels the guilt building in the pit of his stomach.

Because he would be the reason that would change.

The reason why her day would ended on such a dramatic, life-changing note.

But, he keeps himself strong— keeps his decision firm because he knows he just has to do it. He looks at her and cherishes her smile and her laugh, hoping he could still see those same bright features once he lays it all out for her. For the future.

He hopes he doesn't lose his baby girl.

When they get home, they greet your parents through the kitchen window and more guilt settled into the pit of his stomach realizing that would be the next step.

You, handling your parents. Hoping they'd support you in this relationship.

Yunho kicks off his shoes and Seora races to the bathroom to shower and get comfy. He decides to get the kimchi-jjigae and rice going before washing up for the night and getting into some pajamas. By the time everything's finished, Seora is already sitting at the table watching her show while Yunho brings over the hot pot of kimchi-jjigae to the center of the table. He grabs their bowls to put some rice inside before setting them down next to the pot They say their grace before digging in, Yunho indulging in the show she has on. She explains the current plot, keeping her father up to date on all the drama that's happened so far. They talk about other shows and upcoming movies in between, Seora basically planning one of their dates as another movie date.

This time, at a different theater. One that has different themes in each theater room, and it switches out almost every month. 

Yunho just agrees, wanting to take Seora anywhere just so she could be happy and they can spend time together outside of the house. When dinner is done, Yunho and Seora clean up the dishes and close out the kitchen, but Seora finds it a good time to dig for some dessert to balance out the savory meal they've had.

Yunho also finds it a good time to just cut to the chase.

Let her know what's been going on.

"Ace."

"Hm?" She digs through the fridge.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"If it's about me being head deep into the fridge to find dessert, I'm sorry dad, but I have no regrets." Yunho chuckles.

"No. Listen to me." She shuts the fridge emptyhanded.

"We need more desserts."

"Noted." Seora senses the shift in his tone. The dip.

"What is it, daddy?"

"I've... been seeing someone for awhile now."

"Like friends? I see my friends all the time?"

"No, dating. As in a relationship."

"Dating? Relationship?"

"Yeah." Yunho swallows the lump in his throat when he sees the smile on her face die and turn into a frown. Here it goes.

"Dating?" She repeats in utter disbelief. "So, what was the weekend all about?"

"What does the weekend have to do with what I'm telling you, baby girl?"

"Mom? Visiting her?" She scoffs. "Do you even remember Mom like that, or are you just replacing her with someone because it doesn't even matter anymore? Replacing her with someone who knows where the freaking juice is in the fridge—"

"Seora." Yunho furrows his brows. "Hey, stop that. You do not say that to me. I never said she was replacing your mom. I could never. I just wanted to tell you when the time felt right—" He falters. She stares back at him— expression unreadable at first, then her eyes flicker. "It isn't about forgetting her at all."

"It's about you. It's all about you!" Her tone raises. "You moved on. You moved on and didn't think I'd notice. You're clearly forgetting about her and moving on. You literally don't even care—"

"Seora, that's enough!" She scoffs again, rolling her eyes as she turns to head towards her room. "I thought you'd respond better than that."

"What do you expect me to say, dad? Congrats?!" She pauses and shakes her head. "Whatever. Have fun playing house with your new girlfriend."

"Seora!" She slams the door to her room, leaving Yunho dumbfounded in the living room. His jaw ticks, and he's not sure how to navigate this. Seora has never been this mad at Yunho and vice versa; sure, he's had to calmly discipline her before and correct mistakes, but they've never had this big of an argument.

Whenever they'd disagree, he knew it could easily be salvaged. They'd talk about it, Yunho would fix things patiently. They'd get back to the way they were. Seora would take her lessons to heart and wouldn't make the same mistake again because she'd never wanna disappoint her father, the most important man in her life. Her bestfriend.

Now, it doesn't feel so easily salvageable. Yunho has never seen her so mad. He's never felt this much anger and disappointment. He's not sure how long it'll take to blow over, or how they'd even move past this.

All he can do is sigh, running his hand through his hair before he mutters a short 'fuck' to himself. He cleans the living room and shuts off the lights for the night, sadly heading to bed when Seora doesn't come out for the rest of the evening. No goodnight's, no 'I love you's,' no hugs. And Yunho knows he shouldn't let them go to bed like this, but he knows she needs time. He needs time. He doesn't wanna make this worse, and he doesn't wanna do anything to hurt her more.

But, he expected this. He should've known. So, why doesn't he feel prepared at all? 

Where does he go from here?

"Hey babe." Yunho feels himself relax a bit as he settles into his sheets, letting out a small sigh. "You okay?"

"I don't know. Definitely did not go as planned." You feel your heart beating against your chest, anxiety slightly rising. Of course it didn't go well. You also expected it, so why don't you feel prepared at all? 

What a silly question to ask, Y/N.

"I'm sorry." You respond softly. "Maybe she really just needed time, Yu."

"I guess. Maybe it is my fault." He says defeatedly. "I don't think any other time would've been the right time, and I think she would've reacted this way regardless." He sighs. "But, part of me really hoped she'd be open to it. I don't know what to say to her, I don't know what to do. We've never been in an argument like this."

"Don't push her any further on this, okay? Let it settle and talk about it with her when things feel better."

"Yeah."

"We'll get through this, remember?"

"Mmyeah." He tries to be positive, but it's already killing him how upset Seora is. The silence on the phone is telling, and the silence is enough to scare you. It only makes you fear telling your mom even more, knowing she won't be supportive of it either.

You've talked about the possibilities, so why don't the both of you feel prepared?

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies @yusalterego @hwa-stars @hyukssunflower @chngbnwf @jaytheatiny @lucid-galaxys-world @chaotic-floral @sofkloster @honeyrecommends @hwashua-luv @luvv4bby @spicxbnny @pandyandy71 @sanniesaurus @angel-hyuckie @wolviejex @purpleyou7x @honeyhotteoks @woovalin @piecessoull @prodsh00ky @seesawsaredangerous

[tendermiasma]

Clover lore 🍀

Someone asked me questions so I get to talk

1. Clover sections his existence by time of day, but he's most aware of the changing of the seasons and the cycles of the moon. It was always a fun thing to point out as a child when the moon was new or full, and when he was alone, surviving the passing of winter was excruciating. Winter was long and he would learn to count the full moons before life began to creep back into the forest. Knowing he only had a few left before the frosts arrived again was also excruciating. Although he's tried, he isn't completely consistent; sometimes other things take priority. He'd only started marking moon cycles as he got a little older, so there were some dark periods. You might be able to guess his age by looking through the journal he keeps with him.

2. Clover doesn't talk much. In a way he does dislike his voice-- making noise has always been risk for him. He's really only spoken with intent when he's spellcasting, which was usually in a kill-or-be-killed or other stressful situation, so he long associated speaking with those feelings. He feels safest when he's quiet.

How well Halsin can read him depends on where they are in their relationship. Halsin's had to learn Clover's behavior and I think he's an emotionally-sensitive person. In the beginning it could be quite hard! Clover's cerebral and often unknown even to himself since it's second-nature for him to immediately push away his own needs and vulnerability. It's disorienting when his brain is still reading those situations as danger and the expected danger just doesn't come. It gets easier as they spend more time together and Halsin becomes more in tune to Clover's wants and quirks, body language, little signs he teaches Clover, etc.

3. Clover is completely nomadic, the only shelter he uses is one he can find in nature like hollow trees, caves, empty dens. It's dangerous to stay in one place and equally dangerous to leave a trail.

[mylanguageclasses]

The Best Time of the Day to Study a Language for Maximum Retention

Learning a new language is an exciting journey, but it can also be challenging. One of the most common questions language learners ask is: When is the best time to study for maximum retention? The answer isn’t one-size-fits-all, but science and expert advice can help you find the perfect time to optimize your learning. In this blog post, we’ll explore the ideal times to study a language, backed…

[marasmadness]

hii could you possibly do a jj x emily x reader smut fic where they are protective over her and maybe someone else flirts with her idk 🫶

What We Deserve || J.J x E.P x reader

a/n: changed it slightly bc I kept getting stuck and scrapped this like three times but hope you guys like it :)

CW: dark!jemily x sunshine reader, guns, violence, Emily and JJ turning to revenge, slightest past Emily angst, stalking and sexual harassment (a man who later becomes irrelevant), threesome, age gap, smut, mild gunplay, strap-on sex, oral sex, face-sitting, daddy kink (one time), light choking, praise (she holds your hand and talks you through it🥰)

“I can stay tonight,” you offered up easily, trying to hide the fact that you were incredibly eager at the possibility of not returning home tonight.

Emily looked up from her desk, baffled by why you would ask to spend the night working, and scrutinized your body language with her eyes. This was something Garcia had warned you about when she recommended you for the job position Emily and JJ were trying to fill. They were excellent profilers, or at least formerly, but their old habits never left them.

After the two women turned to a more avenging and under-the-table profession, they turned to Garcia for her usual tech intel, but as she remained a current government employee, she was unable to give them her usual assistance. Instead, she recommended you, “her protégé,” she claimed.

You had offered up your nights to the older woman four times in the last two weeks, which wouldn’t be unusual for a demanding corporate job, but this wasn’t that. The couple worked from their grand home with three offices to exceed all their work needs. You assisted them on the tech side of things and were an expert at tracking people down. In this case, it was usually whatever unpunished psychopath or scumbag they were currently hunting.

“Why don’t you want to ever go home?” Emily questioned, resting the end of her pen on her lip. Her question was in no way rude, despite her consistently assertive tone. She just wanted to know why anyone would rather spend their nights working at a new job with few people to talk to and staring at a mini computer screen than return to a cozy apartment.

“No, it’s not that. I’m just willing to help out here,” you replied, rubbing your knuckles against the fabric of your pencil skirt.

JJ, who was shuffling through a paper trail you just printed out, profiled you cockily without even looking up. “ Lying? Didn’t think you had it in you sunshine,” the blonde quipped.

The "Sunshine" nickname and “Learn that from Garcia?” Jokes have been nonstop since you started. You weren’t sure how much of your demeanor you actually picked up from spending plenty of time with Penelope or if it just stemmed from the fact that you were generally quieter and gentler than the two women who kept guns tucked underneath their blazers at all times.

Emily flicked JJ’s shoulder as she slid behind JJ’s chair to reach a final cabinet, a subtle way of telling her to cut it out, but she couldn’t help the small smirk that crossed her face. She tipped her head toward you, pointing across the hall. “Go grab your work and bring it back here. Shut the lights off on your way back too.”

You quickly pivoted around, treading to the conference room to grab a folder and your laptop. For two vigilantes, they were incredibly organized. You assumed that’s what made them so good, and their FBI experience probably helped. You returned to work in their office, working through the list of wanted profiles and trails for the two women. At some point, Emily appeared behind you, watching as your fingers flew across the keyboard. You restrained your instinct to flinch as her hands grasped your shoulders.

After two hours, the glare of your laptop screen blurred before your eyes. Entirely zoned out, you jumped slightly when Emily’s hands found your shoulders, her breath rushing across your ear. “Go home, rest; it’s late,” the gravelly sound of her voice sounded from just above your shoulder.

“You’re still here working though,” you protested out, pointing out how her and JJ were still camped out at their desks with no intent of leaving anytime soon.

She raised her eyebrow, catching you off guard when she spun your chair around, pressing her knee into the seat beside your thigh. “That was an order. You’re no help if you come back tomorrow sleep-deprived. JJ and I have been on this schedule for years. We’ll sleep when we retire.”

You listened, gathering up your stuff. Your keys jangled against your side as you stopped to linger in the doorway before making your way out to your car.

The streets were pitch black and mostly empty as you drove to the low thrum of the radio. Your fingers bounced anxiously on the steering wheel while pulling into the parking lot beneath your apartment complex. It was late; nobody would still be out and about, and your trip up to the 3rd floor would be uninterrupted. You reassured yourself. You were right to some extent. The stairwells were empty and a little eerie.

Your hand closed around your doorknob when the reason you were reluctant to return home called out, making you flinch in the dark. “Late night?”

“Mhm,” you replied dismissively while hurriedly fumbling for your keys. You could see his silhouette in his shadow as he stepped out of his apartment and turned down the hall toward yours.

“What kept you out late?”

“Just work.” You didn’t look up, pushing your door open roughly. Slipping inside, you were a second too slow. ”Good night, Ro,” you said sternly, attempting to close the door as he appeared in your doorway. Your heart started thumping in your chest as his palm slapped against the already splintering door.

“Hey, wait up, what’s the rush?” He grinned, holding his weight against the door to keep it open. You froze, only able to keep the door at the crack it was, and no further. Too focused on your sweaty hands gripping the door, you missed the soft clicking pair of footsteps until it was too late.

Two strong hands engulfed your body, one sliding around your waist and pulling you against a warm torso, and the other expertly clamping down on your mouth. Your eyes darted back and forth, catching a whirl of raven hair between you and the door. Without your half of the balancing act, the door slammed up against the wall, leaving Ro and the stranger in your apartment facing off.

“May I help you sweetheart?” A sickly sweet and familiar voice rang out, throwing your stalkerish neighbor for a loop. Emily.

You were dragged backward slightly, out of view, forcefully but not violently. A blond wave of hair fell over your shoulder, and vanilla perfume became mixed in with your heavy breaths. Emily, and JJ.

Ro suddenly stepped back into the hallway. ”Who the hell are you? Wait, you were on the news. You were in the FBI.”

“Catching on so quickly,” Emily taunted while revealing her gun from her side, raising it casually. “Step inside, close the door behind you, scream and you won’t make it back out alive,” she instructed, waving the barrel of the gun as she spoke.

He obeyed, if only out of obvious terror. JJ stepped out of the shadows with you in her grasp. Out of angry instinct, he lurched toward you. “Crazy bitch.”

JJ defensively tightened her bicep around your body, moving you behind her. She and Emily moved as one fluid, deadly unit. Sharp, efficiently placed pressure on Ro’s shoulders from Emily made him drop to the floor like a fly, his knees cracking against the floor. The point of JJ’s boot dug into the flesh of his leg, threateningly close to his crotch.

Emily was back to looming over him, hands steady as she clicked the gun against his temple. ”Here’s how this is going to work. We managed to find video footage of you breaking into this apartment, stalking, and harassing, and that’s just the surface—things that we found in seconds. If, and that’s a questionable if you leave here alive, so will we, because if you turn us in, we turn you in, and with all the cameras disabled in this apartment, who are the courts more likely to believe former FBI agents who left peacefully and with high credibility, or you?” Silence. “That’s what I thought. You’ll also be ending your lease within the next 24 hours, and I highly suggest your next place be at least 25 miles from this apartment. Last but not least, apologize.”

You saw him wince at the pressure from the weapon or Emily’s voice as he looked up at you from the ground.

“ I-, I’m sorry! Ah!” He yelled out as Emily knicked the side of his head.

“Do fucking better, and I’m not one to dish out third chances, so make it good.”

You nearly blacked out at the scene unfolding in front of you. His apology played like a distant voiceover in your head; JJ’s hands felt hot against your skin; and you didn’t even start to leave this dazed state until Emily was forcefully leading your now-former neighbor out of your apartment.

Emily guided you toward the back of your apartment while JJ locked it up, not before surveying the hallway twice.

Flicking on a dim light, Emily braced herself against the doorframe as you turned around to face her. “So, “I can totally work late,” was actually Mr. insecure fucking stalker?” She prodded, adding a slight imitation of your voice into her tone.

“He wasn’t a stalker; he was just gross and pushy. He asked me out when he first moved in; I said no, and he never really let it go,” you explained in an attempt to descalate.

Emily scoffed, removing her blazer as she invited herself to sit down on your bed with her hands pressed into her thighs. “Honey, he intercepted you every time you came home, couldn’t take no for an answer, and knew your schedule by heart. Why didn’t you just tell JJ or me? We could’ve handled it.”

You circled around the room, still attempting to process what had happened. “Okay, and by handled, do you mean go fucking insane?” You asked in a raised whisper, tangling your almost-twitching fingers in your hair. “You cannot just pull a gun out from underneath your blazer and hold it to someone’s head while your wife threatens them with credentials she no longer even has!”

Emily stood up quickly, untucking her blouse from her pants with her sharp movements. “And he can’t just monitor your life and push his way into your apartment!” She shot back with fire in her tone. You seemed to have hit a nerve. Your best guess was that wherever this anger was coming from, it also had to do with whatever reason she left the BAU for, something she had yet to reveal to you. “He had no right, and you’re not responsible for his actions. Look at me,” she commanded, tipping your chin toward her gaze with two fingers. “Even if you said yes, he would still behave as he always has, as a creeping coward. I spent my whole career chasing carbon copies of men like him. Nothing will change their sense of entitlement from believing they deserve women who they could never appreciate or understand.” Finishing, her chest rose up and down with emotion as you remained still in her grip.

“Is that why you quit?” You asked, slightly steering the conversation back toward her. “Because of people getting what they didn’t understand or deserve?”

“Yes, I was tired of having to put people I cared about or wanted to care about,” she added, refocusing on you, “in danger and not being able to be the one who served repercussions.”

Feelings you had pushed down since day 1 rose up in your throat. “And have you ever contemplated what you deserve?” you asked as a more relaxed smile curled on her lips.

She nodded as her eyes flickered down your skin. Her forehead glistened with unexpired anger and effort as she swiped a piece of damp hair from it.

“And what’s that?” you asked. Moving your hands backwards, they landed on the dresser, feeling as if the space between you and Emily was growing closer and closer, more intoxicatingly suffocating.

“You.” JJ’s smooth and confident voice filled in the blank for Emily, and you felt your entire body flush with warmth. She had been walking by the door with silent steps and filled in the rest with context. While her calm and mildly seductive reaction to the scene surprised you, it only made Emily grin, curling her fingers to invite the blonde into the room as she shut the door behind her. Emily had seen the way her wife’s gaze soaked in your body the first day you stepped in the door with a bright smile, making her hungrily sink her teeth into her lip. Emily admittedly had quite a similar reaction.

Distracted by JJ’s appearance, you hadn’t noticed Emily’s shift until you felt her body press up behind you and her lips dance across your neck. Removing her gun from her side, you expected her to put it on the nightstand beside you, so you were taken aback when she pressed the edge up against your ribs, leaving you to feel the cool metal through the thin material of your shirt. All the air left your lungs as she slowly dragged it up your skin, her deep red-painted nails leaving a trail of scratches in their wake. The barrel of the gun followed the curve of your chin until she used to tip to guide your gaze up to hers. Trust me, at least for tonight.” She placed the gun on your nightstand with dangerous amusement flashing across her eyes.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled you between her legs, unbuttoning your shirt with nimble fingers until it slipped off your shoulders. Slipping her hands beneath the hem of your skirt, her fingers grazed against the skin of your lower belly, the cold metal of her rings making you tense.

She slowly and seductively removed the rest of your clothes, taking her sweet time to soak in every inch of your body. You followed her lead as she charmingly held out her hand to help you climb up and kneel on the mattress. She followed, settling at the top of the bed. “Come up here; let me taste you.” She rapped your thighs until you were straddled over her body. Her suave confidence and eagerness to aid in your pleasure were new to you and created a confusing knot of feelings in your stomach. Your knuckles turned white with your grip on the headboard, holding yourself up delicately.

Emily wet her lips, curving them into a smile. “Sit means actually sit, love.” Her hands gripped the back of your legs, dragging your throbbing cunt onto her mouth. A satisfied groan left her lips, vibrating through you.

Behind you, JJ’s nonchalance surprised you. In every other environment, she was incredibly overprotective. In this case, both the people she was ever overprotective of were right in front of her, so she was happy to pour a drink, sit back and watch… or at least for a moment.

Through your muffled thoughts brought on by Emily’s lips wrapping around your clit and her hands kneading at the flesh of your thighs, you heard JJ’s glass clink on the table before her hands appeared on your body. You felt the mattress sink beneath you as she climbed up on the bed behind you, cupping your breasts in her hands as her lips trailed along your neck. “If I’m gonna let you fuck my wife, I think it’s only appropriate that I get something as well, don’t you, doll?” She murmured, her breath leaving a trail of warmth along your skin, until she found your mouth, sinking her teeth into your bottom lip. A soft whine escaped as she pulled away, taking her touch with her, and sat down next to you.

Your knuckles grew white against the headboard as Emily’s tongue curled against the walls of your tongue, drawing you closer and closer to a shattering orgasm. JJ, next to you was only contributing to your arousal as she undressed herself and raked her long, blond hair out of her face with a ravenous look. Your body tensed on quivering thighs resting on either side of Emily’s head as she pulled your cunt down in her mouth, flattening her tongue against your sensitive nerve. A stew of moans and expletives fell from your lips as you coated her tongue, and she looked up with a slick, lopped grin as if she had just won a trophy.

Without more than half a breath, she was up and directing you between JJ’s legs, driven by lust-induced vigor. “Eat her out,” she commanded with a soft air of confidence.

Focused on pleasuring JJ, you only caught a blur of Emily in your peripheral vision, slipping out of black work pants and letting her belt hit the ground. Arched between JJ’s legs, she secured her feet over your shoulders, trapping your head between toned thighs as you delved into her cunt. The blonde’s head sank back with a guttural moan as you circled and sucked at her clit.

You stuttered as Emily caught you off guard, dragging her fingers down your spine until she squeezed your ass. JJ’s hands found their way into your hair, guiding your back down between her legs with a sickly soft tone, but you didn’t miss the smirk shot at Emily over her head. “Focus baby, okay? Don’t worry about her.”

You listened, far into the hazy trance of the women surrounding you. As your tongue roamed JJ’s pussy you could feel Emily’s grasp on your hips, positioning them to her likely, and then what came as a startle from your lack of awareness was the silicon texture of her thick strap gently teasing your entrance as you brought her wife closer and closer to an orgasm.

She pistoned the faux-cock inside of you, and you choked out a gasp that made JJ’s hips stutter as she arched her back off the mattress. “Fuck, almost there, doll, let me come on your tongue.” Her words slowly morphed into pants as she reached her climax, with a heaving chest and a tight grip on your hair. Her legs relaxed on your shoulder as Emily continued thrusting into you, the slight ridges of her strap against your walls leaving you gripping at JJ with desperation. JJ found your hands. Running her thumbs across your knuckles with soft praise. “Come for daddy, baby,” she mumbled into her forward before leaning up into Emily’s brief breathless kiss. Your three sheening bodies were intertwined in various ways. The room was filled with obscene noises and sounds from the lingering exhaustion of pleasure.

With close attention, JJ caught on when you were close, using two fingers to drag your chin upwards, forcing you to look her in the eye as your juices coated Emily’s cock. As you came, Emily’s hand wrapped lightly around your throat, adding an extra starry haze to your orgasm. You collapsed in a euphoric state on JJ’s lap. She chuckled at your fucked-out state, running her hands through your hair. Emily wore a similar smile of satisfaction as she left a trail of light kisses down the back of your legs. She was the one to get up and go to the bathroom, preparing to help the three of you clean up and collapse back onto your queen-sized bed in a dreamlike sleep.

[csuitebitches]

Things I Have to do for My Sanity

1. Wake up at the first alarm - no snoozing and no going lying around in bed. Getting up straight away and head to the bathroom. It’s going to suck initially but you’ll get used to it in a few days.

2. Mental self care: 30 minute meditation, brain games mental math, reading, news. Knowledge is sexy and don’t deny yourself sexiness.

3. Daily review in my diary at the beginning and end of my day: what went well, what didn’t, what I need to accomplish to achieve my goals. This has tremendously helped my goals and keeping my motivation more consistent, especially at work. Analysing and correcting incremental changes creates long term success.

4. Cleaning up before bed - clothes, shoes, organising my bag, etc. I set a timer for 5 minutes and try to get as much done as possible.

5. Pick out my clothes the night before and steam iron them for the next day.

6. Face masks twice a week, a hair mask once a week, I scrub the soles of my feet with that foot scrubbing thingy once a week. Manicures every month because my nail beds are too sensitive to do it biweekly, iron supplements so that I’m not a moody bitch. Matching underwear to feel good about myself. Lavender spray on my pillow before sleeping so that I don’t get weird dreams.

7. Reading biographies and autobiographies. My mentor had suggested this to me and it’s amazing how literally I don’t have a single original experience - everything I’ve felt or mistakes I’ve made have already been done by someone else.

I’m going to curate a list of business books that I feel that have helped me the most recently.

8. I write a short essay everyday in the language I’m currently learning. I also end my day by talking about my day for at least 2 minutes in that language and I record it in voice memos to keep a track of my progress. I want to be fluent to a level where I can think in this language.

✨

I don’t generally share a lot about my personal life - none of you know my name or where I’m based and I feel comfortable doing that. But I do want to start giving out more insights to what I’m doing personally in my career - the good, the bad, the ugly.

Being self aware and honest to myself has helped me improve a lot. I know that shame is my Achilles heel, so now I’m reading books to combat that. I’ve caved in and decided to try therapy for a bit to see if what I’m doing is useful or not. My first session is tomorrow. Staying disciplined was my initial hurdle but the systems I’ve set (waking up early + habit stacking) have helped me slowly overcome that.

Work side, I’ve started establishing myself publicly more. I don’t want to reveal too much about what I do exactly but the good news is that our biggest competitor has noticed my progress (a former employee of that company came to us for an interview and directly asked our top management about me). It’s been 4 months that I’ve been working here but I know that next year I really have to swing the bat and hit a home run. I’ve decided to work on the field more and less in the office to really understand people’s needs and create unique solutions.

The daily/weekly/quarterly diary is definitely credited to my recent wins. That’s the biggest change I’ve made in my routine and i can already see that it’s working well. I’m going to continue refining and implementing that method.

Recent work methods I’ve decided to start working on (I’m not required to do these but I do it for my growth):

1. I’ve started studying popular companies’ business and revenue models in detail. Everything is adoptable and adaptable, you just have to figure out how to tweak something for your company’s clients and needs. Now I’ve decided that I want to keep a track of our competitors, their business models, their owners names, pricing strategy, their target audience etc etc on an excel sheet so that I’m aware with what’s happening in the market. 

2. I’ve started making client profiles. Every time I meet a client, I note down their name, the company name, what they were like, anything specific they seemed to like or want, how much they had paid us for a service, what their paying capacity could be, etc. 

[theambitiouswoman]

How To Become A Brand New Person ✨✨

Self Reflect:

Journal daily.

Think about past decisions and how they impacted your life.

Meditate regularly.

Create a vision board to visualize your goals.

Review your strengths and weaknesses.

Identify your core values and beliefs.

Figure out your passions and interests.

Think about your childhood dreams and aspirations.

Evaluate your current state of happiness and fulfillment.

Set Clear Goals:

Define specific career goals, like "Get promoted within two years."

Set health goals, like "Lose 20 pounds in six months."

Create financial goals such as "Save $10,000 for a vacation."

Establish personal development goals, like "Read 24 books in a year."

Set relationship goals, such as "Improve communication with my partner."

Define education goals, like "Complete a master's degree in three years."

Set travel goals, like "Visit five new countries in the next two years."

Create hobbies and interests goals, such as "Learn to play a musical instrument."

Set community or volunteer goals, like "Volunteer 100 hours this year."

Establish mindfulness or self-care goals, such as "Practice meditation daily."

Self Care:

Exercise for at least 30 minutes a day.

Follow a balanced diet with plenty of fruits and vegetables.

Prioritize getting 7-9 hours of quality sleep each night.

Practice in relaxation techniques like deep breathing or yoga.

Take regular breaks at work to avoid burnout.

Schedule "me time" for activities you enjoy.

Limit exposure to stressors and toxic people.

Practice regular skincare and grooming routines.

Seek regular medical check-ups and screenings.

Stay hydrated by drinking enough water daily.

Personal Development:

Read a book every month from various genres.

Attend workshops or seminars on topics of interest.

Learn a new language or musical instrument.

Take online courses to acquire new skills.

Set aside time for daily reflection and self improvement.

Seek a mentor in your field for guidance.

Attend conferences and networking events.

Start a side project or hobby to expand your abilities.

Practice public speaking or communication skills.

Do creative activities like painting, writing, or photography.

Create a Support System:

Build a close knit group of friends who uplift and inspire you.

Join clubs or organizations aligned with your interests.

Connect with a mentor or life coach.

Attend family gatherings to maintain bonds.

Be open and honest in your communication with loved ones.

Seek advice from trusted colleagues or supervisors.

Attend support groups for specific challenges (e.g., addiction recovery).

Cultivate online connections through social media.

Find a therapist or counselor for emotional support.

Participate in community or volunteer activities to meet like minded people.

Change Habits:

Cut back on sugary or processed foods.

Reduce screen time and increase physical activity.

Practice gratitude by keeping a daily journal.

Manage stress through mindfulness meditation.

Limit procrastination by setting specific deadlines.

Reduce negative self-talk by practicing self-compassion.

Establish a regular exercise routine.

Create a budget and stick to it.

Develop a morning and evening routine for consistency.

Overcome Fear and Self Doubt:

Face a specific fear head-on (example: public speaking).

Challenge your negative thoughts with positive affirmations.

Seek therapy to address underlying fears or traumas.

Take small, calculated risks to build confidence.

Visualize success in challenging situations.

Surround yourself with supportive and encouraging people.

Journal about your fears and doubts to gain clarity.

Celebrate your accomplishments, no matter how small.

Focus on your strengths and accomplishments.

Embrace failure as a valuable learning experience.

Embrace Change:

Relocate to a new city or country.

Switch careers or industries to pursue your passion.

Take on leadership roles in your workplace.

Volunteer for projects outside your comfort zone.

Embrace new technologies and digital tools.

Travel to unfamiliar destinations.

Start a new hobby or creative endeavor.

Change your daily routine to add variety.

Adjust your mindset to see change as an opportunity.

Seek out diverse perspectives and viewpoints.

Practice Gratitude:

Write down three things you're grateful for each day.

Express gratitude to loved ones regularly.

Create a gratitude jar and add notes of appreciation.

Reflect on the positive aspects of challenging situations.

Show gratitude by volunteering or helping others in need.

Send thank-you notes or messages to people who've helped you.

Keep a gratitude journal and review it regularly.

Share your gratitude openly during family meals or gatherings.

Focus on the present moment and appreciate the little things.

Practice gratitude even in times of adversity.

Be Patient:

Set realistic expectations for your progress.

Accept that personal growth takes time.

Focus on the journey rather than the destination.

Learn from setbacks and view them as opportunities to improve.

Celebrate small milestones along the way.

Practice self-compassion during challenging times.

Stay committed to your goals, even when progress is slow.

Keep a journal to track your personal growth.

Recognize that patience is a valuable skill in personal transformation.

Celebrate Small Wins:

Treat yourself to your favorite meal or dessert.

Reward yourself with a spa day or self-care activity.

Share your achievements with friends and loved ones.

Create a vision board to visualize your successes.

Acknowledge and congratulate yourself in a journal.

Give yourself permission to take a break and relax.

Display reminders of your accomplishments in your workspace.

Take a day off to celebrate a major milestone.

Host a small gathering to mark your achievements.

Set aside time to reflect on how far you've come.

Maintain Balance:

Set clear boundaries in your personal and work life.

Prioritize self care activities in your daily routine.

Schedule regular breaks and downtime.

Learn to say "no" when necessary to avoid overcommitment.

Evaluate your work life balance regularly.

Seek support from friends and family to avoid burnout.

Be kind to yourself and accept imperfections.

Practice mindfulness to stay present and grounded.

Revisit your priorities and adjust them as needed.

Embrace self love and self acceptance as part of your daily life.