#virtual reception

[freshfrenchangel]

Now it's time to go to my suite room.

Credits on my Flickr.

[vickyvirtual01]

Professional Virtual Reception Service by Vicky Virtual

 Experience the benefits of a professional virtual reception service with Vicky Virtual. Our team of skilled virtual receptionists is dedicated to providing outstanding support to your business, handling everything from call answering to appointment scheduling. By choosing our virtual reception service, you can ensure that your clients receive prompt and courteous assistance, enhancing your business's reputation and customer satisfaction. Let Vicky Virtual take care of your reception needs, allowing you to focus on what matters most—growing your business.

[fingertipsmp3]

I really get back from a (1) event and I have to lie in the recovery position for approximately three business days

[virtua-decor]

[directcremation1]

What are the various services offered by funeral homes in Montreal?

Many people only think about funeral homes when a family member or loved one passes away. But funeral homes in Montreal offer many different services well before and after death: 

Funeral Pre-planning in Montreal 

Our funeral directors can guide you through the process of pre-planning your own funeral or that of a loved one. This means you can make all the arrangements in advance and even pay for them upfront, if you want. This can be a good option if you want to ensure everything is taken care of and you don’t want your family to have to worry about it. 

Funeral Services in Montreal 

Of course, funeral homes also offer actual funeral services in Montreal. If the deceased didn’t make any pre-arrangements, the funeral directors can work with you to plan a service that honours your loved one, including things you might not have thought about like music and readings. The funeral home can also help with things like providing the venue, arranging the transportation, and taking care of the body. 

Direct Cremation in Montreal 

Many funeral homes in Montreal also offer cremation services. This is an alternative to a traditional burial service and can be less expensive. It’s also a good option if you want to scatter the ashes in a special place. 

Virtual Funeral Services 

Many funeral homes are now offering virtual funeral services for people who are out of town or are unable to attend services in person. Services are streamed online so people can view, and even participate, from anywhere on their computer or mobile device. 

Funeral Reception Services in Montreal 

After the funeral service, many people have a reception or gathering to celebrate the life of the person who has passed away. Funeral homes in Montreal can help with this by providing the venue and catering. This can be a good option if you don’t want to worry about renting a space and setting everything up yourself. 

Grief & Healing Resources in Montreal 

Many funeral homes also provide support after the death of a loved one, such as healing resources or grief counseling. This can be a helpful service for people who are struggling to cope with the death of a loved one. The funeral home can connect you with a counsellor who can help you work through your grief in a healthy way. 

These are just some of the different services that funeral homes in Montreal offer. If you need assistance with any aspect of planning a funeral, don’t hesitate to contact Direct Cremation Services for help. 

[octuscle]

Distilled masculinity

Timothy was a twink. There was no other way to put it. He had a flawless soft house, a rosy, soft face, golden curls, hardly any beard growth and virtually no body hair. There were a lot of people who found him incredibly sexy the way he was. He was shagged at least once a day. But he couldn't get close to the men he actually liked, the big, hairy musclemen. He was invisible to them… Completely.

In order to be as close to his idols as possible, he had taken on a temporary job at the gym on campus. Working a bit at reception, tidying up in the evenings… But his favorite task was to collect the towels from the training area in the evening and take them to the laundry. If he was lucky, a few members of the wrestling team had wiped their sweat with them. And then their musk still hung in the cotton. Timothy couldn't get enough of sinking his face into these towels. Before he fed them into the washing machine, he had jerked off into the towels more than once. Especially when he himself had found wank stains in the towels, which unfortunately happened far too rarely for his liking.

At some point, Timothy began not to put the towels that stank the most in the laundry, but to secretly collect them in his own locker in the gym. The stench became more and more overwhelming when he opened the locker… The very idea that he could sink his nose into the dirty towels again made his puny cock hard. But he remained a twink. Nothing to change! Not even through his attempts to work out in the gym himself. Preferably before or after the official opening hours. When other musclemen trained with him, he felt uncomfortable on the one hand because he was such a beanpole. And on the other hand, he had a hard-on that couldn't be hidden. No, if the members of the wrestling team or the football team were anywhere near him, he couldn't train…

Timothy's major was chemistry. If his dream of finally getting close to the big guys wasn't going to come true, he at least wanted to become a successful chemist. His dream was to isolate substances that could turn people like him into people like his idols. But that would remain as much a dream as ever being shagged by the quarterback or the captain of the wrestling team.

After a sleepless night in which he had jerked off more than once, Timothy had an idea. It seemed crazy to him. But he had to try it. He wanted to distill the sweat, the cum, the musk from his towel collection. He wanted a concentrate that he could rub under his armpits. If he didn't look like one of the mountains of muscle, he at least wanted to smell like one… And as the sun slowly rose, he also had an idea of how he could do this… That evening, when he was finally alone again in the gym, he wanted to get straight down to business.

The experimental setup was not easy. Timothy had made something like a funnel out of old plastic boxes in the gym's storeroom and filled it with distilled water. Over and over again. Until it slowly began to drip from the bottom of his funnel. Water that had run through the towels and picked up the delicious scents of dozens of jocks on its way. It was long after midnight when he had collected about a gallon of liquid. She smelled like the towels had smelled. Timothy stuffed them into the washing machine. His boss had long wondered where all the towels disappeared to. Now the stock would be replenished. Timothy took the canister of flavored water and went home. now he wanted to distill the scent. He had bought a still for amateur distillers. But he didn't want to make schnapps. He had other things in mind. Unfortunately, his plan didn't work out. Just as the first oily drops were dripping into his Erlenmeyer flask, there was a bang! And the whole still blew up. Shit, it was 04:00 in the morning. He heard neighbors yelling. Timothy hurriedly grabbed a rag and wiped up the mess on his kitchen floor. And he got a boner. Bigger and harder than ever before. The rag stank! Stank more than any changing room. Every football jersey. Than anything he'd ever smelled. It didn't smell beastly. It smelled like a beast! But Timothy stank too. When the apparatus had exploded, there had been plenty of splashes of the original liquid and the distillate. Timothy went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. His T-shirt was stained. He took it off. And absent-mindedly, he took the cloth he had just used to wipe the floor and rubbed his upper body with it. The smell! He rubbed his face. Damn it! That overwhelming smell! He took the cloth and rubbed his upper body as if it were a washcloth.

Tim grunted. Yeah, the washcloth wasn’t exactly clean. But hell, it was early in the morning, and he was about to hit the gym anyway. Why did he even bother washing up before? Washing was for wimps. Yeah, he was everything but a wimp. He started posing. He liked what he saw. He was in good shape. When the bulking phase ended and he prepped for the next competitions, he'd have to shave his chest hair again. He hated that. But shit, he was too dumb for any other job. Or for college or some crap. And he didn’t want a football career either. Coach kicked him off the team after he banged the quarterback. Hehehe, it was worth it. But now he wasn't gonna crawl back to the team. Tim made his pecs dance. 5:30 AM. In an hour and a half, he’d have to open the gym. Plenty of time to chug a gallon of protein shake and maybe do a little leg workout. He'd hit chest again tonight. Maybe he’d even let the wrestling team captain give him a hand with it.

[scuderiasundays]

better together

summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌

words: 1,045

a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.

It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.

Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.

Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.

The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.

Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.

“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.

As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.

He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.

His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.

As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 

“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.

“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.

“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.

He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?

You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.

"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 

The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.

It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 

His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.

New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.

He replied right away.

I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?

[natalyarose]

𝓛𝓾𝓷𝓪𝓻 𝓝𝓪𝓴𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓼 - 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓶𝔂𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓮 🌙

Originally, I was going to do a short write-up on one character who's Nakshatras made sense to me, but this turned into an extensive piece on the mystical, mysterious nature of Moon ruled Nakshatras lol. I hope this is enjoyed & without further ado, ima delve into this. 💕

Now to put it plainly, Moon ruled Nakshatras are lunatics. I'm allowed to say it lol, but seriously. Lu-na-tics. but that's okay! In fact, it's great; a bit of lunacy is an asset in art & anything that requires outside of the box thinking. The Moon is often associated with purity; but in a sense to be pure is to welcome any and all whims & emotions without judgement.

Running into the wild ocean at 3am solely because you felt like it? Okay! (my Shravana stellium mum lol), frolicking in the woods with no rhyme or reason? Sure! Making daisy chains and thinking about chai lattes lol (Moon = milk, lunar people often love milk drinks) instead of focusing on your assignment? Yup. Dating some guy who's known to be trouble because you 'feel there's something more to him'? Mm..

The Moon rules over all that is mystical, whereas Mercury rules over the cerebral realm. This is why Ashlesha tends to be a very mystical Nakshatra- it's placed within Cancer (Moon ruled) but is a Mercurial Lunar Mansion. In Ashlesha, there is a union between unexplainable intuition & sharp intellect. It is said that Ashlesha natives if they apply their focus correctly, would be the first to uncover the secrets of our world.

The Moon is a blank canvas; readily available for anybody to project their energy onto. Moon seldom clings to an identity or persona, it just 'is'.

in Rohini, there is this sense of 'nakedness' & a lot of vulnerability. Themes of unbridled imagination, sensitivity, pleasure seeking & creativity come through, and there is a lack of boundaries being lunar yet co-ruled by Venus; a planet pertaining to relationships. Rohini really needs some form of external structure, but at the same time thrives on lunar fluctuation and instability. It is why the creativity in Rohini is so immense and there is constant growth.

In Hasta, we see the co-rulership of Mercury, being in Sidereal Virgo. Hasta is where the Moon realises that it is not always safe to be completely receptive and vulnerable, therefore becomes shrewd and learns to be a little more pragmatic & purposeful in the way they express themselves. For this reason, you'll find Hasta slightly less represented in this 'wild feminine' archetype exploration, though some Hasta natives still very much embody this energy. Hasta; similarly to Ashlesha focuses on being conservative & logical in the face of internal lunar fluctuation.

In Shravana, we see lunar energy matured- the co-rulership of Saturn provides the structure, discipline and boundaries the Moon needs to thrive. I find that while Rohini is very maternal & associated with motherhood, I tend to see Shravana as THE mother. The stability Saturn provides makes for this ability to nurture & listen but still instil some sort of routine or restriction, which is necessary in motherhood. A friend of mine noticed that Saturn Nakshatras (think of Pushya, the other Moon-Saturn Nakshatra) are strongly represented in themes of motherhood due to the fact that children thrive when there is (gentle) but definitive limitation. Rohini's style of nurturing is very free form and full of sweetness & virtually zero judgement.

The beauty of lunar people really shows in how comfortable they are with change. I've noticed Moon ruled people retain their youth and tend to age very beautifully partially because they are so in tune with feminine cycles and are not as resistant to change. This isn't surprising as Moon is connected to the face & traditionally holds associations with fertility and youth. Moon Nakshatras embrace flow, embrace change, so they move into every phase of life with grace.

Random note: I've always suspected this but I just saw this on TikTok the other night to confirm- research shows that people who have a lot of pimples or oily skin, tend to age much better due to that extra oil. As mentioned, Moon rules the face & also relates to water- I've noticed & it has been written that people with prominent Moon influence will be more susceptible to acne & weight fluctuations due to the water/fluid connection. A lot of people who age remarkably well tend to have a Moon Nakshatra somewhere (and people who look older even from a young age are often Saturnian; Saturn Nakshatras falling opposite to Moon).

A lot of people mistake lunar individuals for being 'dumb' and ditzy, but there is a certain wisdom in the madness as you will find in the examples I'm using today :)

𝒜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓎𝓈𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝒜𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝐸𝓁𝒾𝓏𝒶𝒷𝑒𝓉𝒽, '𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉' - 𝑅𝑜𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒾 𝒮𝓊𝓃, 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒶 𝑀𝑜𝑜𝓃

I watched 'The Great' a while back and I couldn't get over how strongly the actress; Belinda Bromilow portrayed Rohini energy! I looked up her chart after watching, & as per Galactic Center mid-mula ayanamsa she is indeed a Rohini Sun native, likely with Hasta Moon; only amplifying the lunar influence.

There are many reasons, but what really tipped me off was how as a character, despite being an 'older woman' she really comes across so youthful and full of this magical, fanciful zest for life. I also find her gorgeous!!

I ADORE her character, she is so funny & light without deviating from the overall intensity of the show.

In 'The Great', Aunt Elizabeth is this 'strange', mystical, offbeat woman with a lot of unconventional wisdom. She's a woman who talks to butterflies and other creatures, has all of these 'wacky' witch-esque remedies that work, and has no shortage of odd, seemingly random one liners that often veil deep metaphors.

She often would be seen in the show comforting the main characters & acting as a trusted, empathetic maternal figure/guide. Simultaneously, she was viewed as somewhat insane & often used that perception to her advantage (her Hasta Moon reflecting the calculated side of Moon). Her character is extremely loving, able to look past the faults of others and show softness and compassion to people considered 'unlovable'. One of her notable roles as a character being Peter's (the barbaric Emperor who reigns with cruelty's) aunt who was really more of a maternal figure to him than his real mother, who was cruel much like himself.

She's in a sense, everyone's comfort, the woman in everyone's ear (very Serpent yoni too).

Aunt Elizabeth doesn't condone or necessarily agree with Peter's evil actions, but she has this beautiful way of seeing the little boy in him and nurturing him no matter what (Rohini's combination of Moon & Venus creates a person who is capable of seeing the beauty in everything & everyone).

There is another strong plot point pertaining to her child who sadly drowned. I've noticed in media, Moon women tend to have strong plots related to their love for other people (children, spouses, etc.) not because they don't stand strong on their own, but because Moon women naturally devote to their loved ones.

Throughout the show, Aunt Elizabeth has this gentle persuasion that subtly influences the characters in profound ways. I've seen talk recently of Moon Nakshatras being manipulative, and in a way they most definitely are (for better or worse). The same way the Moon pulls on the tides & pulls the attention of humans & animals alike.

Hasta's more shrewd nature shows in Elizabeth's surprising ability to scheme and commit dark acts in order to achieve a bigger goal- even though the Rohini energy gives her this energy of being very kooky, 'off with the fairies' character.

Moon's manipulation can be very much this subtle, almost subliminal feminine influence. It reminds me of the saying, 'behind every powerful man is a woman'; meaning that a man who is powerful never stands alone. He never got there without the love, or at least the influence of a woman. Behind him there is a woman who nurtures him (be it his mother in childhood or his wife), subtly influences him, lifts his spirits, etc. Even if not, the fact of him even incarnating and being born in the first place is the work of a woman.

A memorable moment from the series that strikes me as very indicative of Moon Nakshatras tendency towards intense emotions & strong sensitivity is when Elizabeth is sitting in the carriage after witnessing the gruesome affects of the war in their region. She is eerily quiet on the trip home, until suddenly she calmly requests for the carriage to stop. She proceeds to get out of the carriage, and scream & thrash around intensely as catharsis for the pain & anger she felt for the horror she'd just witnessed. :(

More on Elizabeth, there is also this aspect of the story where she is a sort of nymphomaniac lol, having many lovers of any age/gender (Rohini doesn't discriminate lmao) and is forever tragically in love with her deceased lover Peter the Great (Peter's father). Peter the Great was a womaniser, but in a sense Elizabeth was his 'true love' which reminds me of Rohini's mythology being 'the favourite wife of the Moon'. He had many lovers and a great deal of power, but Elizabeth was the closest he had to a true love.

Elizabeth was shown multiple times to be very psychic- an example of this being her 'feeling it' & having a vision the moment Peter died.

In summary, this character is just such a glaring example of what an abundance of lunar energy manifests like (for better and for worse since she is a very multifaceted character). Speaking of which, the word 'multifaceted' in itself always makes me think of the Moon. The Moon has many faces/phases.

𝑀𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝒩𝒶𝓀𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽𝓎, 𝑀𝓎𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝓇 '𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒'

A lot of public figures who have a pronounced reputation for being 'witchy', strange or mysterious/disconcerting/charmingly bizarre will have a prominent Moon ruled Nakshatra in their chart. Lunar people can really embody the archetype of being 'insane' or random. but lovable all in the same.

Kate Bush, Shravana Moon (Ashlesha Sun) I may do an independent post on Kate Bush's placements, but she is such a staple example of Moon Nakshatras & the 'wild feminine' witchy, strange but beautiful energy. Her music & music videos are full of symbolism, often pulling inspiration from obscure ideas and stories. Some people find her a bit 'weird', especially men but just as many women and men alike adore her. Very mleccah (outcaste) Nakshatra vibes. People are either inexplicably drawn to her and enchanted, or find her 'creepy'. ~I'll note that Kate is extremely Mercury influenced too, hence the much rounder face than the examples you'll see. Moon people tend to have rounded faces, but they are typically a bit longer than Mercury and have very prominent cheekbones.

Stevie Nicks, Rohini Sun Stevie Nicks is always remarked to be a witch. She never explicitly said this, but upon the release of Fleetwood Mac's 'Rhiannon', (a very witch-y song about the Celtic Goddess herself) the witch allegations began lol. Other than that, Stevie Nicks & Fleetwood Mac have always been associated with the hippy/spiritual/witchy crowd.

Helena Bonham Carter, Rohini Sun Helena has been known to often play 'bizarre', witchy or macabre characters, known to work alongside Tim Burton (also a Rohini native) often. Some of these roles to note are her as the Queen of Hearts and Bellatrix Lestrange; but there are countless that speak to the lunar wild feminine archetype. Beyond that, Helena is known to have a very eccentric dress sense off screen, people often remarking that she has all this money yet chooses to still be herself and a little strange.

Alica Keys, Hasta Moon, Shravana Sun I can't think of any overtly 'witchy' or 'bizarre' associations for Alicia Keys, but I wanted to include her because I feel like her sweet emotive face and gorgeous flowing hair is very reflective of her Moon dominance. She has the 'vibe'. She's also mentioned that she has a spiritual practice in her everyday life & references the divine feminine.

James Marsden, Rohini Moon admittedly, I only know him in two movies, but in both he is playing this kinda bizarre, theatrical, childlike character very indicative of Rohini energy. In 'Enchanted' he is the dramatic, vibrant and endlessly cheerful fairytale prince who breaks into song whenever he gets the chance. In 'Hop' he is this uninspired guy who lives with his parents and can't seem to get a job or find purpose. That is until he meets the easter bunny who'd run away from 'Easter Island' and didn't want to be the easter bunny anymore. He then proceeded to become the easter bunny himself- lmao. If you know about Rohini's relationship with sweets & children (not to mention Rohini natives typically having prominent front teeth like a bunny) this movie is very on the nose.

Kylie Minogue, Rohini Sun & Pushya Asc an Aussie legend I say. Kylie is another one who always embodied this very lunar feminine mystique, she actually sort of reminds me of Marilyn Monroe (Rohini Sun) in some photos of her in her youth. The witchy, eerie, 'haunting' vibe Moon people can radiate really shines through in her enchanting murder ballad 'Where the Wild Roses Grow' with Nick Cave (a Magha native of course). A personal favourite of mine.

Teal Swan, Shravana Moon Teal Swan is a famous spiritual 'guru' who is known to have extrasensory abilities. She is a controversial figure due to strange behaviour in her past & questionable things in her personal life. Some disregard her as a narcissistic cult leader for these reasons, but in my opinion even if that were the case, two things can be true- someone can have ill intent with the knowledge they possess yet still genuinely possess that knowledge. I find a lot of her content incredibly helpful and intuitive. Credit to @makingspiritualityreal for my learning about this- you'll notice that a lot of individuals with strong Lunar influence in their chart will have very light, translucent looking eyes indicative of their receptive, psychic nature. Even if the eyes are brown, they still will have a notably 'light', reflective, soft, crystal-esque quality. We see this with all of these examples, but Teal especially.

Amber Heard, Hasta Moon I was struggling to think of Hasta examples that fit this archetype since as I mentioned earlier, Hasta places a huge emphasis on gaining control over their own lunar nature. In Hasta there is less of a tendency to be 'wild and free' the way we see in Rohini & Shravana. However, I still see in Amber Heard's infamy a different expression of the lunar witchy lunacy. A lot of people regard her nature as 'insane', overemotional, very manipulative, bewitching people with her beauty, etc. This being said, I know I've definitely seen witchy-ish Hasta natives, I just can't think of any as readily as I can the other Moon Nakshatras.

Alanis Morrisette, Rohini Sun Just another woman in music who radiates that lunar, wild feminine, raw emotional energy. If you listen to her song 'You Oughta Know' and see the emotionally chaotic, passionate music video, you'll absolutely see what I mean!

Tori Amos, Hasta Moon another witch-esque phenomenal alternative artist. I just remembered to include her!! She's perfect for this list. Listen to 'Cornflake Girl'. and once again you'll see the lunar, feminine energy. Shania Twain & Kate Winslet are two more Hasta natives I thought of who embody this energy, but I can't add anymore pics to the post :(

It's worth noting that Kate Bush, Tori Amos, Alanis Morissette and some other artists are often piled together and referred to as being similar in 'vibe'. Mysterious, feminine, emotional, mystical, etc. I'd venture to guess that other artists in the same sort of creative realm have Moon ruled Nakshatras.

I just thought of Bjork, another artist who is compared to ones mentioned. She is Swati Moon, with Rahu in Rohini as the lord of her Moon!

One last thing I want to mention, is I've noticed that Moon women can sometimes be viewed as 'anti feminist' by other women despite the fact that a lot of the time, healthy Moon women are extreme symbols of feminine strength and courage to be womanly & emotionally vulnerable. It's kinda like some people see the beauty, the softness, the emotion and picture a girl flouncing around in frilly dresses catering to men. Needless to say, a shallow and ironically anti-feminist conclusion. That being said, lunar receptivity can definitely make Moon influenced women prone to doing a lot to cater to men, but I think it's a mistake to miss the wisdom in the 'frilliness' and fanciful nature of lunar natives.

Anyway as always, I could write forever, this one was super fun to do :) noticing and dissecting these patterns is such a magical thing.

I hope this was interesting to someone, lots of love! 💞💞💞

[corpsebrigadier]

I feel the whole "touch grass" sentiment seldom really comes with any practical advice as to how to disengage with Internet discourse and to stop falling into the pit of doing Internet controversy so that social media companies can sell advertising at our petty gladiatorial battles. I cannot emphasize enough though how much logging off and interacting face-to-face with individuals in my community improves my mental well-being and is more useful praxis than having a virtual slap fight with some stranger whose life is far removed from mine. At the same time, I also recognize that not everyone has safe/receptive communities, grass to touch, and the ability to get out.

What I can say though is that there is still an abundance of virtual grass to touch, even if it isn't tailored to give you the same dopamine rush as fighting with WrongBad People online. We can still do things that are meaningful, that are locally-oriented, and/or that are generally good for us. If we can engage in the labor necessary to do shitty discourse (typing, composing, contemplating), we can probably work through our thoughts in a journal or a private blog. We can possibly YouTube/Zoom our way through City Council Meetings. We can learn to build old school websites. We can find volunteer opportunities (Transcribe museum texts! Donate Gutenberg books! Watch/catalog cute animals!). We can surf the archaic web and enjoy all manner of cool and enriching public domain media.

We can still use the Internet in ways that make us better.

[sheikfangirl]

Hey there! I’m a longtime Zelda fan, especially BOTW/TOTK, and in my time in the fandom, I’ve never been overly fond of the idea of ZeLink, that is to say, until I saw your gorgeous art and read your headcanons, they are such a wholesome couple and so supporting of each other and ahhh! I ship ZeLink because of you! im always hugely into ship art and seeing what others come up with, but so far you are on top of my list of fav Zelda ship artists, I get excited and tingly whenever I see that you posted 😂🫶

Along with me gushing about your 👌👌👌 art, I wanted to ask because I love your style; how do you go about choosing the colors for the shadowing on the characters, I noticed yours always comes out so perfectly contrasting and vivid! and I noticed that you use different colored line-art depending on the base colors of the subjects, (and I’ve seen a lot of other artists do it too) I have wanted to try it out for awhile, but I haven’t figured out how to pick the right line art colors, and was hoping for some tips if you’re willing 💜💜💜💜💜 again, love your art

OMG @stellercherry you adorable PERSON! Let me virtual hug you!! 🤗 The idea of my art making you receptive to Zelink makes my heart melt! Thank you so much for your kind words!! YAS THEY ARE WHOLESOME!!! I love BotW Zelink because of it's stark contrast with my other fav Zelink, OoT! oh no...i must not think of OoT, i will crawl under my desk again and cry.

So, yeah, I got a few tricks up my sleeve cuz i am actually a Senior 2D Artist in the game industry irl 🤭 I will gladly share with you (and everyone who is reading this reply because you are not to first to ask :) a couple of art tricks I wish I knew when I was a junior artist. I sincerely believe in knowledge sharing and no way i'm gonna be a gate keeper. Gate keeping artists are not cool imo. English is not my first language, and explaining art with words is tedious... i'm gonna ask Drake and visual references to help me out!

yeah.... this makes me realise this Zelink piece could've have way better contrast value lol. Oh well! I really hope this will be useful! Good luck with your art projects, and, as corny as it sounds, don't forget: have fun!! Cheers!!!

[ryukatters]

kaaatttt 😭😭😭 i need some satoru headcanons to heal my soul... what is he like as a bf??

ask and you shall receive my love (writing this to heal my soul)

content: modern AU, fluff, nsfw headcanons at the end

SFW

“mmm..i think i deserve a little treat right now.” 

except he says that at least 5 times a day and you will also be given a little treat. he does not care if you don’t want to eat kikufuku right now, you will be accompanying him to get some. 

speaking of, this man is basically eating 24/7. if gojo leaves your side for any reason while you guys are home, just know he is scavenging the kitchen for scraps like the raccoon he is. 

food is one of satoru’s main love languages. there’s something oddly satisfying and strangely warm about his loved ones eating and sharing a meal together, even if they tend to make him the butt of the joke in every single dinner conversation. 

will force you to become a sanrio girly idc (if you aren’t one already)

“babe, look!” "satoru, we have enough cinnamoroll plushies at home." "so you hate me then?"

the type to pick you up and spin you around whenever you two hug. he’ll spin and spin until both of you are dizzy and crash onto the couch.

attention whore. also just a whore in general but mostly a whore for (your) attention. will absolutely do the MOST to make sure your eyes are on him— i’m talking about poking your cheek, locking your phone if you’re scrolling through tiktok next to him, and it doesn’t even take much for him to start begging. he’s a loser like that.

scarily in tune with you. satoru is a lot more emotionally intelligent than he likes to let on around others, but he picks up on a lot of things. both of you are at a function and he can take one look at you and know that it's time to pack it up and go home.

is very sentimental about the things you give him/the things you two do together. before you started dating, satoru wasn't really one to collect tiny trinkets or keep ticket stubs because he thought they were just a waste of space. after you two got together, he started keeping virtually everything in a little box hidden in his closet. he realized that it's nice to give sentimental value to the little things, because then the memories associated with them live on in something physical.

he just... can't keep his hands to himself LOL. and like not even in a sexual manner either (sometimes), he just naturally gravitates towards you and is almost always touching you somehow— hand fiddling with your jewelry or hair, arm around your shoulder when you're sitting, arm around your waist when you're standing, playing footsies, whatever.

this man is painfully in love with you, and he makes it everyone's (mostly nanami's) problem. manages to bring you up in every single conversation with a lovesick grin on his face.

you will rarely ever hear satoru address you by your actual name. it will always be some variation of baby, babe, sweetheart, love, etc. uses snookums, cupcake, sweet cheeks, cinnamon sugar roll, my little sausage mcgriddle <3 on a rotating basis to annoy you

NSFW

you know those couples that just have this pent up sexual tension between them for no reason? like y’all could just be looking at each other but to everyone else it feels like you two are just eyefucking ​​😭 that’s you and gojo

no matter how long you guys have been together for, that spark between you just doesn't go away. people can see the immense physical attraction between you two.

is somewhat of an exhibitionist LMAO. he literally gets horny at the worst times and will drag you to the nearest supply closet, even if it means breaking the door in the process. who knows, maybe his real kink is vandalism

enjoys when you put up a bit of a fight/act like a brat. it makes putting you in your place so much sweeter.

very vocal— talking, moaning, whimpering. he sounds very pretty. he's extremely receptive to your touch so simply rubbing your hand along the bulge in his jeans has him moaning like a pornstar.

say it with me: satoru gojo is a pussy👏🏻pleaser👏🏻!

really likes going down on you. he thinks he could stay in between your thighs forever if you'd let him.

nasty. will cum inside you and clean it up with his tongue.

oscillates between wanting to overstimulate you and deny you. sometimes he does both. the way you get this hazy look in your eye and become so pliant, so needy for him gets him going.

he gets strangely possessive during sex. maybe it's a way for him to affirm that you really do love him and find him attractive.

"i'm the only one that can fuck you like this, right? make you feel this good?"

is a fan of snacks during aftercare LOL. you could have just had the most wild sex of your life, with the two of you panting as you lie in bed before satoru rolls over and opens his nightstand drawer and pulls out a pack of oreos before shoving one into your mouth

Some of these aren't even bf headcanons they're just how I think he'd be LMFAO

[frogkicks]

WELL,,, i learned from my last post fans of post-redemption deathstar fluff exist!!! im back, here's more:

you guys ever think about how Dominator is one of the few characters with ears,,,

OPINION: From my limited exposure, it seems Deathstar often portrays Dominator as super confidently flirtatious, and Wander as a bumbling, blushy guy.

I personally don't like it? Here's my thoughts:

Dominator used seduction insincerely to mess with Hater. That's kinda it. I think without her villainous power tripping as a barrier, expressing or receiving genuine love confuses her. Sylvia calling her a friend gave her pause, and she mentally lagged after Wander saved her life and hugged her.

It's so obvious Wander has the charm advantage. The guy is immune to embarrassment, and has all of the experience articulating love, because he wasn't a sadistic galaxy destroyer. It's second nature for him, casual.

I like Dominator having a confident, charismatic approach for everything, but my silly headcanon is that Wander's doting throws her off sometimes. She's never been receptive to affection until virtually 5 minutes ago. I think it's logical for her to be like a fish out of water, at least for a while.

[from-vuka]

So... this is a drabble (do ppl still use that word?) for a future idea i have of Ghoap x reader.... lol (i think reader is gender neutral but i could be wrong ;;) not all of it is planned out so there may be gaps but imma rewrite into a whole piece maybe????

Listen idk im still getting used to putting myself out there LMAO

cw: implied cheating towards the end, neglectful relationship (not simon), married! reader, "the one that got away" mentality (idk if this is a cw but i put here)

‧₊*: ⋅ଳ⋅˚₊‧𖦹₊⊹⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

When they parked, the first question was where to go.

The mission has been a bust. Intel was incorrect or outright wrong, gaps missing in reports that they knew would be a problem later--and they were always right. When shit hit the fan, they knew exactly what to do: collect their people and dip before Laswell had anything to say about shooting at Russian military.

The little SUV they stole was hot, the AC blasting but doing little to quelch the need for water or how sweaty they had gotten running despite the possibility of snow. Price had long since left the car, pacing back and forth as he tried to call Kate. Gaz tinkered on the laptop, seeing if any of the files they were able to download or code ripped from its program could indicate a next step, a lead in the right direction.

Soap and Ghost sat in the trunk; its overhead door open to let in the late autumn breeze.

“Fuck, another night on the fuckin’ ground,” Soap moaned, leaning back against the inner side of the SUV. “Gonna be a rough fu--”

“I know a place,” Simon said quickly, almost too quick. His thumbs, looking too big for the little cracked screen of the iPhone 8 the military gave him (since he refused a smartphone for as long as possible) hit the virtual keyboard. He sent two messages before the machine was buzzing and flashing. He got up, rolled his shoulders, and answered.

Johnny whistled, pulling Gaz from the blue light of his laptop to Simon. His feet paced like John’s but quicker; too much energy for such a short call. His eyes didn’t seem so harsh as he explained the situation, describing his irritation at the whole thing. When he hung up, his body relaxed only a fraction before turning to the car.

“Got us a place to lay low,” He murmured. “Don’t see us getting a hotel from Laswell,” He commented as John cursed and gripped his phone, containing the growing rage for another short while. “Reception out here isn’t gonna happen ‘til the clouds fuck off.”

“The fuck you mean you know a place?” Soap asked, and Simon tugged his arm to pull him out of the trunk.

He closed the trunk door and shoved Soap into the back seat, he himself taking the driver’s seat. John didn’t question their new set-up, sitting in the passenger’s side and pointing the vents at his sweaty skin.

“We’re stayin’ with a friend. Lives remote, no neighbors, little to no internet,” Ghost hummed, pulling off the side of the road and heading to where his GPS blinked in retaliation for the lack of connection.

The team didn’t ask any more questions, too tired from the run to get this shitty little SUV, and instead reflected on the mission and their faults, as if they could have done anything to change the outcome. Bad intel is bad intel—there isn’t a way to fix it or better training to prepare for it. Still, the loss burned their skin like fire ant bites.

At a certain point, the phone stopped giving directions. Gaz questioned it, and Simon’s response made sense: when you live as remote as his friend did, GPS could only take you so far. The rest was muscle memory.

Soap asked him how often he came here. Simon said every time he had to leave the base, get away from the shitty flat he rents only for when he’s off deployments. Most of his possessions, he said, live here. There wasn’t anyone he trusted more than this person.

As they pulled down a dirt road, the first they saw was you.

You stood outside the two-floor cabin, standing on a wrap-around porch, your hands on your hips as you watched the shitty, sad SUV park on the dirt driveway. Simon was the first to pop out despite being the driver, taking big steps up to you and the front door. His body was tense only for a moment before you hugged him hello, silent otherwise, and let him trail mud, dirt, and blood into your home.

The rest watched from the car until you waved them up, turning and heading inside. On edge, they headed into the cabin and found it homey. It wasn’t what they were imagining from previous safe houses: dirty floors with stains and dust; broken or bare furniture, maybe none at all; thick spider webs and old cooking pots.

No, it was homey-homey. The furniture was worn but comfortable, soft blankets and thick pillows over any cushioned surface available. Rugs lined the wooden floors, making pathways for your socked feet. The windows had stained glass art pieces hanging to let the light shine in rainbows, and the few lights that were on at this point in the evening were small table lamps and a candle burning in the renovated and cozy kitchen. They could smell stew cooking on the stovetop and bread baking in the fire oven.

Simon didn’t seem to feel any of the intrusion that they did. His shoes were left by the door, a couple pairs that looked eerily similar lined up on a shoe rack. The coat rack had a mix of grey, Simon-sized hoodies and jackets with fluffy, colorful, graphic jackets that seemed to fit you.

Even as Simon wandered into the kitchen, checking on the stew and bread, he looked like he fit in the small space. He opened the fridge and pulled out a case of ale and a little bottle of wine while you grabbed beer mugs and a few wine glasses. You handed him the bottle openers as he handed you oven mitts for the bread. It was synchronized—Simon had been here enough before to know how you lived and worked.

“Who’s this?” Price asked, breaking the spell between you two. Simon glances at you then at Price.

Simon explained, grinning a little as he did, that you were his best friend of nearly 10 years; that you were the person on his emergency contact and his address when he was deployed. He watched as you started serving the stew and he said that you gave him permission to keep a low profile in your home until Laswell could tell them what to do next. There weren’t any other options available that wouldn’t bring attention to them, unless they wanted to sleep in the woods. Until then, Simon saw no reason to leave this place.

Price wanted to be the one to speak the truth—that Laswell would probably get back to them by morning—but as he watched Simon place full bowls on the kitchen table in the next room over while he mumbled to you about grabbing spoons and butter knives, he couldn’t. Instead, he nodded and led the rest to the table, enjoying the quiet moments of delicious and hot food that were far better than any MRE they had in their backpacks.

The rest of the night was calm. Johhny was eager to ask questions (and John and Kyle ready to listen), but the time never came. After dinner, you showed them where the two bathrooms were and where the guest shower was located. You took them into the basement where several couches and chairs sat around a stove heating the space and a flatscreen with VHS and DVD players. A few retro gaming consoles sat displayed on the TV stand. Pointing out the blankets, comforters, and pillows on one of the couches, you said that the laundry room was in the little space off to the side in case they wanted fresh clothes. Afterwards, you thanked them for keeping the place clean and headed up to the master bedroom.

It didn’t shock any of them when Simon trailed behind you.

Clean, fed, and exhausted, the interrogations began the next morning when you wandered downstairs in one of Simon’s shirts, putting sausage in a cast iron skillet for breakfast. Johnny, now awake and ready to annoy, sat in the kitchen and asked you question after question as you answered honestly.

“Why do you live out here?”

“It’s private.”

“Do you like it here?”

“Yes. Otherwise, I would move.”

“Where do you work?”

“Don’t need to.”

“Why don’t you need to work?”

“I have money.”

“How’d you get it?”

“...Si, usually.”

Johnny smirked like a fox when he thought he caught you, but you just giggle at his obsessive nature and finish up cooking. Simon comes down nearly 30 minutes later, settling beside you in the kitchen as he brews tea and coffee. His hands wandered every now and again to your arms, your side, a hand on your lower back as he moves around the kitchen—which makes Johnny’s eyes boggle. How could Simon be keeping such a sweet thing so hidden? Why is he lying by saying a ‘friend’?

It wasn’t until later, when the morning blurred into afternoon, that they understood why.

When he arrived, Simon’s mood soured while yours grew sweeter, if only for a moment. You kissed the mystery man at the door and told him the situation, to which he didn’t seem to mind. He headed upstairs, practically ignoring your silent requests for tender affection to shower. You sulked a little, trying to put on a brave face as you started on lunch. Simon was there, then, chatting with you more than he did anyone as you prepared subs and fries. They could hear your angelic rings of laughter as he calmed you into your previously happy self.

When the man came back down, he ordered you to grab him a beer, and you did so without a second thought. He demanded you grab the remote, whined when it wasn’t working (“As always,” Simon later grumbled), and took out his frustration on you. He berated your meal with backhanded compliments. He ignored your requests for napkins or salt to finish his food and leave for the shed outside, dirty plate and crumbs left on the table.

You sighed as he left, frowning and watching him disappear into the wooden shed. Then Simon was there again, taking up his seat beside you and set up to finish eating there. His eyes glanced at you, cracking piss-poor dad jokes to get your little voice to chuckle as you finished eating—maybe not as much as Simon thought you should, as he later shoved cut-up plum and cheese squares into your face while the two of you sat on the wrap-around porch and caught up over tea.

John wasn’t sure what to do; Gaz and Soap were even more lost. It was so clear, then it was so confusing. It wasn’t until dinner was over and the team was sitting by a little bonfire, you and your apparent husband off to bed for the night, that they asked Simon.

“Who is that, really?” John asked.

“...I dunno. Thought we were somethin’, then we weren’t. I knew the world wouldn’t wait for me forever. Now... now I have this.”

“You give ‘em money?” Johnny, now, asked.

“Have to. Stupid fucker blows it all at casinos or fucking hides it. He’ll make it a problem if things aren’t paid on time when he’s the jackass ruining the credit score. Don’t know for sure, but I think the fucker might get close to physical when I’m not here. Thinkin’ bought putting cameras around just to make sure.”

“So... what? Is this just how you’ll spend the rest of your life? Don’t think you’ll need to do much convincing, that bastard doesn’t care,” Kyle said, leaning back in his seat.

“He doesn’t. Our jobs are similar, he’s just in construction. Leave for a while, come back for a little bit, and then leave again. The only difference between that bloke and me is that I like being here. But...”

He thinks to you: how happy you were to date the jackass, playing with your hair nervously; how you glowed with something primal and sensual after he showed you “the best night of your life,” even if you’d go back on your words later when the love-bomb spell wore off; how he proposed so sloppily yet you ate it up like candy because no one had ever treated you so sweetly. It didn’t matter that he got so drunk at the wedding he puked on your dress or that Simon swore he saw the moron kissing another girl at a party but couldn’t be the one to ruin you by telling the truth. Your husband was romantic, you said, but all Simon saw were red flags and a growing need to rearrange the fucker’s teeth.

“But I can’t destroy happiness I don’t understand.”

“I don’t think what’s going on is ‘happiness’...” Johnny said, opening another bottle. “More like... I dunno, a lack of respect? Not knowing what happiness really is?” He bit his lip before clicking his tongue in triumph. “No, no, it’s complacency. Nothing bad can happen if nothin’ changes.”

Simon hums, smoking a cigarette and watching the flames of the fire.

Kyle glanced at Price, who cleared his throat for a second. “Simon, I’m not usually one for this kind of thing, but--”

“I know, need to get over it,” Simon snapped, smoking down the cigarette into a nub before throwing it into the firepit.

Price frowned. “I think it might be the opposite.”

“I’m not destroying a family.”

“There isn’t a family, Ghost, just two people who are married and don’t do shit together,” Johnny said. “He doesn’t seem to be in the picture. How often is this place empty? There’re no photos of them on the wall. He didn’t seem happy to see his own partner. They don’t even have kids.”

Simon frowns. “I know. It’s the main complaint... lyin’ ‘bout what he wants.”

“So then... take ‘em,” Johnny said, Kyle rolling his eyes. “It doesn’t seem like anyone’s holding on too tight.”

Simon didn’t speak again that night. He headed upstairs when the rest departed for the basement. The next day, the man was kissing you good-bye as the team came upstairs. You looked sad, miserable even, and followed him outside. The two of you spoke, but he snapped at you before heading to the car, ignoring your whines for a last kiss. He drove off and you came back inside, starting breakfast in silence again.

When Simon came down, he knew. He pushed John, Kyle, and Johnny to the basement so he could hold you and comfort you. You cried hard into his chest, hiccupping and sobbing as you whined about his disregard for your comfort—that he didn’t care enough to kiss you goodbye again when you asked him if this was the last time he’d leave you.

Simon hated it because himself in your lover. He imagined it before: leaving for a deployment and seeing your round teary eyes as he packed. He’d stop, instead picking you up to kiss you and lay you on the bed, proving that he loved you so much more than you knew. Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to leave if you cried like you had in the past.

No, he wouldn’t. He’d see your face and feel the fear you have of losing him. He’d leave his bags in the bedroom to pull you close to the couch, feeling over your skin like he’s been dying to do since he met you in that dirty dive bar when you both were in your early 20s. He’d ignore phone calls from Price or Laswell or any other CO to take you out for dinner and fuck you in the back of his truck like you always giggled about. He’d shower with you when you came home, wash your hair and realize your scent is all around him, not just the quick perfume he gets every time you pass by.

Would he mourn the death of his career? Probably not—not if you were pressed to his side, lips kissing his jaw and chin as he held your legs in his lap. (If he was lucky, maybe even pregnant.) Every metal, award, trophy... it’d dull the moment you stood beside it, the moment his brain conjured up your image in lieu of polished gold. He’d put on his crisp, shiny-adorned uniform one last time for your wedding. You always said the fabric made him look so regal.

It wasn’t a surprise when the next morning you seemed gloomy. You tried to play it off, smiling when talking to someone before retreating back into yourself, and John could tell how much it hurt Simon. He trailed behind you like a kitten, watching from doorways to make sure the waterworks hadn’t started. When they did, he tugged you to the master bedroom and let you curl up into the blankets and sob. Simon rubbed your back, a silent yet strong barrier between you and loneliness.

You asked him what you should do—how could you keep loving a man who won’t treat you like a person? Who won’t see you as anything but a hole to fuck when he comes home before leaving again? He wasn’t soft like Simon, you said, and Simon felt conflicted.

He wasn’t soft. No one else got to see the affection he rarely used, felt his hands doing anything other than breaking and taking. He towered over men far weaker than him. He didn’t feel remorseful for the pain he caused to those who deserved it and maybe even the ones who didn’t. He made himself built for war, yet you cried into his lap and called him a softie.

Maybe he was—but only for you. You were just an exception.

He couldn’t tell if it was the conversation from the previous night or your red cheeks and puffy eyes that did it for him. He couldn’t bare letting you fall apart over an ugly motherfucker like your husband. He calmed you, pulling your limp body into his lap. His arms around you felt more like a strait jacket than a hug, but you took it readily. Your fingers gripped his shirt, and he truly realized the effect you had on him. Tilting your chin up, he hummed a soft apology before pressing his lips to yours, keeping his hand on your jaw.

Maybe, after that, it was a good thing the bedroom door was locked. Maybe it took a few days for you to completely move forward, legal papers signed and delivered at the little post office in town, 25 minutes from your cabin. Maybe Simon was there, his hands and lips unable to leave your skin for longer than a minute. Maybe, as he left with Laswell’s next instructions, he took you upstairs one last time and promised to be back later, when he was done—that he’d come back and take you to the courthouse that same evening, paying a stranger to watch you exchange vows if Johnny didn’t tag along like he figured he would, and you’d never feel lonely again.

Imagine your surprise when he showed up three months later and he kept his word—with a certain loud Scot in tow, too.

[rewrittenmha]

Battle Trials Arc

The start of this arc mostly goes the same. They try on their hero outfits and get ready for their first Heroics class with All Might. Of course, Inko made Izuku his suit (it's so ugly but she made it with love I had to leave it in). I'm keeping their suits the same in canon for now but rest assured, most of them will be getting major upgrades later. All Might announces the Battle Trials and teams are assigned.

First thing's first, I'm changing some of the teams.

Team A: Midoriya & Yaoyorozu - Hero Team B: Mineta & Todoroki - Hero Team C: Hagakure & Uraraka - Villain Team I: Ojiro & Shoji - Villain

Everyone else is staying the same! Hagakure and Uraraka are fighting Kaminari and Jiro and Izuku and Yaoyorozu are fighting Bakugou and Iida. Mineta and Todoroki are fighting Ojiro and Shoji. Look up the rest of the teams if you can't remember them because I'm too lazy to write them out.

Round 1: Team A vs Team D

Izuku is anxious for two reasons: one, he's fighting Bakugou and two, Yaoyorozu is intimidating as hell. He has no idea how to even approach working with her

Izuku suggests using himself as bait. Yaoyorozu isn't opposed to it, but she knows a) Izuku's quirk isn't fully functional, b) Bakugou has a bad temper with an explosive quirk, and c) Bakugou has some sort of weird vendetta against Izuku

The two get into a little bit of an argument. Izuku wants to face Bakugou head-on, but Yaoyorozu isn't interested in indulging what she interprets as a petty rivalry especially if the outcome is dangerous. But they're running out of time and they need to make a decision

There's a small heart to heart. Izuku briefly explains his past with Bakugou (he doesn't go into detail, but it's enough for Yaoyorozu- a virtual stranger- to be a little concerned). Yaoyorozu understands having to prove yourself- she's had to do it since she was a kid- so it makes her a little more receptive to his insistence

Yaoyorozu explains her quirk to Izuku (who's taking mental notes) and they come up with a plan. Izuku will use himself as bait, but with precaution. Yaoyorozu created little speakers with her quirk that she places around the building as she goes to secure the bomb from Iida. Those speakers are attached to a little microphone Izuku will be using to taunt Bakugou and lure him as far away from the bomb as possible. He'll have Bakugou cornered and attack him from behind while Yaoyorozu confronts Iida

The fight between Bakugou and Izuku goes about the same as it does in canon (so does their conversation). However, because of Yaoyorozu's fear of damage and injury, Izuku doesn't use Bakugou to blow up the ceiling. Instead, he continuously dodges Bakugou's attacks until Bakugou- careless of his surroundings- ends up destroying the surrounding wall so much that dust clouds his vision and Izuku punches him in the face. It's momentarily stunning, but it's not enough to stop Bakugou who's pissed. He's about to advance on Izuku again when-

All Might's voice announces that Team A wins. While Bakugou was fighting Izuku, Yaoyorozu confronted Iida with a staff. They began fighting and Iida was overpowering her, however, it was just a distraction. Momo dropped smoke bombs once she was close enough to the bomb, successfully securing it before Iida could recover. Izuku and Yaoyorozu win with a near flawless victory, minus Izuku's injuries

Bakugou is pissed. He's never lost before, least of all to Deku. He's going to make that nerd pay for looking down on him like he did

Iida is disappointed in himself. If he had paid more attention, he might have seen through Yaoyorozu's ruse

Round 2: Team B vs Team I

Todoroki goes into the fight overconfident. He tells Mineta go outside for his safety as he intends to dominate the fight

However, what he wasn't aware of was that Shoji heard him say this. With the knowledge that it was a two on one match, him and Ojiro devise a plan

Ojiro goes down to confront Todoroki immediately, who instantly freezes him in place. He yells to "Shoji" in the next corridor to run before the ice can catch him too. Todoroki spreads his ice in the direction that Ojiro yelled out

But Shoji wasn't there. He was with the bomb, guarding it while Shoto spent five minutes trying to find where Ojiro was. When he couldn't, he spread the ice to the entire building and entrapped him, just like he did in canon. He then easily secures the bomb

Team B won, but Todoroki is stunned that he was momentarily outsmarted. Still, his show of power took everyone by surprise, especially Bakugou who had never seen the raw power from anyone his age before

Round 3: Team C vs Team G

Uraraka and Hagakure are woefully unprepared for Kaminari and Jirou. Their plan is simple; Uraraka stays and guards the bomb while Hagakure goes and sneaks up on their opponents

It almost works. Hagakure is easily able to take out Jirou, but cannot dodge a blow from Kaminari. He takes her out with no issues and goes to confront Uraraka

Uraraka, who has almost no combat experience, loses almost immediately. Kaminari has so much more power than her he's almost taunting her. In an act of desperation, she floats the bomb and herself to the ceiling where Kaminari can't reach them. Kaminari can't reach the bomb. She keeps them both near the vents, so he has no chance of jumping up and securing either her or the bomb. He knocks her down with a shot at the last minute

Time runs out. Team C wins, just barely. It doesn't feel like a win for Uraraka, though. She was completely outmatched against Kaminari and only won because of the time. After seeing how powerful her classmates are, she feels like she's majorly behind. She doesn't want to be left behind. She thinks a lot about Izuku's fight, how he predicted Bakugou's attacks and used them against him.

(I'm not doing the rest because I'm focusing on main characters and what's changing for those characters. Izuku, Yaoyorozu, Iida, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Asui will be the characters focused on the most. I didn't describe Asui's battle because she really shows out at the USJ. I'd like to give all of 1A justice because they do deserve better, but I can't balance 20 characters at once. Forgive me if a lot of them fade into the background)

After he comes back from Recovery Girl, Izuku's classmates praise him like they did in canon. They tell him that his actions really inspired them. He is extremely embarrassed by it and bashfully points out that it was Yaoyorozu's plan that got him the win. Yaoyorozu is surprised, but pleased by this. Uraraka comes in and compliments him on what he did, as she's also very inspired. He thanks her, but asks where Bakugou is.

Izuku runs out to stop Bakugou before he can leave. He feels unbelievably guilty, but he doesn't know why. The fact that Bakugou seemed to upset gnaws at him, like he did something terrible by not telling him about OFA.

But another part of him doesn't understand that. It's not like he always had OFA and was intentionally hiding it. And even if he was, why would Bakugou even care? He made it quite clear a long time ago that they weren't friends so why-

Izuku, feeling guilty, is about to reveal his secret. He's about to tell Bakugou that he inherited his quirk. He almost says it.

1A watches from the window. Asui, Ashido, and Uraraka look on in concern, worried that Bakugou will lash out. But Iida and Yaoyorozu watch carefully from their seats out of the corner of their eyes; Iida because he's ready to intervene if things get violent, but Yaoyorozu for a completely different reason.

But All Might comes out seemingly out of nowhere. He's ecstatic to see them, complimenting them both of their performance. He gentle critiques them, but stresses their heroic attributes. Bakugou, angry and humiliated by his failure, tells him off and proclaims that he'll surpass him. He stomps off, leaving Izuku and All Might alone.

Izuku guiltily admits that he almost gave away the secret and apologizes. All Might flails for a moment, but composes himself and assures him that he understands. There were moments he wanted to tell friends to (specifically talking about David Shield), but had to refrain for their safety and his own. He stresses that Izuku cannot tell anyone he doesn't trust 100%, who he knows will have his back in his toughest moments.

Izuku takes this to heart.

But unknown to him, All Might's timing wasn't random. Toshinori had been surprised when Yaoyorozu came to him with her concerns. She had admitted that Izuku didn't outright confess anything actually wrong, but was insistent that Bakugou's actions during the Battle Trials shouldn't be taken lightly.

Toshinori decides to keep a more careful eye on how Bakugou and Izuku interact.

Notes:

Rewatching season 1 hits different. The characterization was so much better. Unpopular opinion, but season 1 Bakugou is a lot less annoying to me. One thing he did was reflect and actually own up to what he did wrong and took accountability for the loss, which s3-current Bakugou just... doesn't do. This feels so fucking bizarre to say, but I can actually sympathize with him a little bit more (just a tiny bit). He's still a violent POS who whines a lot, but he's not as irritating

You can really see early on how much 1A prefers Izuku over Bakugou. And how could they not? Bakugou was immediately mean to them and Izuku "stood up" to him. Of course they admired him. Horikoshi should have kept this going

Momo is going to be a bit different. Still kind and compassionate, but more reserved and logical like she was in the early arcs. Her relationship with Izuku will be... interesting. They're low-key rivals too, but more in a "they're both so smart but two completely different kinds of smart so they butt heads" way. They also become best frenemies because I said so

Speaking of Momo, her going to All Might was her being a good chap. I can see early Momo being completely uncomfortable with Bakugou's behavior and concerned with him potentially hurting Izuku or anyone else (she unknowingly just saved Izuku's character arc, all hail Queen Momo). Horikoshi made her so docile against Bakugou when early Momo was completely unapologetic in her dressing down of him

Todoroki's round wasn't meant to disparage his power or skill. It was to a) show off Shoji a little more because his quirk is underrated and b) to show that even though he's hella powerful, he isn't perfect and has weaknesses. I also did this to show that UA is supposed to be the best hero school in the world. The majority of its students are going to be at least competent. The ones at the "bottom" right now are Jiro, Aoyama, Hagakure, Mineta, and Uraraka (no particular order)

Uraraka's underdog story is something I'm very excited to write

[sadesluvr]

Parting Gift

You love Mike, but he's jaded.

Mike Schmidt x GN! Reader

A/N: Something for my FNAF fans! I’ve been watching too much HBO and wanted to write angst, so this fic features a realistic Mike Schmidt. This features hints of Vanessa x Mike, but also his emotional problems in general. We love him, but I don’t think its controversial to say that being in a relationship with him would be difficult... 

Please read my other Mike works if this isn’t your kind of thing! 

Set post movie. 

Word count: 1.6K 

Tags: ANGST / SMUT / Gender Neutral Reader / Reader is human as has weird emotions / Breakups / Hints of jealousy + rage / Hints of fluff / Bittersweet stuff, really 

You never went inside. 

As a detective, you weren’t oblivious to the irony of it all. You’d been to hospitals thousands of times; speaking to suspects, injured colleagues or even to address the dreaded ‘call’, and yet the thought of watching Mike and Abby leave handmade cards at Vanessa “Shelly’s” bedside made you violently ill.  

You knew everything that had gone down at the defunct Freddy Fazbear’s, and it had plagued you to no end. Though Abby and Mike’s relationship had certainly turned for the better, you were angry, frustrated at the fact that he’d been hurt, not only from being physically punted across the room, but the fact he’d had to stare his brother’s killer in the eye, virtually powerless to it all. Even more so, you were pissed that Vanessa had become a factor in your lives. 

You’d only been dating Mike for just under a year, meeting him in a rather cliched manner at a donut stand in the mall. An exchange of numbers turned into casual check-ins, which soon evolved into a relationship – or at least parts of one. It was no secret that Mike was guarded; letting you in, but not too close enough to get overly attached. At first, it felt like you were made for each other – you felt a similar way about you line of work, and how you operated with people because of it – but closer towards those crucial few months of the new year it had begun to grow tedious. 

You weren’t expecting a whirlwind, all-consuming romance, but it certainly wasn’t supposed to feel like this; with days of missed calls, unexplained outbursts and erectile dysfunction making being with him feel like a chore. Some days, you wondered why you’d even bothered asking for his number. Most days, you wondered why he’d responded at all. 

Deep down, you knew none of this was his fault. He'd been fighting to survive since he was a teenager, and it was only inevitable that he’d develop issues. Being a detective meant you were all the more receptive to them, understanding the nuances of why people became the way that they were, and it was painfully clear to you why Mike had changed since the incident. 

He and Vanessa were both conjoined, victims of William Afton in their own ways, yet both bound by blood. You’d been there when he’d stopped on the way home to visit her, listening from the outside as you supervised Abby. Why couldn’t you all go in? It wasn’t as if it were a particularly gory scene; it merely looked like she was sleeping. Why had he made you all wait? 

“Vanessa, I don’t know if… you can hear any of this, but, um… I’m having a hard time just processing everything that happened. 

But you were there for me and Abby when it mattered the most. 

And I don’t think that either of us would be here today if it weren’t for you. 

So… So get better. And we’ll be here when you wake up.” 

The words were as clear as day. Hadn’t you been there for them? Tried to give Abby a sense of a stable life? Tried to help with bills? Offering to send him to counselling? Why had it taken a near fatal murder attempt for Mike to wake up? 

Now, with all the fallout, you were all left with far more questions than answers…and this time you didn’t have the energy to try and solve them. 

“Abby’s sleeping,” you announced, poking your head through the door. Mike was rummaging around his room, trying to prepare himself for work in the morning – a menial task for some, but strangely methodical to him in the moment. He didn’t answer. 

“Abby’s sleeping,” you repeated, and he perked up, a flustered smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  

“Oh...” he said, clearing his throat. “Thanks. I guess I lost track of time…” 

“Yeah.” you mumbled, leaning against the doorframe, clearly waiting for something…you just didn’t know what. 

“Thanks —“ he said after a moment of silence, his soft brown eyes gazing into your own. You could see him nervously gnawing on the inside of of his cheek. “—For helping. I really do appreciate it. I’m not trying to seem like a douche, there’s just been a lot on my mind recently.” 

“I’m not surprised,” you hummed, strolling into the room. “But it’s been bugging you for a while now. Don’t you want to…you know…talk to someone?” 

Mike paused and cocked his head. 

“Like a therapist?” 

“That would be a good option,” you hummed, trying not to dance around the subject. “Or you can speak to me. I won’t even psychoanalyse you, I could just listen, y’know?” 

He bit his lip again, this time glancing down at the floor before back at you. You couldn’t quite make out what he was thinking, but he was certainly showing signs of restraint. Restraint. It seemed to be the defining word in your relationship.  

“…I don��t think you’d understand.” 

“Oh, but Vanessa would, right?” 

He flinched at your raised voice, and glanced nervously down the hall. 

“That’s not what I meant —“ 

“Then what do you mean, Mike?” you huffed, crossing your arms. “You met her a month ago, whilst I’ve known you for a year! You’ve never once given me as much grace as you have her. Ever!” 

“I had a lot on my plate, okay? It wasn’t easy.” 

“I know that! But I was there for you. I watched you pick up those prescriptions, I tried to be a role model to Abby, to help take the load off all those payments, and I got nothing!” you yelled. “I wasn’t asking for a mile, but you didn’t even give me an inch.” 

Mike didn’t respond, instead he ran a hand through his hair, pushing the stray strands away from his face before he rubbed his eyes. 

“How is it that you can mend every relationship you have except the one you willingly chose to be in?” You said, voice wavering as you watched him sink into the bed. It was his natural response; life was crushing and had done so many times, but his lack of fight was extremely telling. He could stand off with a serial killer and haunted animatronics, but not muster a few words to  reassure his partner? 

He was just too complicated for you to understand. 

“I’m sorry…” he mumbled, shaking his head absentmindedly before looking up at you. “Maybe I didn’t think this through…” 

You knew what that meant, and even though you’d been anticipating it – even manifesting it yourself – it didn’t make the blow any easier. Sighing, you steadied your week knees by sitting on the bed next to Mike, grasping at the bedsheets as you stared blankly around the room. For once, it felt like you were both in the same page. 

“I love you,” he said, breaking the tension. You glanced at him, taking in the fact that his eyes were welling with tears and jaw clenched, and you could tell that he meant it. “I really did, y’know? I tried.” 

You nodded, rubbing at your cheeks anxiously before kissing him. His lips were slightly chapped, but you didn’t mind, losing yourself in the way he drew you into his body with you hands, clinging onto you as he made a desperate plea to attempt to reach out to you for a final time.  

Before you knew it, you back was against the mattress, and Mike was on-top of you, hurriedly pulling down his sweatpants before doing the same to you. As your lower torso lay exposed, he pressed a kiss to your stomach, making his way around your belly button and down towards your privates. Shutting your eyes, you wondered what your relationship could’ve been if every time felt like this; electric and passionate…with intent. 

Once he’d slipped his boxers to the side, you gave his erect cock a few languid strokes before inserting him into you, letting out a broken moan as he adjusted to being inside of you. Mike’s eyes fluttered shut as he sighed, and you remembered just how beautiful he looked in his (rare) moments of bliss.  

He stabilised himself on his forearms as he watched you, rolling his hips as he explored your hole, searching for that all-important sweet spot. The room may have been dimly lit; the darkness of night encroaching upon the walls, but he could see you all too clearly. It pained him that he hadn’t before – no, he had, but he didn’t know how to express it – and wondered just how much different things would’ve been had he not met Vanessa, hell, had he not attacked that man that fateful day. He knew some things had changed for the better, some for the worst, and some that only time would tell – and he had a sneaking suspicion that you fell into the latter. 

His mind was hell, but it felt like heaven to be inside you.  

Leaning down, he placed a sloppy kiss to your lips before moving to your neck, groaning as you ran your fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. 

“Mike...” you moaned. “You’re so good to me...” 

‘For me’ was left unuttered.  

“Please...” you begged; your words almost inaudible over the creaking of his bedframe, and his heavy thighs slapping against your own as he rutted into you. “Cum for me. I need it...” 

Mike nodded, damp strands of his fringe glued to his forehead as he pushed into you a final time, his legs trembling as he came. It was unfathomable that in the heat of his pleasure – the best orgasm you’d had together – he wanted to cry. Breathlessly, you held him as he rode off his high, so tightly that you thought you might’ve pierced his skin, before you spoke your final words into the night. 

“I love you too...” you whispered. “I’m sorry...for everything.” 

You were gone before sunrise.