did i just get laid

Here it is...

Club Mirage 02

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Smut

Rating: M

Written by: xoxoTheQueenOfHearts

Jimin had grabbed your hand because you started to get curious and wander off. You stared at your hands before he tossed you into a room.

A room that was barely lit again but the fireplace. Weird. ‘What club has a fireplace.’ you thought to yourself. Along the walls of what you could see were whips and chains and some accessories. You were bewildered as your eyes lay upon each item that you could see. Blindfolds, ropes, and weird looking shaped objects. You almost forgot that Jimin was also in this very room.


“So….Y/N….” he starts as he makes his way around to you slowly. Watching you. Like a lion stalks his prey. “Do you understand the qualities between the masks?” he asked you. 

“Yeah, I read the paperwork Jimin. Black means dominant and white means submissive.” you say to him as if he thought you were stupid. 

He shakes his head at you. “Wow..you really must be a vanilla.” he says more to himself out loud. 

“Vanilla?” you turn to look at him now. His eyes glossy. He watches you.

He leans across the counter in the middle of the room. “You chose white for a reason Y/N and yet you claim you don’t know. Well…I guess I will be teacher Y/N.” he states as his aura starts to change.

You stared at him as you were starting to regret wearing these damn heels. The watchful gaze he had on you was making you flustered. You turned away from him. Your back facing him. “Please don’t look at me like that.” You say to him.

He made a noise but you couldn’t tell what kind it was until he pushed you against the wall you were facing. His hands held you in place as you could feel his chest pressed against your back as he leaned into your ear seductively. “And why not?” he asks. 

You gasp at his sudden contact causing you to quietly whimper against him. “It makes me feel uncomfortable.” you tell him as you try to wring your arms free from his hold. 

“Too bad sweetheart.” he states as he held you tighter. “First level of submission, giving up control.” he tells you as he brings your hands higher above your head as his free hand slowly unzips your dress. “Lesson one Y/N…you will do everything I tell you. Understood?” he asked you sternly. 

You felt your dress loosening. “J-Jimin…” you say to him above a whisper. His free hand was now pushing your dress open to get to your bare back. His hand lightly grazed your skin sending shivers down your back. “Jimin…” you whimpered. 

He ignored your start of a plea as he continued his actions. “You will do as I say Y/N.” his free hand that was on your back was now pushing it down off your shoulders. “The ones who chose the white mask, devote their entire being to the satisfaction and fulfillment of those wearing black masks.” He tells you. “Strip Y/N.” he states as he removes himself off of you. 

You turn around to look at him. His greyish blonde hair shown in the barely lit room. You stare at him. “What.” you said more as a statement. “I’m not going to take my clothes off for you.” you tell him as you tried to zip up your dress back up but he stalked up to you and you stumbled back.

“Yes you will. Strip or be punished. Trust me…you will not want to be punished.” he threatens. His eyes narrowing. “The ones who chose the white mask knows the ones who wear black, will do what he or she wants despite of what you want.” he backs you up further against the wall with your bare back pressed against the cold surface. 

You swallow. Nervous. Here before you, is your massive secret crush and fate has you in this place, in this moment. You bite your bottom lip. ‘Dammit! Why did I choose white!’ you scream internally to yourself. 

“Strip now.” he growled lowly as if he was losing his patience. “If you don’t give this a chance, I guess you’ll be a virgin forever.” he taunted knowing he hit a nerve.

“Fine..but my safe word is forbidden.” you tell him as he nods licking his lips. “And we stop if I don’t like it?” you ask him blushing not believing that you were about to do this. 

“Yes. We stop.” he states. “Now strip.”

You inhaled and exhaled as you bring your sweaty palms to your straps on your shoulder and in one swift movement the dress slides down your body exposing your bare chest leaving you in your panties only. You couldn’t look at him. It was too embarrassing.

He rids himself of his top as you looked at him in your peripheral vision so you would feel more relaxed but you still couldn’t look at him directly. “The human body can voluntarily withstand only a certain level of sensual pleasure. Since your a virgin, I’ll start easy.” he tells you as he walked up to you. He brings his hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him. You meet his gaze. And instantly regret it. Your breath hitches in your throat as one of his free hand pulls you into a deep sensual kiss. 

Distracting you. That’s what he was doing. You were too focused in the slow sensual kiss to focus on his other hand. He tugged on your lower lip with his teeth as he bit down lightly but hard enough for you to open your mouth in a whimper. He took his advances as he stuck his tongue in your mouth exploring and dominating your mouth. His other hand was playing with your breasts causing your nipples to harden from his touch. You gripped his forearms for support. And then he pulled away. You whimpered at the loss of contact. 

“It’s midnight Y/N…Come back tomorrow if you want to continue this lesson. Come back tomorrow if you want to know why you chose the white mask. I’ll keep this secret.” Jimin said to you as he got himself dressed.

You slipped your dress back on and helped zip you back up. He walks you all the way down to the entrance of which you came with F/N. He pulls you into one last kiss for the time this night. “Be here tomorrow at Ten P.M.And I will show you your darkest desires.” he whispered on your lips and pecked them before walking off. 

You stood at the entrance watching him walk off when your friend F/N came out with someone on her hip. 

“You must have enjoyed yourself if you decided to stay Y/N..” your friend teases as the guy around her kisses her goodbye and then she focuses on you. “So do you want to come back with me tomorrow?” She asks you. 

You thought about it for a few moments. You didn’t want to die a virgin but you also didn’t want to be used either because this was Jimin the frat boy. But this was also the Jimin you had your massive secret crush on. “Sure, how about ten pm. “ You suggested  and she nods in agreement as you both walked home.


Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1950ish

Warnings: jealousy, sexism, self-doubt, sexual innuendos, light cursing

Summary: On a mission, you get too jealous when Steve starts flirting with another lady. When Natasha confronts you about it, you don’t realize that Steve is right behind you.

A/N: you know how I said this would be out Monday? Ha HAHA ah

Originally posted by yalica

The ballroom was extravagant to say the least. The room had a high ceiling, chandeliers made out of crystals that even one was probably worth more than your entire apartment complex. And then there was the floor length dress you were wearing. The dress’s open back and plunging neckline added with it’s shade of black that contradicted with the bright colors other women were in were sure to draw your target’s eyes. Which is exactly what you needed.

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anonymous asked:

Do you have any fics dealing with feeling worthless as a bottom? I'm very femme-y and I love being taken care of in bed. Being aggressive and dominant don't come naturally to me. I've accepted that I'm a giant softie who likes a more dominant partner. The problem is THEY do the work. I can initiate a kiss and fondle and go down on a girl and all that stuff, but I'm truly in my element under a nice pair of breasts, feeling safe and taken care of. It feels selfish/greedy, though. :/

Maggie absolutely loves topping her.

She loves how pliant her body is underneath hers, loves the sounds she makes, loves the way her eyes flutter closed, the way she scratches at her back, the way her own back arches helplessly. The way she screams her throat raw on Maggie’s name.

She loves the way that badass, take-no-prisoners, ruthless, perfectionist, take-care-of-everybody-and-what-do-you-mean-I-have-needs-too DEO agent Alex Danvers surrenders to being worshiped by her. Submits to her love. Writhes and begs and whines and lets everything go for the prayers she plays out on Alex’s body.

The way Alex trusts her.

Fully, completely.

The way Alex gives her everything by taking everything: the way Alex gives her everything by letting her love her, by letting her adore her, by letting her be trusted.

But the first time Alex’s eyes flash and she asks with her eyes, with her gentle touch, with her body, if she can put Maggie’s wrists above her head and return every bit of worshiping she’s gotten in their first times, Maggie doesn’t hesitate.

Because Alex’s desire to please her, to touch her, to do everything with her, to her, is palpable. Is radiating.

And god, does Maggie want her.

Want to be taken by her.

And god, does Alex take her.

She makes sure Maggie’s head is resting perfectly on her favorite pillow and she kisses every centimeter of her face and she takes her time stripping her naked, and every time Maggie tells her that she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to, that they can stop whenever Alex wants, that she doesn’t owe Maggie anything, Alex pffts and Alex rasps, “do you want me to stop?”, and Maggie splutters – no woman has ever made her splutter before, and she wonders if she picked it up from Alex or if Alex was just always fated to have that effect on her – and she shakes her head and Alex grins and Alex continues.

Alex is a quick study – of course Alex is a quick study – and she takes her time bringing Maggie to orgasm after orgasm after orgasm, her mouth exploring her breasts, figuring out exactly what rhythm of her tongue over her hardened nipples makes her whine loudest, pant hardest.

Takes her time figuring out which spots on her stomach make Maggie giggle and which spots – when Alex’s teeth gently, and then at Maggie’s desperate urging, not so gently, graze her skin – make Maggie unravel.

Takes her time figuring out that Maggie has no problem keeping one leg up on Alex’s shoulder so Alex can fuck her deeper, can fuck her harder, can reach deeper inside her, touch places in her body, her soul, that no one has ever bothered to explore.

Takes her time figuring out that if she puts her thigh between Maggie’s legs and arches to take one of Maggie’s nipples into her mouth at the same time, it won’t take her long to cum. Hard. Again.

And because Alex is a quick study, Alex imitates Maggie’s constant checking in, her constant questioning – “are you sure, babe?” “do you want this, Maggie?” “all good?” “like that?” “do you need a break?” “do you like when I lick your clit like that, or like that? Both? Mmm, excellent” – and Maggie is so swept away, so caught up, in being the center of this gorgeous woman’s attention, the sole focus of this brilliant soldier-scientist’s incredible brain and body power, that her answer, truly, madly, deeply, is always yes Alex, please, god, don’t stop, Alex, Alex, Alex.

But when Alex wipes her mouth on her bare shoulder and kisses the insides of Maggie’s thighs, a satisfied, deeply affectionate but also deeply smug grin on her face after making Maggie cum for the upteenth time, Maggie panics.

Panics because it’s almost sunrise, and she’s done nothing for Alex all night.

She can’t count the number of times she’s cum, and the only thing she’s done has been begging Alex for more.

The only thing she’s done has been selfish preening and worthless whining and god, how can she be this self-involved, this lazy, this unwilling to work for such a gorgeous, perfect, dedicated woman?

How can she have let Alex dedicate herself solely to her pleasure and offer her absolutely nothing in return?

So she panics.

She panics, and shame sweeps through her stomach because maybe this, this, this is why she’s never truly bottomed for anyone before, because she isn’t lazy, she isn’t selfish, she isn’t worthless, she isn’t greedy, she isn’t… except she is. Because the last few hours – god, the last few incredible hours – prove that she is exactly those things.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Did I hurt you, are you okay?”

And suddenly Alex is out from between her legs and crawling up to where she could cradle her body, hovering because she’s unsure of whether to touch her, but concern is radiating from her eyes – genuine, full-throated concern – and that concern just makes the shame sweep harder through Maggie’s stomach.

“You didn’t hurt me, I’m fine. It’s nothing, it’s whatever, it – “

“No, Maggie. It’s not whatever. Your whole body tensed up, you… it matters, Maggie. You matter.”

Alex’s face is a map of confusion, a map of worry, a map of god please tell me I didn’t hurt you.

Maggie makes a futile grab for the covers – being naked right now is just a reminder of how selfish she is  – and Alex immediately lunges down the bed to get them and tuck Maggie in.

“No, no, you don’t have to… see, that’s just it, Danvers, I…”

“I’m sorry – “ Alex drops the sheets and holds up her hands immediately in soft surrender.

Surrender. Surrender.

“No, Alex, I’m sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just…”

She looks away and she clenches her jaw and she can feel Alex staring down at her, can feel Alex thinking, can feel Alex calculating.

“We’ve never had sex quite like that before,” Alex observes softly, so softly, after a few long, silent moments.

Maggie still won’t look at her, and she desperately tries to control the burning in her eyes, the churning in her stomach, but she tries to remember the trust that led her to let Alex top her to begin with, so she nods.

“I’ve never really… taken the lead.”

Maggie nods again.

“Was it bad? Was I bad? Because I can get better, I – “

“No! No, Alex, you were… you were amazing, it…”

“You can tell me if I – “

“No. You were perfect, Alex, I promise, it’s not that – “

“Then what is it, Maggie? You can tell me.”

A long silence. Alex rests her body down on one elbow and holds out a hovering hand, a question in her eyes. Maggie nods again and Alex strokes her hair softly.

And that’s exactly what Maggie needs, which is exactly why Maggie breaks.

“Why would you… what did you get out of all that, Alex? I just… I just laid there, I didn’t do anything for you, I… how selfish could I be, it… I didn’t do anything for you, Alex, all night, I just – “

“Maggie, wait. That’s not… are you kidding? Do you seriously want to feel how wet I am right now?”

Maggie pffts at Alex’s earnesty with wet eyes. “Nerd.”

Alex smiles with relief and kisses her forehead.

“Maggie, I… I’m so glad you let me… top you? Is that the way to say it? I…” Alex pauses and searches Maggie’s face for the right words. “Maggie, you’re always in control of everything. You’re always responsible, you’re always making decisions. Life and death decisions! And you… you always take care of me, you always just… you make me so happy, Maggie, and I… you deserve it. You deserve to be taken care of. You deserve to lay back and let me worship you, because you… you’re amazing, Maggie, and you deserve to let go, you deserve to be cared for. And – and… it’s giving me a gift, Maggie. You trusting me like that. You letting me lo… letting me care for you like that, that’s a gift, Maggie. It’s perfect. You’re perfect, and you deserve to be shown that. And, if you’re worried that you weren’t doing anything for me… you’ve gotta be kidding. That was the… sexiest, hottest… thing I’ve ever done… the… you… I came, you know. A bunch of times, not that that was the point, but I’m just saying, feeling you like that, touching you like that? Listening to you like that? I came. Because it was so incredible, I just… I didn’t make a big deal out of it, because I wanted to focus on you. You deserve to be focused on, Maggie. I promise I love…d it. I promise.”

Another long pause, another thick silence.

“So you’re saying you liked it. Cause that’s… that’s what I’m getting.”

“Oh my god, you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance, Danvers. Not a chance.”

Imagine face masks and pillow talk with Chris.

A/N: Look who had some time before bed to write? :D This is inspired by a conversation I had with the lovely @chrisevanshh about face masks. I just couldn’t resist, Ava. 😂

You rested your head on Chris’ chest, which rose and fell steadily as he kissed your hair with a satisfied smile dancing on his lips. It had been another predictable night in, in the beautiful Los Angeles home that you shared with your boyfriend. Let’s just say the two of you were making full use of the time you had left together before you both left for your respective trips; his being a work trip, and yours being a holiday that minimized your time without him.

You’d learned over the years that a holiday was always good to take your mind off missing your boyfriend, so every time he left the state- you did too, choosing a new city or country to explore for as long as your visitor’s visa would allow before returning home to deal with the lonely repercussions of long distance. The first few weeks were always the hardest, even with Dodger’s company- you hated being in that house without Chris, so Japan it was.

It was pretty obvious that neither of you were ready to leave the other, in fact- there hadn’t been a single discussion about the upcoming trips you were both about to take because that wasn’t a conversation that could be had without tears. What made things worst this time was that Chris was going to be gone for nine months instead of six, he wasn’t even gone yet and you could already feel how long and hard those nine months were going to be. You could visit him, yes, but you both knew what it was like after the visits- that couldn’t last more than a week tops- ended.

“Your hands are so short and stubby,” you giggled softly as you entwined your fingers with Chris’; you heard him chuckle softly because this wasn’t the first time he’d heard you tell him that. “They’re like mine,” you looked up and him and grinned, “we’re hand twins.”

“Your hands are nothing like mine.” He laughed, pulling your entwined hands up to take a closer look though he already had every inch of your body memorized like his favorite song. “They’re so long and straight and soft, like a baby’s butt.” He teased and you giggled, pulling your hand out of his to make little chomping movements.

“Yeah, they’re also like little chubby baby hands.” You used your hand to chomp his nose and he laughed, wiggling his nose. “Chomp chomp chomp,” you said then giggled to yourself. “Do you remember Deadpool’s baby hand in the movie? It was so weird, chomp chomp.”

“You’re so weird,” he chuckled, taking your hand in his and locking his fingers with yours. “And your hands are perfect, like everything else about you.” He kissed your fingers and you smiled, which falter when you heard him heave a sigh. “I’m going to miss you,” he mumbled into your hair.

You said nothing in response, you just played with his fingers because you didn’t want to start that conversation just yet. You had until Friday at the airport to say your goodbyes, until then- it was going to be sunshine, rainbows, and weird conversations that made you giggle.

“What time’s your flight?” He asked as you simultaneously tried to change the subject with, “do you want to do a face mask with me?” He narrowed his eyes at you before darting his gaze to the clock hanging on the bedroom wall, “are you- it’s like three in the morning, Y/N. Why on earth would we do a face mask now?”

“Why on earth wouldn’t we?” You pulled your hand away and sat up, grinning. “C'mon, it’ll be fun.” You heard him sigh as you hopped off the bed and disappeared into the ensuite with the dim light of your bedside lamp guiding you.

Of course, Chris knew what you were doing; you always did things like these when he brought up anything involving your respective departures. But seeing as he didn’t want to upset you, he went along with whatever form of distraction your mind came up with. The other night when he’d tried to talk about scheduling FaceTime sessions, you’d changed the subject with ‘Cookies & Cream’ ice-cream and 'Aladdin’; two things you knew he couldn’t say no to, and so- that conversation was successfully postponed.

“Here you go, it’s cucumber and melon.” You tossed the packet at him and sat back down on the bed, tearing the foil packaging open. “It’s not one of those painful peel off ones,” you chuckled when you saw him studying the back of the packet. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Good,” he chuckled, ripping his packet open. “Because bearded me would not appreciate that at all, nor would he find it relaxing. Okay, um-” he pulled the white cloth mask out of the packet with narrowed eyes. “How am I meant to do this again? Does this-” he tried to put it on upside down, making you laugh. “That doesn’t seem right, there’s two holes for the mouth?”

“Don’t pretend like this is the first time you’ve used one of these, Mr. fancy-actor-man,” you teased him and he chuckled. “If you want me to do it for you, just ask,” you put your packet aside and took his mask out of his hands. “Lie down and close your eyes.” You instructed and he did as you asked. “Just gotta line it up with your eyes, nose, and mouth before I smooth it out. There,” you gently patted it down then smiled at him when he opened his eyes.

“Do I look beautiful yet?” He quizzed, striking a finger gun gesture under his chin.

“You know you’re always beautiful, baby,” you answered and chuckled when he did. “Now I just gotta get mine on,” you laid down as he sat up, taking your packet from your hands. “I thought you didn’t know how to do it?” You teased him as he helped you with yours.

“Mr. fancy-actor-man just wanted his pretty girlfriend’s perfect hands on his face,” he managed a wink despite his facial movements being restricted by the face mask; you laughed. “Stop laughing,” he chuckled. “I can’t put this on you if you don’t stop.” You pressed your lips together and closed your eyes, trying not to smile at how gentle he was being. “Done and done.” He booped your nose as you opened your eyes, making you giggle.

“Do I look beautiful yet?” You quizzed, striking the same finger gun gesture under your chin.

“Maybe in half an hour,” he answered and laughed when you scoffed, slapping his arm. “I’m kidding,” he chuckled. “You know you’re always beautiful, baby.” He winked again, causing his face mask to slip slightly. “It’s like my face is melting off,” he laughed and readjusted it before laying back down; you both closed your eyes. “I don’t understand how people find this relaxing, it’s like a wet cloth over my face.”

“It smells really nice though,” you said and heard him hum in agreement.

“Hey, baby?” You felt him slip his hand into yours and you entwined your fingers with his, humming to prompt a continuation from him. “We’re going to have to talk about it eventually, you know that right?” You heaved an overly dramatic sigh and he chuckled softly. “We don’t have to talk about it now, but eventually. You’re leaving on Friday-”

“We can talk about it then,” you cut him off. “We’re relaxing now, Chris.”

“What are you so afraid of, Y/N?” He asked, propping himself up on an elbow as he looked over at you; you opened your eyes when you felt his gaze burn into your skin. “It’s not like this is our first time experiencing long distance, we’ve been dating for years- we survived the previous Marvel movies fine, so why are you being so weird about this one?”

“Because you’re going away for nine months this time, Chris,” you said then peeled off your mask and sat up. He sighed and did the same; he grabbed a tissue for you and himself to wipe of the remaining residue. “Nine months is a long time, I’m just worried that we won’t make it this time.”

“Are you serious?” His eyes narrowed but there was a smile on his lips; you nodded and he chuckled. “Y/N-” he took your hands in his. “I love you, you know that right?” You sighed and nodded. “No, I don’t think you do if you’re legitimately concern about this.”

“I do, I just-”

“I see the rest of my life with you,” he cut you off, smiling. “You are everything to me, there is no future without you. Do you understand that? When I close my eyes, you are all I see.” You felt your lips quirk into a smile. “And I’ll bet you anything that nine months isn’t going to change that- in fact, I’ll bet you my entire net worth.”

“What if it does?”

“I fly over, write you a check, and win you back while I’m at it.” He smiled when you chuckled, realizing how ridiculous you were being for worrying about any of it. “I promise you, I’m not going anywhere.” He cupped your face in his hands and pecked your lips. “And I’m not letting you go anywhere either.”

“I love you, Chris,” you smiled.

“I love you too, worry wart,” he smiled.

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How exciting, using my main tag list for the first time! 😄

3 A.M Cuddles

Justin Bieber Imagine

Requested: 007 with Justin Bieber 😘💛
007: “I’m cold. Come closer.”

It was probably 3 in the morning when I woke up to an arm pulling me in bed. I jumped up a little because it’s 3 in the morning and I have no idea what’s going on. I looked over and let out a sigh of relief seeing Justin there. He seemed to be half asleep and just laughing quietly, “Did you really get scared?” I groaned and laid back down in bed, “Well I think you’d get scared at 3 in the morning if you suddenly felt yourself getting pulled.”

I let out a sigh as Justin pulled me close to him again, “I’m cold. Come closer.” I smiled as I curled up against his body, hiding my face against his chest, “Better now?” He nodded slightly, “I love you Y/N.” I smiled slightly as I attempted to fall asleep again, “I love you too Justin. But now I’m awake and can’t sleep.” Justin let out a chuckle and gently rubbed my back as he let out a sigh, “How did you day go?” I bit my lip and looked up at him.

“It was good. The dancers are all set, the stage looks amazing and everything seems to be going smoothly so far.” I nodded against his chest. “I’m going to miss you when you go on tour.” He moved his head slightly to look at me, “You know you could just come with me right?” I let out a sigh and just shook my head knowing it would be hard to leave my job to go on tour with Justin but at the same time I didn’t want to be away from him for too long.

“Well you know I would love to come but you also know that I have a job that isn’t easy to just leave and come back to.” He chuckled slightly and pulled me close once again, “Just quit and come work with my. Scooter would get you a job working on the tour and we’d be together 24/7.” I laughed and looked up at him, “How about we have this conversation when it isn’t 3 in the morning and we’re both delusional?” “Agreed.” He wrapped his arms around my waist tighter, leaving a kiss on the top of my head before we slowly fell asleep.

millenialcryptid  asked:

I once had a dream about getting a lapdance from young Jensen Ackles. He had abs.


So when yall-mothafuckas-need-misha and I went to Vegas for Vegas Con we went to a strip club. And we were having the time of our lives watching our friend get incredibly drunk and there were lots of beautiful men and lots of alcohol. So I’m sitting there, watching this one dude do this thing on a pole when this guy, out of nowhere, comes and grabs my hand and literally just drags me over to this chair to give me a lapdance. 

I was totally unprepared for this, ok? Vegas is completely different from the tiny town in NM where I grew up. Well, yall-mothafuckas-need-misha says that this was all she could see while it was happening:

And when I came back, my hair was all fucked up and I was stumbling because, Jesus. 

And Hannah asks me, “Did you just get laid?" 

And all I could say was, "I-uh, I think so?" 

I became a student of my own depressed experience, trying to unthread its causes. What was the root of all this despair? Was it psychological? (Was it Mom and Dad’s fault?( Was it just temporal, a ‘bad time’ in my life? (When the divorce ends will the depression end with it?) Was it genetic? (Melancholy, called by many names, has run through my family for generations, along with its sad bride, Alcoholism.) Was it cultural? (Is this just the fallout of postfeminist American career girl trying to find balance in an increasingly stressful alienting urban world?) Was it astrological? (Am I so sad because I’m a thin-skinned Cancer whose major signs are all ruled by unstable Gemini?) Was it artistic? (Don’t creative people always suffer from depression because we’re so supersensitive and special?) Was it evolutionary? (Do I carry in me the residual panic that comes after millennia of my species’ attempting to survive a brutal world?) Was it karmic? (Are all these spasms of grief just the consequences of bad behavior in previous lifetimes, the last obstacles before liberation?) Was it hormonal? Dietary? Philosophical? Seasonal? Environmental? Was I tapping into a universal yearning for God? Did I have a chemical imbalance? Or did I just need to get laid?
—  Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love