hey just stoppin by to say tHANKS YOURE GREAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MAGNIFICENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A DELIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
the past six times I have scrolled by this ask in my inbox my automatic response has been NO ANON YOU’RE GREAT AND A DELIGHT!!!!! TAKE THAT!!!!!! which is probably not actually the response I should have but is still true
just a collection of all the reblogs and posts i have and enjoy on study tips, life hacks, and everything on my studyblr. this is always being updated, so tune in for more! (most are not mine, i mainly just want to save these for later use, so credit goes to the studyblr! if you’re a creator and you’re reading this, i really enjoy your content, and obviously that’s why i like quick access to your great posts!)
apparently its not safe to talk about yourself. people always seem to make assumptions. if you say interesting things about yourself and your life, people think you’re bragging or that you must think you’re so special. But if you say something negative about your life, people assume you’re being ungrateful. I dream of a world where people can freely express themselves. It’s ok to vent and complain, it’s healthy to let that out. It’s ok to give yourself credit for what makes you special! I love your uniqueness, whoever you are, whoever is reading this!
If you’re reading this, know that you can safely talk about yourself to me. I try to not make assumptions or read too much into what you say. I have many kind followers who support me, but once in a while there’s someone who makes projections of who I am, distorts what I say, and tries to steal my pride. I love seeing proud people talk about themselves. Own who you are and so will I!
my good friend @lena221b recently reminded me of a series of drabbles i wrote in response to anon asks aaaaages ago. i couldn’t find the original posts (we’re talking years ago, that’s too much scrolling for one mortal girl) so i decided to lump them all together here. the following are a few short snippets of derek and stiles’ life together. in my head they’re all part of the same universe. enjoy!
“I dream about riding you sometimes.”
Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.
Stiles doesn’t seem to notice, just tries to roll himself back over. ‘Tries’ being the operative word, because he somehow manages to get himself tangled in his hoodie and then he’s just struggling on the ground with his head trapped in the sleeve.
Ordinarily Derek would help him, would feel guilty about dropping him in the first place, but right now he’s too preoccupied with choking on his own spit.
Stiles fights his way out of his clothing and gazes up at Derek.
“You’re so big though, I’m not even sure I could get my legs around you.”
Can werewolves go into cardiac arrest? Because it’s happening, Derek’s pretty sure it’s happening.
“And you’re so strong, too. I bet I could just climb up on there and you could keep going for hours.”
Stiles smacks his lips and wiggles on the forest floor and seems completely unconcerned with the way Derek’s world is rearranging itself around him.
“Such a scary wolfy,” Stiles mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. “You’re also really fluffy though.” He reaches out and starts patting Derek’s boot. “Preeeetty.”
Derek steps carefully away from Stiles and smashes his head into the nearest tree. A cut appears on his eyebrow and then heals before he’s even wiped the blood away. Because Stiles is talking about riding Derek in his wolf form. Like he’s some kind of glorified pony. And Derek is so pathetically gone on this boy that he’d let him. He’d growl and snarl and snap his jaws and then he’d get down on his haunches and carry Stiles wherever he wanted to go.
He’s absolutely, definitively not disappointed that Stiles isn’t talking about riding him in his human form because that would be gross and creepy and taking advantage of Stiles’ intoxicated state.
Right, Stiles, who is drunk, and burrowing into a pile of leaves.
Derek sighs at his life and stomps over to pick Stiles up again.
“Whoa, spinny!” Stiles shrieks and clutches at Derek’s collar. When he’s got his feet back under himself he looks around and frowns. “Nooo, no standing, it’s nap time.”
“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” Derek grumbles.
“Which is why it’s nap time,” Stiles insists, like it wasn’t his idea to get smashed in the woods in the middle of the night like an utter moron.
“You can sleep back at the loft, okay?” Derek bargains, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and hauling him forward.
“Mmm your bed,” Stiles groans, stuffing his face into Derek’s neck. “Been trying to get into your bed for months.”
Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.
The first time Stiles walks into Derek’s loft and finds him cooking he’s so stunned that he forgets to actually stop walking and crashes into a table.
Derek raises an eyebrow without looking away from where he’s blanching (blanching) vegetables. Once Stiles has stopped rolling around on the floor he uses two bar stools to pull himself right-side-up and brushes himself off as nonchalantly as he can manage.
“You cook?” he asks, trying his hardest not to appear incredulous, but Derek is wearing oven mitts so it’s not really going too well.
Derek levels him with his patented ‘why am I dating an idiot?’ look. It’s very, very flat.
“Yes, Stiles, I can cook,” he says, and pokes at something sizzling in a pan. Stiles boggles. Derek raises his other eyebrow this time. “Why is this shocking? You know I eat.”
“Well, yeah, objectively,” Stiles agrees. “I just always assumed you lived off a diet of Hot Pockets, squirrels, and the tears of your enemies.”
So very flat.
“Well, I’d hate to disappoint. I’ll throw this in the bin and then head out to rustle up some woodland creatures.” He goes to turn off the burner and Stiles dives across the kitchen.
"No, no, no. This is good. This is — What is this?” Stiles takes a whiff and just about hits the floor again. “Oh god, feed me.”
(Stiles can cook too, but his speciality is sweet things. Derek couldn’t bake a cake to save his life. They’re a match made in culinary heaven.)
"No,” Derek says sternly, giving Stiles everything his eyebrows have to offer. “Absolutely not.”
“What! Derek, come on, you know you want one,” Stiles wheedles, waggling his own eyebrows at Derek. He looks ridiculous and definitely not appealing.
“I have my hands full enough just trying to look after you.”
"Hey!” Stiles squawks. “I resent that! I am a fully functioning adult, thank you very much,” he says, puffing himself up.
All Derek has to do is glance pointedly at the thing curled up in Stiles’ arms and he puffs right back down again.
“I’ll keep her at my place! You won’t even know she’s there. I’ll take such good care of her, I swear.” Derek remains unmoved. Stiles pulls out the big guns. “Babe, please.” Damn him. “Just look at that face. You can’t say no to that face.”
The thing is, Derek is dangerously close to letting slip just how true that is. He’ll never be able to say no to Stiles. He might put up a token protest, but Derek knows that the second Stiles asks him for anything he’s already screwed.
And right now Stiles isn’t pulling his punches either. He’s got the big eyes and the pouty lips and his neck stretched out at the most perfect angle and Derek’s ready to fall to his knees and offer Stiles everything.
Except, what, no, not this time, Stiles is starting to make him legitimately insane.
“Who are you?! Hagrid?!” he exclaims. “Put the dragon down, Stiles.”
Stiles pulls this heartbroken face, and Derek is almost swayed except dragon.
“But she’s just a baby!” Stiles wails. “She doesn’t know how to look after herself.”
“She just singed off Scott’s eyebrows,” Derek says flatly. “I think she’ll be fine.”
(On the walk back to the Jeep Derek offers to buy Stiles a cat in place of the dragon, because they’re basically the same thing anyway and Derek is a sucker.)
“I told you not to do it,” Derek sing-songs, condescendingly, not even looking up from his book. The ass.
“No you didn’t,” Stiles moans from his place on the couch. He removes his arm from his face to glare weakly at said ass. “You said, ‘As if you’d ever get your nipple pierced’. Which was basically a direct challenge. Which means of course I did it.”
Derek doesn’t even stop reading to roll his eyes at Stiles. He just kind of widens them slightly with a long-suffering look on his face. The ass.
"This is entirely your fault,” Stiles whines. Derek doesn’t respond at all.
Stiles wriggles around making pitiful noises until Derek snaps his book shut with a growl. “What.”
“It hurts,” Stiles sniffles.
“Well that’s because you poked a piece of metal through your flesh,” Derek bitches, but he gets up and walks over to the couch anyway. He lifts Stiles’ legs and settles himself down, Stiles’ thighs splayed across his lap. Then he curls his hand around Stiles’ knee and begins leeching his pain.
“Better?” he asks, and Stiles hums in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut.
He’s just about to drop off the edge of consciousness when something hot and wet envelops his nipple. Stiles jerks violently and finds Derek staring up at him from his chest, eyes dancing. He grins wickedly and flicks his tongue against the bar and Stiles melts.
(Derek ends up loving Stiles’ nipple piercing. Stiles lords it over him for months until Derek comes home with a piercing in a much more sensitive place. Stiles’ mouth is busy doing other things after that.)
Derek went into this relationship with Stiles with his eyes wide open. Which basically meant he was expecting a lot of sex, because every second word out of the kid’s mouth was innuendo and he smelled constantly turned-on. And Stiles did not disappoint. There was a lot of sex. A lot.
Derek was not expecting the cuddling. But five months in Derek’s beginning to wonder if Stiles is actually a were-octopus and just hasn’t told him yet.
No matter how aggressively he spoons Stiles when they’re drifting off to sleep, he’ll always wake up buried under warm, clingy boy.
When Derek joined the Stilinski’s in visiting the Sheriff’s mother over Thanksgiving, he passed out alone on the couch and woke to Stiles wrapped around him, his face shoved under a throw pillow.
Stiles holds him in the shower, tucks Derek under his arm at pack movie nights, plasters himself to Derek’s back in the kitchen when he’s soft and tired-eyed.
The first time Stiles grabbed Derek’s hip and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder while they were both brushing their teeth Derek spent two whole minutes staring at him in the mirror. The first time. Now it feels weird whenever he’s not lopsided during his entire morning routine.
For years after Kate, Derek was uncomfortable being touched. Other people’s hands made his blood pump harder and his breathing turn shallower and his muscles coil up. Now, the safest he ever feels is when Stiles’ arms are snug around his heart.
this is at least the second time that I was accused of thinking I’m better than others just because I believe this is my last human life on earth. I will not apologize for my inner knowing. it doesn’t mean i’m above anyone if i’m not meant to be a human after this, it means my soul is going elsewhere. people just love to put words in my mouth. since I have Mercury conjunct Neptune and Uranus, people often distort the things I say.
For those not following the wedding canons, or the Akeshu canons at all:
(An alternate response to the anon asking about the PTs reaction to Ryuji dating Yusuke, just to be fair because not everyone here ships Akira and Goro.)
The initial responses are skeptical, much to Ryuji’s growing dismay, Futaba’s being the most skeptical. “Never thought the two of you would hit it off,” she comments, not at all thrilled or supportive but solemn, as though they’re at a businesa meeting. “Congratulations, morons. Yusuke, try not to let Ryuji drive you crazy, okay?”
Mona can’t compute how the two of them will work with each other, as though they’re a complex math equation. Makoto turns to Yusuke and asks him: “Are you sure about this?” The only warm support comes from Akira.
Aside from Akira, none of them make Ryuji feel any better about the relationship. They all worsen the insecurities that are already deep.
The other day I had an anonymous message asking me how I write my reports. I’ve also had anonymous messages asking how much astrologers earn. Both kinds of questions seem inconsiderate, especially to ask on anon where I can’t answer you privately.
If you really want to know something about me, or have me tell you about the industry of astrologers, have the guts to introduce yourself. Otherwise it just sounds like you’re trying to find fault in what I/we do and I’ll just delete the message.
When I do write reports, I usually put hours of effort and thought into it. I don’t just throw the readings together, I am passionate about completing them thoughtfully. The last few months I haven’t been super active giving readings for personal reasons, but when I am recovered I plan on pursuing it with fuller throttle.
I get to ignore any question in my inbox that I believe might have a hidden motive ;).
I didn’t “try so hard to make Loghain look bad” If I was trying to make him look bad I would have mentioned the fact that he KNEW the Grey Warden’s weren’t responsible for Cailan’s death and still put out a bounty on Wardens and outright hired an assassin (Zevran) as well as the sneaky ploy in Denerim to get any straggling Warden’s to go to the Pearl to flat out murder Wardens. I would have mentioned the locking up Anora so that he could rule without her getting in the way and I would have mentioned the slaves he outright SOLD to Tevinter. He wasn’t “complicit” as Anon said in this act, you take the evidence that he approved the deal to the Landsmeet. He did so, so that he could 1. Get rid of the elves and 2. raise money.
There are numerous things I could have pointed out if I were simply attempting to make Loghain “appear evil”
“It isn’t medieval times it’s Dark Ages at best” This is not a valid argument to dispute the fact that a vow of loyalty and support was made to his King and he blatantly defied his own vow. “So, 100,000 men should die because of a niave King”…well, yes, it doesn’t make it right but that’s how it works. These men who joined these armies did so by their own accord, we know this even within the game when you speak to the man who’s being charged with desertion, he joined thinking there would be no war. That’s how soldiers work. Also, Loghain was there WITH his men, again, he could have left BEFORE the battle making Cailan need to re plan his strategy. Also, it was Loghain’s plan to light the tower to signal his men, if he changed his mind DURING the battle then he is responsible for the deaths of those who died after he retreated at best and the death of Cailan even if indirectly. If he had chosen to retreat before the battle and not given Cailan the strats of lighting the tower then Cailan would have been 100% at fault, neither of those were the case.
I would not dismiss any valid rebuttles to my post, but these responses by one anon bear no facts but obviously misinformed opinions. I purposely stuck to the facts of Ostagar and ONLY Ostagar, I wasn’t making Loghain an evil villain, but we like it or not, the whole game talks about duty, honor and sacrifice and Loghain, just during the Battle of Ostagar shows very little of either of those 3 things.