celebrate life and part

Empty Houses

An “empty house” is a house where no planets or luminaries are present. It can indicate a part of your life that isn’t as celebrated as other areas of life. Interpreting empty houses is always best done when looking at one’s entire chart. For example, an empty 9th house could indicate someone who may feeling disconnected from their spirituality, but extremely strong Sagittarius or Jupiter influence in their chart could change this interpretation. Everyone has at least a few empty houses, so they won’t manifest in a negative fashion for everyone.

In general, I prefer to interpret empty houses as the following:

  • An empty first house can indicate a lack of personality or confidence. Their identities are not always set in stone and are prone to being confusing. They have more trouble than others finding their place in the world. 
  • An empty second house can indicate a lack of interest in material objects. They don’t allow their possessions to determine their life. They are prone to having difficulties with stability. It’s common that this instability is related to their most prized possessions. 
  • An empty third house can indicate difficulties with learning and communicating. They are often people who enjoy being alone and would rather use modern ways of communicating. They are prone to having nervous feelings in social arrangements. 
  • An empty fourth house can indicate a detached relationship with families or someone with little feelings of being “at home.” They are prone to having issues or detached feelings as a child. They may feel that their parents are more over-protective than other parents. 
  • An empty fifth house can indicate someone who doesn’t focus much on children and procreation. They get bored easily and tend to only have a few major interests. They don’t believe that the ultimate life goal is to procreate. They don’t always hold sex to a high importance and may indulge in casual sex. 
  • An empty sixth house can indicate a person who relies on others perhaps more than they should. They are prone to illness and likely won’t have a career that is service-based.
  • An empty seventh house can indicate a person who has a lack of interest in relationships. They don’t allow their relationships to determine their life, and they are prone to have trouble compromising.
  • An empty eighth house can indicate a person who takes many dangerous risks. Their life may not change much and they are prone to having trouble allowing others into their life.
  • An empty ninth house can indicate issues or detached feelings with spirituality and beliefs in higher beings. They are prone to feeling tied to their childhood and may dislike change.
  • An empty tenth house can indicate someone who has seen many ups and downs with their reputation. They have trouble staying organized and may find that their careers don’t seem to “fit” them.
  • An empty eleventh house can indicate someone who has difficulties with maintaining many friendships. They tend to only have a few very close friends. They are prone to being practical people with few ideas about the future.
  • An empty twelfth house can indicate difficulties addressing stress or deep fears. They are prone to keeping things in the open and have a hard time keeping secrets. They often feel more pressure than others.

For specific interpretations of your empty houses, ask a trusted astrologer :)


➳  Happy 20th anniversary Inuyasha !

On November 13, 1996, the first chapter of the manga series Inuyasha was published in Japan’s Shonen Sunday magazine. Thank you Rumiko Takahashi for giving us such a beautiful series and tons of characters that we adore! Inuyasha had a big impact on a lot of people’s childhoods and a lot of us are still obsessed with the series. Thank you ♥

anonymous asked:

Yo, do you think there was anything significant behind the beach posts?? (Phil's tweet and Dan's aesthetic) It's fine if you don't think so, I'm just curious

i’m mostly just yelling (silently. bc i’m at work) that dan went and posted an insta using the exact same phrasing as phils tweet as if to eliminate literally all doubt in anyone’s mind that they’re walking by the sea together. seems these birthday celebrations are also being used as a means of telling us in a more pointed way than usual that they’re sharing these experiences together. and they’re not trying to hide it any way. or dilute it. or make it sound like anything less than it is. once again, major progression. i’m emotional.

I just don’t get why….

Everyone’s like rooting for Meredith and happy for her for working on moving on with her life with Riggs.

But then at the same time everyone’s like so pissed that Arizona’s trying to do the same thing.

Derek’s gone. Meredith should move on.
Callie’s gone. Arizona should move on.

Moving on and living life is part of life!! So celebrate it for both people!

I get Derek died and Callie didn’t. But Callie literally tore Arizona apart (after single handedly deciding to try and take their daughter across the country with no regard for how Arizona felt about it, btw), and took off with her latest girlfriend. So like….there’s no reason why Arizona shouldn’t be allowed to move on with her life.

Will she always have love for Callie? No doubt. But Callie’s not there. And she sure as hell didn’t take a second glance back when deciding to move to New York, so why should Arizona stand around and wait for her to MAYBE come back?

Like no…..that’s stupid. She’s with Minnick. She’s happy. She’s smiling. And their relationship seems a hell of a lot more healthy than Calzona did at their end.

So either get on board or get over it. Unless Sara Ramirez decides to come back, Calzona is done. There’s no “Calzona will rise”, especially if she never comes back to the show. And if and when she does…they would have a hell of a lot of work to do to get back to a healthy place to even begin a relationship again.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

things we could do in female only community!

  • walk outside at night without the risk of assault or rape
  • walk around topless during summer, without ever being accused of asking for rape, shamed, innapropriately stared at or filmed without our consent
  • kiss other women in public
  • hold hands and cuddle with women in public
  • talk as much and as loudly as we want to, speak our mind constantly without ever being silenced or shamed for having the nerve to yell our minds out
  • never ever be called slurs again
  • be completely unseflconscious about our bodies, not waste a second worried about our appearance and instead giving full attention to fulfilling our lives
  • engage in community that we are an equal part of
  • create our own holidays and celebrations of life that we bring to earth
  • ditch male last names and start our own family names, passing them on to future generations and creating female legacy
  • pass our knowledge and land to females with complete freedom to form the world they want to live in
31 Days - Part 5

Originally posted by toughchim

Table of Contents: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Epilogue

Genre: angst, fluff 

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader 

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You come to Korea to visit your family after you graduate from college. Soon, you find yourself falling for a guy you meet online. There’s only one problem—you’re only in the country for thirty-one days.

You couldn’t believe this. Tae was an idol after all this time. You didn’t know whether to be hurt or angry. It was hard to believe that you hung out like this and you knew nothing. You hung out several times and he’d kissed you. He wasn’t exactly your boyfriend but it was still unreal. Was he ever going to say anything? Was he even your friend? Could you even consider him a friend after this?

Keep reading



October 9, 1940 - ∞

John Lennon. The legend. The artist. The Beatle. The songwriter. The Liverpudlian. The profound thinker. The rebel. The activist. The peacemaker. The bad boy. The comedian. The lover. The fighter. The husband. The father. The rock ‘n’ roller. The walrus. The eggman. The bagist. The working-class hero. The imaginer. The dreamer. The jealous guy. The modern martyr of peace. Anything and everything that made up his incredible existence. 77 years ago, when he was born into a rain of bomb-fire in the poor working-class city of Liverpool in the wee morning hours of October 9, 1940, it was already written in the stars that he was going to send the world spinning on its axis, for better or for worse. No doubt, from day one, John knew that he was marching to the beat of his own drum in life and he made sure he ran with it. He lead a revolution in his own right and even write, voicing truth on peace, love, feminism, political ideals, and humankind, forever inspiring past and future generations of free thinkers to speak their minds all while teaching us the importance of using your artistic abilities and fame to better humanity and bring light to injustice in our world. In all, I think one of the most important words that describe John Lennon that was not previously mentioned or maybe has never even been mentioned is “hero”. He taught us that you can become your own hero when life pushes you down and there’s no one there to be the hero for you. He wanted to save himself and the world from its ways through song and though he could not deliver everyone from oblivion, he saved those who were truly willing to listen. Though he’s most certainly not everyone’s hero, he is definitely mine. Whether he’s carrying you through those sad parts of life or he’s there celebrating the good times with you, he’s always and forever a beacon of light that shines on and saves to get us through the storm of reality. As a wise and beautiful Beatle once sang about John: “You had control of our smiles and our tears, all those years ago.” Those words still ring true today. Happy Birthday, John. Thank-you for all the wisdom and memories. 💖💖💖💖   

I do not talk to everyone. I’m not introvert or anti-social, it’s just that I don’t trust easily and I choose people carefully who will know my story. It’s everyone’s right to choose who will be part of their life. I’m not a celebrity to open my life to the public. I’m just like the moon, you can judge me, be friends and become special to you, but I’ll always have this side that you’ll never know. My personal private side. I’m friendly in my own way.
—  baekebyan

anonymous asked:

That was such a lovely and thoughtfully written post about how Camren transcends sexualization. It's about hope, love and inclusion for so many. For fans to even fathom, let alone ship, two female pop stars falling in love and for that to be as natural as breathing and not stigmatized was beautiful in theory. Completely agree when it crosses lines it's not cool or fair. But that's missing the forest for the trees. So many sweet fans just craved representation and saw pieces of themselves.

Yes, to some people, I guess Camren is a symbol of special friendship and love and inspiration. They both are role models to a young generation, and they both seem genuine and deep and smart, and the idea of them being together and representing a community who is thirsty for a tangible representation, I could really understand the clamor for Camren.

BUT, I also get Lauren when she says it’s invasive and scary… and I also get what she must feel when people sexualize her. because while I’ve only seen a fraction of what those Twitter/IG stans write to their social media, I can only imagine Lauren or Camila dealing with that on a daily basis. And it’s really tiring to see. Even I, a CS, can say that. I really feel bad for Lauren or Camila to be dealing with that bullshit. It’s enough to make a person lose their temper.

BUT, ALSO, reality is, there will always be shipping and sexualization and romanticizing of everything – it’s part of a celebrity life, even general public life. It’s a commodity, it’s capitalism, it’s human instinct. I get what Lauren is trying to say, it would be IDEAL to focus on the relevant issues: love and feminism and other social issues.

But REALITY is, people are mostly visual beings. They will zoom in on what’s appealing to the eyes before even considering the philosophical angle of life. Some people would just automatically see something pretty, and SAY IT’S PRETTY. Even in art or literature, our eyes will see the beauty of it first, then we process what that work of art really means. Unfortunately, not everyone has a higher consciousness. Not everyone will go beyond the level of appreciating the visual aspect of a person and dig deeper.

That’s why, while I highly respect Lauren for her mind and her passion to be a voice in spreading awareness, she should also consider that not everything is black and white. Not everyone will wanna listen to what she has to say, not everyone is self-aware. Some people will simply settle for admiring her beauty. It’s reality. The challenge for her lies on HOW she will turn that around. How she could make her voice heard DESPITE the reality that some people will be deaf to the relevant issues in life.

Once she realizes that just because she thinks that something is unfair or that some things shouldn’t be talked about or focused on, it doesn’t mean that the media will stop as well. Then maybe she could think of ways to get her message across. In a non-angry way.

I know she will eventually come to that point of realization. I just hope that she wouldn’t be burnt out when the time comes. She will be a relevant voice if she overcomes her natural instinct to lash out.

Hi, this is a reminder that it’s valid to feel upset over things that are none of your business. It’s okay if you get caught up in the drama, of events outside of Harry’s music and performances. It’s sometimes simply what happens, whatever drama enters the scope of your dash, and it’s totally cool if you have an emotional reaction to it. It’s sort of natural, really.

What does matter, and what can be either justified or unjustified, is your response, especially if it’s a written post on the Internet. It’s okay to remind yourself that while your feelings are valid, some parts of a celebrity’s life (aka most parts) are none of our business. And if you want to post about them, that’s inherently okay, but whatever emotion surrounding your post can either add kindness or negativity into the world. Keep that in mind, and decide which one you’d rather do.

Even if you aren’t feeling particularly kind, which is valid and okay, let’s try and find the happiness wherever we can. Take a step back from Tumblr, sometimes, and acknowledge how you feel, and why you may feel upset about whatever it is. 

Just take care of yourself, lovelies, and try to treat people with kindness. It’s said a lot around these parts of the Internet, and I firmly believe many of us live up to it already, but sometimes it’s crucial to read it as if it’s the first time. Let it be impactful, acknowledge it’s a hard thing to do.

deactivated-shamrockwitch  asked:

hello!! i wanted to ask you something, if you don't mind ☺️ so i'm a baby witch and this will be my first beltane and i've been looking up information but i don't really get it(??? and all i find is very wiccan (i'm not) and what i'm trying to ask you if you could tell me about it from a non-wiccan perspective or give me more neutral information or something. thank you so much!!! have a great day! 🍀

It’s going to be my first Beltane too! I have tons of things saved that I would love to share with you.

If you take a look at the wheel of the year, Beltane is opposite of Samhain. Both serve as midpoints between the cycle of life and death. It is also believed that during these times, the veil separating our world is the thinnest. Unlike Samhain, Beltane is a celebration of life and all its wonders. In some parts of the world, it is sometimes called May Day since takes place on the first day of May.

There’s tons of things you can do for your upcoming celebration such as dancing, constructing a May Pole, baking, eating fruits, taking a walk in nature, decorating your altar (if you have one), and making a bonfire.

Here’s some good posts with activities and information about Beltane:

I hope that this helps! Feel free to reach out if you have any more questions! I’d love to hear how your Beltane goes, darling! Best of luck! 💕


jaktober #19: ‘parents’ + #6 ‘death’

I was thinking of what to do for the ‘parents’ prompt because I already draw dadmas all the time and I remembered this little scene between Dax and Seem at the Spargan life/death festival; this particular part of the celebration is dedicated to remembering and honouring the fallen, and Dax remembers his mother (she died when he was a little kid, before he moved to Sandover). I’d never drawn either of his parents before so I doodled up a little design for her, harvesting some fruit while lil Dax ‘‘‘helps’’’.

keeping with the ‘loss’ theme, I also did an AU version of Praxis’s death with Ashelin present; even though Ashe was working with the resistance and understood that her father had done some terrible things, she still loved him as her only family and his death hit her pretty hard.

and then I was thinking about how Rayn might have learned of Krew’s death; considering how chaotic things were in Haven towards the end of renegade and all through 3, I imagine there was a significant delay before she finally got the news (probably over a year during which she had no idea what might have happened).

anonymous asked:

Don't keep giving him false hope. Life sucks but we need to celebrate the good parts and be there for the bad. Don't tell him it'll be okay tell him you'll be there when it isn't okay. I know i will!

Biscuit took that the wrong way-

anonymous asked:

i wanna believe we're free to practice witchcraft. i want to. but we're not. idk what you're doing. we can't have sex with people we're not married to, we can't party, we can't swear, we can't practice craft. it breaks my heart, but my mom says it's just breaking the sinful part that christ meant to save us from. i'm working on choking out that part of myself. you should, too. save yourself and go back to our god.

Hey friend. I understand where you’re coming from; I really do. Because honestly, I’ve been there. I tried doing that. I tried being the perfect Evangelical child. I tried so hard and even wound up with a Biblical Studies degree from a high ranking evangelical university. I served others to the point of seriously damaging my own well being. I know Koine Greek well enough to extrapolate various biblical arguments and analyze them and the accuracy of interpretation.

I tried so hard to save myself in order to be God’s Perfect Daughter and do you know what it felt like? Personality prison.

My sister and her husband once hid the fact that they celebrated the New Year with a glass of wine from my parents because for a while my mom wasn’t sure that Christians should drink alcohol. I hid my own sexuality from myself for years. I hid my anger, my frustrations, my questions. Following all the right rules didn’t make me a better Christian, it made me a sneakier one. And it loaded me with guilt and shame because anytime I thought I messed up I assumed God was just…frustrated by how horrible I was. I couldn’t stand how unbiblical I was, why would God even bother with me? It didn’t help that I’d developed anxiety and depression from the age of 16 and didn’t get help because no, I was too good, too kind and caring, I got good grades, I looked good.

That supposed salvation condemned me to hide myself from myself. And when I got angry about things like child abuse and racism and homophobia in the church, my mom basically told me that I’m reading too many negative things about the church and that I need to be more involved with the good churches that aren’t like those other bad ones because Not All Christians are like that.

Do you know what choking yourself of these things does? It hurts you. It keeps you from breathing. If your salvation comes at the cost of enjoying your life and yourself, what is it worth? I tried so hard to choke all those parts of me and it eventually broke me. It put a wedge between me and my family, between me and God.

Strangely enough, it was discovering ritualistic faith/Christian witchcraft that began to mend the bond between me and God. The day I decided to explore it, I had a dream where I watched Jesus come to life out of stone. It renewed my faith, my desire to know God as She truly is, not just as what I was told to believe.

You tell me I should save myself, but Jesus already did. And I use my craft to connect to God, to pray to Her, to love others and myself. I use it as a form of worship. I don’t need to try to be anyone but myself to be saved, to be free.

Maybe it will be different for you. I hope so. I hope you are able to live authentically to yourself within the church. But for me, Christian witchcraft brought me back to God. Leaving evangelicalism was a healthy and necessary choice for me. I found freedom and laughter. I don’t drink, I don’t smoke. I have a fiancé, soon to be my wife. (And for some people I’m already going to hell for that lol. If I'a already going to hell, I’m gonna go with a lot of love in my heart for myself and others and be true to myself.) I have friends who encourage me and listen to me and don’t just say “I’ll pray for you.” They let me talk about my feelings and beliefs, even if they don’t agree with me on some of them.

If God is love, shouldn’t that love be freeing rather than confining? If God is love, then why do people insist that love means changing who you are in order for God to love you, in order to be worthy? If God is love, why does that mean that it’s God’s way or eternal suffering, that God is always right and we are always wrong? Is that truly love? If your God was your significant other or parental figure, would it be called love, or would it show signs of abuse? If God is love, why do I feel so miserable following every letter of the Bible, every ideal of the Perfect Christian?

I hope you have a better experience than me. But for me, this is what freedom looks like. I light a votive candle and burn a sigil asking God to help me love myself. I use the herbs of the earth God has made for us to celebrate life, petition them and God to aid me. I get to take part in the act of creation.

And if I am wrong, I am wrong. But I do not believe that living authentically and enjoying yourself is contrary to the love of God. I am human. I am flawed. And I love that.

Sorry for writing such a long response. If you read this whole thing, good on you! I wish you the very best, but I am afraid I cannot return to what once damaged my spirit. I pray that your relationship with God only deepens and allows you to be true to yourself. Take care, friend.

Stutter Shook and Uptight Chapter One

Here you go, @obeydontstray and anon who gave me the prompts.

Hawkins, Indiana


“Jesus, those two fight loud. Wish they’d keep it in their own house instead of my parking lot.”

“Want me to bust ‘em?”

“Nah, leave Joyce alone. She’s got enough troubles as is.”

Jim Hopper gazed blearily over his shoulder and through one of the wide windows of Benny’s Burgers, taking in the proceedings in the parking lot with dull, unfocused senses. Lonnie Byers was screaming down at his wife, Joyce Byers née Calloway. If he hadn’t been three sheets to the wind, the sight would have stirred something akin to protectiveness within him. He had always had a soft spot for Joyce, even after she had dumped him for the garbage weasel she now called a husband.

“I’m off-duty any -” he gave a mighty belch. “-anyhow. Where are the boys? They shouldn’t have to see this.”

“Lonnie’s mom’s house. It’s date night, or post-therapy dinner, if you believe the rumors. Don’t seem like it’s workin’ too good.”

“Well,” Jim corrected.

“You sound like Joyce in high school. Little school marm. It’s a shame what being married to him s’done. She was smart as fuck. I owe all my C pluses to her.”

“Book smart people ain’t got a lick of common sense, Benny,” Jim mumbled. He took a long pull from his bottle of Schlitz as he recalled Joyce pulling him out of some academic rough patches back in the day. “And she’s probably still sharp as a tack.”

As if on cue, Joyce landed an open-palmed slap to one of Lonnie’s bearded cheeks. Benny whistled low at the sight and dropped his towel onto the counter before heading to the front door. “You sit tight, Johnny Law, I’ll take care of this.”

Jim turned the stool so that he could observe the fracas, leaning his back against the edge of the counter in order to anchor his large, unstable frame to the seat. Benny stalked out into the parking lot, arms out and palms up, speaking too low for Jim to properly discern. Something about a place of business. A bit about Lonnie going home to cool off and Benny giving Joyce a ride home in a few hours.

“It’s my car, Benny! He’s just going to drive off to see his whore!” Joyce protested, loud and clear for those listening in. Lonnie stepped forward and raised one hand, ready to descend it against the side of Joyce’s head. Benny grabbed the man by the offending arm and pushed him backwards. Lonnie stumbled, but regained his footing.

“You can walk, man; give me the fucking keys and get off my property!” Benny bellowed, his calm demeanor vanishing and giving way to hunched shoulders and clenched fists. He had at least five inches of height and 50 pounds on Lonnie, a fact that was not lost on the smaller man as he blanched, took a few steps back, and pointed a trembling finger towards Joyce, who immediately fished into her coat pocket and shoved the keys into Benny’s large, meaty right hand. Lonnie immediately turned on his heel and stalked off.

Jim straightened his posture when Benny led Joyce into the diner. Her tiny frame was rigid, her lips pressed into a severe line as her large, dark eyes darted about, taking in her surroundings. Her normally pale cheeks were was blotched with angry crimson.

“Easy, Joycie, easy,” Benny murmured, leading her to a booth. Jim left his stool and approached the both of them, trying to pull his face into an expression of sympathy.

“Hey, Calloway,” he greeted softly.

“Shut up, Hop. I bet you loved seeing that,” she snapped as she covered her face with her hands and exhaled.

Benny slid into the booth next to her a placed a hand on her shoulder. “That’s not fair, kiddo; everyone is sorrier than hell about you and Lonnie’s troubles.”

Joyce shrugged his hand away and shook her head. “What a lie. Everyone thinks I’m insane, and that poor Lonnie is better off without me.”

Jim scoffed and sat across from Joyce and Benny. “Bullshit. That weasel-faced fucker should have been thanking his lucky stars every single day you decided to put up with his crap.”

Joyce lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at Jim, her lips pursed ever-so-slightly as though contemplating his words and finding them utterly baffling. Jim did not tear his eyes away from her skeptical face, and they both studied each other wordlessly, before Benny cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence that hung over the booth.

“How about a burger on the house, Joyce? Maybe a strawberry malt and some fries to go with it?”

Joyce shook her head and patted Benny on the arm. “I’ll pay for a big plate of chili fries, because I’m not a charity case, but I will take a beer from Hop’s cooler, unless you have something stronger. But just one drink, I have to go pick the boys up from Agatha’s house.”

Jim had been keeping a bottle of whiskey stored in Benny’s kitchen ever since he moved back to Hawkins after his divorce. It had not taken long for him to realize that his old friend was a reliable and sympathetic ear, and a trip to the diner was a three times a week occurrence, sometimes more, depending on how much the prospect of an empty trailer terrified him – sometimes less, if he managed to find a pretty companion at the bar.

“Here, you only need about this much,” Jim intoned softly as he carefully poured a shot’s worth of whiskey into a plastic soda pop cup. “It’s not for throwing back either; sip it nice and slow.” He placed a glass of water in front of her as well. “This is to balance it out so you can get those boys home safely.” Funny, he never allowed himself the same courtesy while getting hammered. Water was for the weak, and for distraught mothers who needed to vent, but also needed to pick their kids up from the in-laws.

“You’re a god among men, Sparky,” Joyce quipped before bring the cup to her lips. He blushed at the old nickname, it was one he hated actually.

Why do you keep calling me that? He had asked her, years ago, while following her and Karen Bianchi (now Wheeler) down the hallways of Hawkins High. He had been carrying his books and hers (and Karen’s) that day. The girls exchanged glances and giggled. Later, he would find out that he had gained the moniker when Karen had compared him to a loyal dog following his mistress. Joyce had joked that she had always wanted a dog named Sparky. The revelation had stung, and he took out his retribution via a date with Chrissy Carpenter that ended in the backseat of his dad’s car.

How do you like your ‘Sparky’ now? He had regrettably jeered at her when she found out during lunch period the next day. His resolve had crumbled when he saw the tears shining in her eyes. He crumbled shortly after, when his shin took the business end of her foot. It ended his football career for the season, but the two of them reunited for a brief and intense moment before Vietnam and Lonnie Byers came into the picture.

“I’ve always hated that name, Calloway.”

Joyce shrugged. “And I haven’t been Joyce Calloway for a really, really long time.”

Benny chuckled and leaned against the wall so he could see both Joyce and Jim from his vantage point in the booth. “You’ll always be Joyce Calloway to us. Feistiest little sonofabitch to ever come out of Hawkins.”

Another shrug. Joyce turned to Benny rested her left elbow on the table, and her cheek against her right palm. She exhaled softly, puffing out her bottom lip in what might have been a pout on a younger, more petulant woman. On Joyce, it was as natural a sign of resignation as the slouch in her too thin shoulders. Her large, amber eyes shined curiously, but no tears escaped their tired vicinity. “But I never came out of Hawkins. I’m still here, and I don’t have any fight left in me.”

Jim was at war with himself. Here was the woman who had broken his teenaged heart right before he shipped off to the second most harrowing experience of his life. Here was incontrovertible proof that her life had been made a misery by her choice to leave him. A small, petty part of him wanted to cheer, and he might have done if life hadn’t likewise destroyed his ability to celebrate anything - there was another part of him, a much larger part of him, that wanted to take her into his arms and just hold her for a twenty minutes without speaking. A gesture of solidarity to let her know that she wasn’t the only person twisted by the winds of change. He stared at her for a long while, searching his brain for the right thing to say - Benny seemed similarly flummoxed, and excused himself from the conversation so he could prepare Joyce her meal.

“Then you should sleep. Time to build up that strength I know you still have in droves,” Jim finally announced. Joyce gave him a perplexed look. “Call Agatha and tell her you’ll pick up the boys in the morning. I’m gonna take you back to my place and let you get some goddamn peace and quiet.”

Joyce’s eyes widened as she shot out of her seat. “Now, look here, Hop–”

“To sleep. I mean it. No funny business, whatsoever. You want to give Lonnie time to cool down before going back into that house, and you don’t want the boys to witness another blowout, am I right?”

Joyce sat and nodded slowly. “I guess.”

“I promise it will be innocent. I’ll sleep on the couch. You have nothing to worry about on that account, darlin’. That ship has sailed.” Jim felt a curious twist in his gut. It was the same breathless feeling he got anytime he found himself lying. Not about her being safe from his hound dog ways, that was true. He’d never, ever, ever, EVER, impose himself on someone who was unwilling - no, it was the sentiment that their time had passed, that he magically didn’t find her compelling, attractive, and fierce, even in her state of despair. It was a dangerous thought, the one that caused his eyes to linger a little too long on her plump bottom lip and her expressive, dark eyes.

“Okay, Hop, but I’m driving. You reek of cheap beer.” She stood and shouted into the kitchen, asking if it was okay for her to use the telephone.

“Sure thing, Joycie!” Benny hollered back over the sound of the deep fryer. Jim’s stomach growled at the smell of grease and chili.

“You can drive, but you’re gonna have to pay the toll and give me some fries,” he informed Joyce as she settled back into her seat. He was rewarded with a sad little half-smile that had the ghost of sassiness lingering in the corners. It did nothing for his resolution to veer away from nostalgic romanticism.

Much later, after he made Joyce sit in her car while he frantically tried to clear away the refuse of his slovenly ways out of sight in his trailer, she was settling comfortably in his bedroom, wearing one of his old Henleys. He desperately tried to ignore the fact that she looked outrageously fetching in it, even as the sleeves had to be rolled up to her elbows and the hem trailed below her knees.

“I’ll - uh - I’ll be in the living room if you need anything. The hallway light is on, and so is the one above the stove.” His eyes darted between the carpeted floor and the window. Anywhere that wasn’t the bed she was sitting in the middle of, her knees drawn to her chest and her auburn hair tousled and wild.

“Thanks, Jim.”

He slept fitfully that night, his body too large for the couch, and his thoughts to addled by his normal troubles, plus the one that was currently sleeping in his bed. The next day, Joyce drove him back to Benny’s so he could pick up his truck. She gave him a sad little wave, and went on her way.

“So, nothing happened,” Benny restated as the two of them shared a pre-shift coffee.

Jim frowned and shook his head. “No, I was just trying to be a friend. God knows she needs one in this town.”

Benny took a long drag of his cigarette and smirked. “Sure. You two have a history of being real friendly-like.”

“It’s not like that.” He saw something sparkle in Benny’s skeptical eyes. It irked something deep inside of Jim’s gut, that feeling that someone was seeing something he barely understood but wanted desperately to conceal. “Fuck off, Benny.”

Benny chuckled and raised his palms in a defensive gesture. “Sorry, man. I just figured with you taking home every available women within a thirty mile radius, a trip down Memory Lane would be inevitable.”

Jim snorted and looked down at the coffee cup he was cupping between his hands. “Naturally.”

“Married women are probably beyond your seduction skill set anyway.”

Jim jerked his head up to glare at his friend. “You think so?”

Benny leaned back against the booth, draping his enormous arms over the top. He was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes alight with mischief. “Yeah. You do pretty well with the single barflies, but I don’t think you’d ever be able to pull someone like Joyce away from her vows.”

“I’ve taken home women with pale lines where their rings should be. That’s nothing new.”

“Sure, man.”

The nagging twist or irritation was back. Between the two hours of sleep, the wave of old memories, and being called ‘Sparky’ again, Jim was beginning to feel less than tolerant of the conversation he was having with his so-called best friend.

 “Bet you 200 big ones I can get Joyce Byers to forget she even has a husband.”

“Throw in a full pardon of my traffic citations and we have a deal.”

“Add free food whenever I want it to your side of the wager.”

Benny let out a belly laugh that shook the table of the booth. “Deal. Let me get paper and a pen so we can get it in writing.”

Have a Good Life

A/N: Final Request for Birthday Celebration. It’s part 3 of the slowly transforming series inspired by Rockabye by Clean Bandit. Hope you like it.

Request by nonny:  Hello! I love your writing so much! I just wanted to ask if you are planning on making the give you anything (I think that is what it’s called) a series? The one where Barry cheats on reader and has his baby and is now dating Shawn…. blah blah blah 😂

Word Count: 1,500+

Originally posted by emmasfairytale

Originally posted by fcukmedaddyplease

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Here’s this just in case anyone thought I was dead. Any bets placed are now owed. You can mail my cut along a photo of your disappointment, thanks.

I think it’s been about 5 months since my last confession at the temple of Tumblr, so I guess I’ll give you a thing a month for now.

November was big move for me as far as trying to change the cynical outlook on life and general depression I seemed to not want to let go of. I suppose you can say this is when I started to do some soul searching, but I think you actually have to have one. I moved into a new place in a new area with a new vibe with a whole lot of new experiences. It’s been clear since then that this was necessary.

December was a continuation of trying to be less me; trying to get out more, forcing myself into situations that typically make me anxious, and trying to shrug off things that wasn’t worth stressing over. 

January… wasn’t all that special, I guess. Can’t think of anything of any serious note. I think I heard an epic breakup on New Year’s Eve in the alley behind my building. I couldn’t hear everything, but there was definitely crying and consoling happening. So, other people’s drama was the big event that month.

February 11th I wake to a message from my sister-in-law left around midnight the night before asking me to call her. She sounded like she had been crying when she answered the phone. She then told me that my brother died. I spent that day in a haze. It just didn’t seem real. How could it be? He was 45. He was too young. He looked healthy just a month and a half ago. Until that evening when I finally broke down. We held a memorial for him on the 18th and I spent the weekend with family to grieve and celebrate his life. Even now, typing this, there is still a part of me that doesn’t accept it as a reality. To refuse the reality that I will never see him again. I felt cheated by life. We should have had more time.

March was a fog of depression and apathy. I was barely present for my job most of the time. I would go in, do the work I was expected to do, and left. Sometimes that meant a full day, sometimes that meant an hour. Many days I left for lunch with my book and just never went back. I did just enough to not screw over my team, but I was officially done busting my ass for leadership that had no intention of show a shred of gratitude for it. So, I resigned.

April has been going fairly well so far. I have a new job, the weather is getting better, I’ve been exploring other places outside the neighborhood, seeking out new experiences, and spending more time social situations. My depression has subsided quite a bit in the past few months. There are still bouts of it from time-to-time, but I’m generally happier now-a-days.

I guess that’s enough for now. If you want to know more, I have an ask box (if Tumblr staff hasn’t broken that yet). Okay bye.

Mayor Vine / Tomodachi Life Crossover


To start off, yes, I really thought about the direction of this video and put a lot of attention to canon, headcanon, and popular fan theory. I’m a huge nerd about both Vinesauce Vinny’s Tomodachi Life and Mayor Vine series and make a hobby out of stringing together narratives. So now that that’s out of the way…

This started off of course with WindWakeMeUpInside and SophinoX creating an ACNL Dream Town for Vinny which included a few “old” Mayor Vine characters (e.g. Pudge and Lolly), and more importantly included a slew of cameos of characters removed from the tail end of the Tomodachi Life series along with ominous messages. This map was beautiful and well done… with one thing I took exception to – the “V-Dub” character at the climax doesn’t really have anything to do with Tomodachi Life or Mayor Vine. Obviously this was just meant to be a nice nod to Vinny and nothing more.

Nonetheless, I was discussing this with @teckworks​ after the fact and said that I wanted to “un-write V-Dub”, though I didn’t know exactly what that meant when I said it. It would be somewhere in the midnight-to-3AM block – when I should be sleeping for the office hours day job of course – when a sudden wave of inspiration hit that led to a fury of jotting down notes about connections I suddenly imagined.

Background (may be spoilers for some)

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